Working as a police officer in Mexico

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Both sides were being stubborn.

"You've got an agricultural surplus in the United States, aren't you worried?"

"If we transport it somewhere else, the costs are just going to rise."

"Just hold on a little longer, let's see who panics first in a year or so."

"Some Third World countries are actually quite 'wealthy.'"

"You all at the staff department put together a list of countries ravaged by drugs and crime; we'll pick one to support. In the path of common drug prohibition, we won't allow any comrade to be left behind!"

Horatio Herbert Kitchener nodded.

Victor's reach was truly beginning to extend outward.

Suriname. Paramaribo.

On the streets, you could see all kinds of skin colors.

Due to the tropical rainforests, beaches and beautiful scenery, Suriname's tourism industry was quite developed. However, just like other Latin American countries, due to its unique geography—located in the northern part of South America, bordering French Guiana to the east, Brazil to the south, Guyana to the west, and the Atlantic Ocean to the north—its public safety was an issue.

Don't go out at night!

Because the majority of the population here was black.

You know...

And with a history of military coups, things here were not as good as one might imagine.

Inside a "Spicy Hot Pot" restaurant,

from outside, you could see bright lights and hear the voices of men, "Roll the dice, damn it, eight o'clock!"

A man with a buzz cut, tattooed, and shirtless, flung a pair of cards onto the table, pointing at someone across from him, "You've got nerve to take my money, Ah San!"

Opposite was a man of Indian descent, whose face was dark, possibly because he hadn't cleaned it properly.

Gripping the edges of the cards tightly, Indian men behind him chanted and huffed, but in the end, only three points were revealed, followed by a wail of despair.

"Ah San is always a loser, Guang, collect the money!" The man sneered as his lackeys happily gathered the cash. A few disgruntled Indians reached out to grab it, but a machete slammed directly onto the table.

"If you make a move, I'll kill you today and throw you into the sea!"

"Chen Zhen, don't be too arrogant!" shouted the gambling Indian, slapping the table in frustration.

"You're in Suriname challenging me? You asking for death? Fuck off!"

The man pulled out a gun from behind him and pointed it at the others.

Ah San looked as uncomfortable as if he had eaten shit. Eventually, with a dark face, he said, "Let's go."

And left with his people.

Chen Zhen smiled smugly, pointing at the money on the table, "Brothers, go ahead and split it."

"Thanks, Brother Zhen!"

A group of underlings laughed and nodded.

"Brother Zhen, I need to take three days off," said one local hot pot shop employee with red eyes.

"What's wrong? Your mother died?"

"My mom was caught in a gang shootout... she's dead..." The employee burst into tears.

Chen Zhen frowned thoughtfully, drew out 3000 Suriname dollars, handed it over, and patted his shoulder, "Let me know if you need anything; take care of the body for now."

"Thank you, thank you!" The other man nodded with gratitude, wiped away his tears, took the money, and left.

In this godforsaken place...

Gang presence was all too common.

This was one of the reasons why Chinese people, Indians, and other ethnic minorities banded together; to avoid unity was to invite death.

Chen Zhen looked outside, shook his head, then his expression suddenly sharpened, noticing a handsome middle-aged white man entering the door, tipping his hat as a salute when he saw him.

"Benito? What brings you here?"

"I have a business proposition for you, Mr. Chen, if you have a moment to discuss it?"

Chen Zhen sized up the other man and then shook his head, "Follow me."

Benito smiled at his men and followed him upstairs to the office.

"Have a seat, what's the deal? You want me to take someone out?"

As a local strongman, Chen Zhen and his crew were known for fair pricing: a one-stop service for slashing and dumping bodies.

You think overseas Chinese... are really all peaceful folks?

"I heard a few days ago some Spanish soldiers caused trouble on your turf? Made quite a mess?" asked Benito.

Chen Zhen's face darkened.

A couple of days ago, a Spanish fleet had docked, and those soldiers had come ashore raising hell on his patch—harassing women, getting drunk and stripping, and even dining and dashing.

This just wouldn't do; a fight broke out.

The Spaniards ended up with two with broken legs, Chen Zhen's men had been arrested too, but with Qinna's backing, they were released quickly, though a feud had been started.

"What, are you here as their mediator?"

Benito smiled and pulled out a check from his pocket, set it on the desk and slid it over, "This is two hundred thousand US dollars. I need your help with something."

Chen Zhen looked up at him.

"Just need a small favor. I know the Spaniards head out to the market to buy vegetables every day, and most of those farmers are from Guangyi Hall. So, I'd like to add a little something to the vegetables."

!!!!

"Add what?" Chen Zhen asked with a raised eyebrow.

Benito narrowed his eyes, "Ricin!"

He could already envision the shock in the other man's eyes, but after waiting a moment, Chen Zhen still looked clueless, "What's that?"

Damn!

Illiterate!
Your adventure continues at My Virtual Library Empire

Benito's face turned red with irritation, "Just a kind of spray."

"I may not know what it is, but it sure as hell isn't anything good," Chen Zhen said with a grin, his gaze unfriendly.

Anything with a toxin couldn't be good.

Seeing his reaction, Benito quickly understood, "I can add another two hundred thousand US dollars."

"Deal!"

Sure enough, the moment money was mentioned, Chen Zhen's expression instantly lightened, and he smiled happily.

Benito looked at him intently, "Aren't you afraid of getting into trouble? And don't you wonder who I am?"

"I don't care who you are, you pay and I'll do the work. If I was scared, would I be in Suriname?"

"You know what I'm afraid of? I'm afraid I won't make money and can't face my family back home."

"I fear poverty, not death!"

"And no credit, I want full payment."

...

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