Ensenada, in a conference room at city hall.
Four people sat there, those who knew each other exchanging glances, occasionally looking at Victor sitting in the main seat.
On their way here, they'd already figured out what had happened.
The drug dealer corpses they saw on the road were all his doing.
Who in all of Mexico didn't know Victor now?
He was the famous "anti-drug warrior," though reportedly had a bad temper.
Victor checked his watch, smiled and stood up, "Everyone here is..."
"Wait, wait~"
Before he finished speaking, he saw a man in police uniform wearing gold-rimmed glasses run through the doorway, waving at everyone with a smile, then plopping down in a chair.
"And this is?"
"I'm Castel Police Chief, Herrera García."
Victor raised an eyebrow, smiled and nodded, checking his watch, "You're two minutes late. We agreed on 9:30, right? This..."
"No need to be so strict, Mr. Victor. I originally had business, but when you called me, I pushed everything aside." Herrera García waved his hand.
"Oh? So you're giving me face then."
"No problem, no problem. We help each other." Herrera García reached out and patted Victor's shoulder.
Casare beside him didn't dare turn to look at his boss, only glancing sideways. It's over! The boss smiled!
Victor looked at the hand on his shoulder and slapped it away. His force wasn't light - the other was directly stunned and fell to the ground. Victor pushed aside the obstructing table and kicked him!
Right in the face.
"Face? What are you to demand I give you face! Fuck!"
Victor grabbed a chair and smashed it on the other, beating him into a shrimp curl while nearby police chiefs scrambled aside in fright.
Herrera García's glasses were broken.
He passed out directly.
Victor waved his hand, exhaled, turned to look at the others, "Remember, I don't need to give anyone face. If you're dissatisfied, go call people. We'll fight and see who's better. If you don't have the ability, keep a low profile."
He pulled out his wallet, counted out a stack of dollars, threw it on the other, and said to Casare, "Take him to see a doctor."
Fatty quickly called two officers to drag Herrera García out.
Victor sat in his chair, lit himself a cigarette, looked at the chiefs all standing and trembling, and patted the table, "Why are you all standing? Am I that scary?"
Those people quickly pulled over chairs and sat down, each sitting more properly than the last.
All cheap hides!
"Don't worry, I, Victor, always act reasonably. What kind of trash is Herrera García? Don't think I don't know - he's with Tijuana drug trafficking group."
"Does such a person deserve to sit with me?"
The chiefs below gave awkward smiles.
"Right, right, Mr. Victor is correct."
"Exactly, we all oppose sitting with such people who collude with drug dealers!"
Each distanced themselves cleaner than the others.
But each was also incredibly nervous - whose ass was clean among them?
Victor's lips curved with mockery.
He tapped the table twice with his finger, and those below immediately understood to shut their mouths.
"I didn't call you here to manage any bullshit. Just one thing."
"Tijuana drug trafficking group must be eradicated from Baja California State!"
Everyone's faces changed dramatically. Like sitting on pins and needles, they looked at each other, all wanting to flee.
Victor saw all this, chuckling lightly, "What are you afraid of? I had my people kill Benjamín's subordinate Ramón and his brothers. Aren't the other small drug dealers simple?"
"Vi... Chief Victor, it's not that we don't want to act, but we don't have the capability." A chief couldn't help speaking. Seeing the other look over, his whole body shuddered, automatically recalling Herrera García being beaten, quickly saying, "Drug trafficking groups have increasingly fierce firepower. They're equipped with assault rifles, grenades, even rocket launchers. This... we can't handle this."
"Yes, yes! I heard Benjamín got two armored vehicles from America. Our police station still uses revolvers. We have no way."
"I heard Tijuana Police Station hasn't paid salaries for three months. Police are selling popsicles on the street to make a living."
These were real problems. Victor naturally wouldn't get angry, instead listening quietly. Only after everyone finished did he nod.
"I know your concerns. These were problems before, but not anymore!"
"Guadalupe Island Police Station will conduct assistance operations for your four cities, providing a batch of weapons and military advisors to help you fight drug dealers. We'll handle all weapons and equipment."
"Moreover, we're willing to cover all your police stations' salaries."
This made their eyes light up.
"What you need to do is actually simple. To face the increasingly tense drug trafficking situation, you need to sign a cooperation agreement with me... no, with Guadalupe Island Police Station, for 5 years, mainly fighting crime within your territories!"
"This statement must be announced via television."
The chiefs looked at each other, all somewhat hesitant.
Wasn't this directly turning against Tijuana drug trafficking group?
What if they got killed?
No one dared speak.
Victor wasn't in a hurry either. One of his purposes in coming to Ensenada was this - uniting surrounding city police stations to form a unique "Victor Anti-Drug Alliance."
This needed naming rights - otherwise who would know who was in charge?
Moreover, if they were willing to join, this would be a "cooperative relationship," and criminals they killed or arrested would provide Victor with points!
"Gentlemen, evil cannot triumph over justice (caliber)!"
"Let's vote. I'm very democratic."
"Who's in favor? Who's opposed!"
Victor's gaze swept over them, "Those in favor please raise your hands."
He raised his own hand. The four police chiefs below looked at each other, and finally only one person raised his hand!
This was unavoidable...
Mexico had hundreds of years of drug trafficking history. To say something disheartening, the officials killed numbered in the hundreds of thousands, and millions of ordinary citizens had died.
Anti-drug efforts showed no dawn yet.
Victor was impressive, with weapons from who knows where, but with so few people - did he know how many drug dealers Mexico had?
500,000 people!
How many indirectly participated in transportation, sales, cultivation?
About 7 million!
This number written in documents was just a string of digits with no apparent meaning, but if so many people became unemployed simultaneously, guess what would happen?
The 1994 Chiapas peasant uprising in Mexico.
What era was this?
Still having such things showed how serious Mexico's problems were.
It wasn't that no one tried to change things - they just couldn't be changed.
Victor looked at the others below. The three men looked at each other and shrank their necks, not daring to meet Victor's gaze directly.
He wasn't angry either. Really not angry.
"Chief Simón Bolívar, you lost 2 million pesos at the casino last month. You probably can't repay this money, right? Tijuana drug trafficking group's money is easy to take, isn't it?"
A gray-haired middle-aged man sitting below immediately changed expression.
"Chief Tiago, your son killed someone in Tlaca, and it was a pregnant woman. You should know about this too, right?"
"And Ricasens, your wife owns thirteen shops under her name. Let me think who their previous owner was. Oh, seems to be called Ramón Félix, right? And you're a key Tijuana member. You were a drug dealer before becoming police - I'm not wrong, am I?"
Victor pointed at the other three, "Someone sent real-name reports to me. I think I should handle this."
The three immediately exploded.
"Mr. Victor, this... this is completely fabricated. Where are the reports? Where?" The chief called Ricasens jumped out.
The other two quickly chimed in.
Victor nodded, beckoned, and Casare handed him a pen. He scribbled some words and handed it over, "Here, the report."
This behavior simply opened their eyes.
Ricasens laughed angrily, "This is slander! Victor, you're retaliating against us."
"But the facts are just like this. When I, Victor, work, I always rely on evidence!"
Victor said, grabbing the nearby Ricasens and stuffing the paper into his mouth. The former struggled desperately and spat out the paper, but it was already torn.
"Oh my!"
"Ricasens, you can actually destroy evidence - this is contempt for the law!"
Victor was very angry.
Casare came in just hearing this sentence, immediately understanding it was his turn again. He brought officers to press these three men to the ground.
"You're lawless! Victor, you're the scum of police. This is slander - I'm going to sue you!" Ricasens was furious.
He really couldn't stand it and cursed out loud.
"So you're attempting to assault investigating personnel?"
Immediately, Ricasens stopped struggling. He was an old hand too. This phrase from Victor was too familiar - when Tijuana drug trafficking group had him do things before, he liked using this excuse to kill targets.
"He should be unsatisfied with my judgment. Have him go ask Mayor José López." Victor said to Casare.
The latter nodded expressionlessly, grabbed Ricasens' hair and dragged him forcibly out the door.
The remaining two shut up.
Go see Mayor José López?
Wasn't that guy dead?
Did Victor have "superpowers"? Could send the other to meet God!
"Don't worry, your crimes will have someone judge you."
This was Victor's gift to his former superior Alejandro.
The other was about to take office - he should give him some achievements, right?
Victor was fine except for his explosive temper, but was this a flaw?
After officers took them all away, Victor turned to look at the one sitting in the corner trembling like a pitiful creature.
Too terrifying!
Originally four people came in, now only he remained.
Horror movies at least let two protagonists survive, right?
Seeing the other look over, he quickly forced a smile, "Vi... Mr. Victor, I..."
"Want a smoke, Mr. Salvador Guillermo?"
Victor pulled out cigarettes and offered one. The other waved his hands, "No... can't, oh no no, thank you, thank you."
Guillermo quickly took it with both hands.
Victor smiled and nodded.
"I remember you serve in Tecate, right?"
The other nodded repeatedly.
"Go back with peace of mind. Bring your wife and children to Guadalupe Island - it's safe here. You don't want drug dealers to retaliate against them, right?"
Guillermo nodded with a bitter face.
"Don't worry, from now on I've got your back!"
"Anyone who touches you disrespects me, Victor."
"As long as you maintain good security in Tecate, I have ways to promote you. You don't want to stay at the grassroots level forever, right?" Victor patted his shoulder.
"We're police - we must hold the bottom line. If we can't hold the bottom line, this world will have no morality to speak of."
Among these four people, Guillermo should have made the "fewest" mistakes.
He had also accepted bribes from Tijuana Group.
Honestly, in Mexico's environment you either took money or your whole family died.
But aside from this, Guillermo was "clean" in everything else.
Most importantly, whether he took money or not - wasn't that Victor's call?
Ahem!
The law decides!
(End of Chapter)
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