Working as a police officer in Mexico

August 4, 1990.

A U.S. Military C130 slowly descended at Tijuana Airport.

Fire trucks on both sides sprayed water, welcoming the plane.

The band below, following the conductor's cue, started to play.

High-level executives of Victor Group were all present!

You could choose not to come.

But then you might as well not show up for work tomorrow.

Hundreds of police officers were also brought in.

The purpose of this was to greet the returning "Warriors"!

The boarding stairs were lowered, and as Kennedy, bandaged up, appeared, the reporters below who could hardly contain themselves started snapping photos furiously.

Kennedy waved his hand and, looking at the familiar surroundings, couldn't help but say, "I'm back!"

Jonathan Pannier behind him also let out a long sigh.

His beard was unkempt, giving him something of a caveman appearance.

"God bless."

"This is Tijuana, pal, honor the name of Victor," Kennedy said with a smile.

Jonathan Pannier shrugged his shoulders, "God bless Victor!"

When in Rome, do as the Romans do.

After all, Americans don't really have true faith.

They descended the boarding stairs in turn, and children brought them flowers.

"Boss..." As Kennedy saw Victor, he just called out when the other gave him a hug, "You did hard work!"

He embraced each of the warriors one by one.

The Mexican News Agency covered them from all angles.

This was a live broadcast!

Victor wanted to make a big deal out of it!

Across Mexico, over 20 million people were watching in front of their TVs. Governmental and military agencies, schools, malls were all required to broadcast it.

Victor Carlos Vieri Military Academy on Guadalupe Island.

This school, occupying 1,100 acres, has approximately 800 students, all islanders of appropriate age, with parents of clean background, no history of drug trafficking or drug use, and no tattoos on their own bodies.

In the middle of the school, a sculpture stood imposingly—it was Victor, his hand pointing toward the distance, with an inscription below: He is creating Mexico's greatness!

This style was somewhat reminiscent of Niyazov of Turkmenistan.

That guy put up over 14,000 statues of himself throughout the country.

Perhaps, all successful people are extremely narcissistic.

Victor's military academy didn't require any fees and even provided a monthly stipend of 60 US dollars. Food and clothing were all covered—just one thing was asked, loyalty to Duke Victor!

Above the classroom blackboard, besides the Mexican coat of arms, stood a portrait of Victor.

About 30 students sat in the classroom, both boys and girls, sitting up straight in their uniforms, watching the TV.

On the screen, honor guards carried out coffins from the transport plane—those who succumbed to serious injuries on the way after withdrawal from the battle in Ecuador.

A weighty voiceover appeared on television.

"These heroic drug enforcement officers have left their youth, their blood, and even their lives for the righteous mission!"

"They transcended nationality, gender, age, and even race; they were true heroes!"

Bang!

Bang!

Bang!

The soldiers in formation fired salutes into the sky.

Once the coffins were appropriately placed, Victor bowed to them one by one.

Then standing in front of them, with tears brimming in his eyes, he began his speech.

"I would like to talk about the drug issue once more."

"Facts have shown that those drug traffickers are bastard children of a bitch, using drugs to destroy our bodies, our nation, our ethnicity, our world!"

"How long have the Mexican people fought drugs?"

"Since President Aleman's national anti-drug campaign in 1947? No, since August 24, 1821, from the day we gained independence!"

"That year, we enjoyed freedom, the joy of finally being in charge of our own home. That year, Mexico was no longer just a noun!"

"It was also from that moment, the drug traffickers set their sights on this land, deceiving our farmers with dirty and violent means!"

"For a full 169 years! The Mexican people have been fighting drugs for 169 years!"

"Gentlemen, although we have not succeeded yet, we can never afford to lose," Victor waved his hand vigorously, "we all sacrifice, today it is them." He turned, indicating the coffins.

"Tomorrow it might be you, or it might even be me."

"But we absolutely must not lose this war. The Mexican people must not lose. The people of the world must not lose, committed to the anti-drug cause for life!"

"I declare that we will fight against all drug cartels worldwide, occupiers of the Golden Triangle, the Silver Triangle, nothing but a pack of bastards."

"If the drug traffickers of the world want to control it, please, they'll have to step over my dead body!"

"Long live Victory!"

"The anti-drug fight must prevail!"

The whole classroom echoed with Victor's impassioned speech, and the young students sitting below felt their blood boiling with excitement.

"Long live Victory!"

"Long live Victor!"

"Annihilate all the drug traffickers in the world!"

Suddenly, a loud voice shouted, and everyone looked over to see Santos with reddened eyes raising his hand high.

This top fan and godson of Victor was trembling with excitement.

His close buddy Campos also stood up, waving his hand and shouting vehemently.

Santos's voice was hoarse as he shouted, carrying far, and nearly everyone in the military academy heard it.

Gradually...

Some joined in, some roared, some stood in the corridors shouting Victor's name loudly.

Do you know why 18-year-olds are called youths?

Because they are filled with enough passion and hope for this world, wanting to break new ground, desiring to change the world.

Perhaps people in their thirties or forties will mock them, thinking their efforts are in vain and that society cannot change.

But one should not mock the youth, for their present is also what you once were.

Victor has become famous once again.

His "Battle Declaration" was broadcast on numerous television stations in the neighboring United States and Canada, as well as other Latin American countries.

This man, around 30 years of age, is on the rise!

Many insightful people began to respond to him.

On a talk show in the United States that evening, the guest was the popular bombshell Anna Nicole Smith, with her curvy figure, perfect for injecting filler.

The host asked her a question, "Who do you most want to have sex with right now?"

Anna answered directly, laughing heartily, "Victor Carlos Vieri—he's the manliest man I've ever met!"

After speaking, she proceeded to tear at her clothes, revealing her breasts, which were tattooed with Victor's name.

"I've already arranged for a tattoo artist. I want his name tattooed on my tits and ass—I absolutely adore him. I hope he can come to the United States; I want to meet him."

She boldly professed her love to the camera, "Victor, I love you. May I have your contact information?"

On August 5th, more than 10,000 people marched in Washington, U.S.A, hoping to support Victor in Mexico and to advocate for nationwide drug prohibition.

They carried banners and chanted outside government buildings.

But if you looked closer...

Most of them were middle-aged or even older, and frankly speaking, mostly white and Asian descent.

Across from them were plenty of Niger and other minorities composed of drug addicts sticking up their middle fingers.

"Idiots! Prohibition? Victor is a bastard, so are you bastards too? Stupid whites, I think you've gone mad. Yo yo, look at that fat pig over there, you should do drugs—it would help you lose weight! (Do not try this!)" A black man with a baseball cap and black sunglasses sang rhythmically.

This was part of black street culture.

The woman he pointed at, upon hearing this insult, charged over in fury.

"Yo yo yo, here she comes! The fat pig is..."

The black man had not finished speaking when he witnessed a shocking scene—the woman pulled down her pants and flung her sanitary pad, hurling it with all her might.

Strength + luck = a face full of it!

With a splat, it stuck directly to his face.

A foul smell instantly rose to his head, and the black man screamed loudly, "Aaargh!"

His friends hurriedly pulled the sanitary pad off, revealing the man's face covered in blood.

"Fuck her up! Fuck her up!"

The anti-prohibition crowd swore as they charged forward, and naturally, the other side wouldn't stand by and watch their comrade be bullied—they joined in to help, and the two groups immediately clashed.

It turned into a mass...mass...mass brawl.

The police quickly intervened, and the military arrived too.

The incident caused quite a stir, resulting in 7 deaths and over 200 injuries.

That's Victor, loved intensely by some and hated deeply by others!

The United States also held a press conference, announcing support for Mexico's anti-drug efforts, and would provide 20 million US dollars in assistance, as well as gradually delivering 20 P-51A "Mustang" fighter planes. Continue your adventure with empire

When Victor saw this news on television,

he couldn't help but laugh crookedly.

It was a bitter laugh.

P-51A "Mustang"?

Why don't you give me an "Air Cobra" P39, or the so-called "Toy Gun" XP-26?

Chief, can you be any stingier?

The P-51A is almost 60 years old by now, do you seriously think drug traffickers are that poor? Sure, this dive bomber might be useful, but are you sure it won't get blasted out of the sky by the drug traffickers' surface-to-air missiles?

Drug trafficker = money = boss = armed personnel = rebellion!

So, drug trafficker = bastards!

Being rich and willing to spend, these bastards can be cruel.

With the backing of Pablo and many warlords, you give me P-51As!

Fuck you!

Victor turned off the TV in a huff, cigarette dangling from his lips, and said to Jason Bourne, "Shit, those penny-pinchers. Sooner or later, The Pentagon's going to get bombed too!"

"Boss, should we take these antiques or not?"

"Take them!"

"Why not take them? If they're giving them, we're taking." Victor said with glaring eyes.

Having them is better than not.

He swiveled his chair to face the clear map of Mexico hanging behind him, tracing his finger across it, pausing at a city named "Chinipas."

He tapped twice, "We'll place the planes here when the time comes."

"Chinipas" was conveniently situated between Chihuahua State and Sinaloa State—hee hee, I can strike wherever I want!

After taking over Sonora State, Victor constructed 11 airfields between the two states, with four on the border of Sonora State, capable of housing over 100 planes.

Around-the-clock hard work by drug traffickers can indeed make things happen.

"Your intelligence department has just one job to do, find out where Guzman's mother lives, and send her heavenward."

Jason Bourne always felt that the boss cared a lot about targeting people's mothers.

Guzman's mother must be in her sixties or seventies by now.

Just then, Casare came knocking and entered, an odd expression on his face, "Boss, there's news from the United States."

"What is it?"

"They want you to attend a memorial service in New York on August 9th."

Victor was taken aback.

"The Americans invited me to the United States?"

Casare nodded.

Ahuh.

Now that's interesting.

He thought for a moment, then nodded in agreement.

"Alright! I'm going to the United States to ask for donations, damn it!"

Americans have money—it's time to go ask for a meal!

...