Working as a police officer in Mexico

Chapter 120 In my eyes, I am the evidence!

"Raul Salinas?"

The bald president's brother?

That idiot who stands in the busiest bars of Mexico and loudly declares, "There's nothing in Mexico I can't handle"?

Seems like he has a pretty good relationship with a few drug trafficking groups.

He squinted, unwilling to bother, but seeing the look in his old boss Alejandro's eyes, he reluctantly picked up the phone.

"Good afternoon, Mr. Victor," the man on the other end tried to sound gentlemanly, but his voice was truly fucking annoying.

"What do you want, Mr. Raul?" Victor was talking nonsense with the man on the phone in his left hand while he spoke carelessly.

"I heard you guys attacked a drug trafficker's camp on the border of Sonora State??"

The moment Victor heard this, he knew the bastard was looking for trouble. He sat up straight and cut him off, "Raul, I need to correct you. It's not called an attack, it's called a drug raid!"

"Please don't misuse your words! You should have been to school, right?"

Victor had no interest in being nice to such scum.

Anyone who works with drug traffickers deserves to fucking die!

Extreme?

Victor will show you what extreme looks like with a caliber.

Alejandro held his forehead; there was definitely something wrong with Victor's character, but actually, he was easy to get along with—as long as you weren't drug trafficking.

You deal drugs, what fucking business of yours is it to talk to me?

Raul Salinas was also confused by Victor. Doesn't he realize he's the brother of the president, basically royal?

He was so angry his nose was crooked as he yelled, "Victor! I came to you to mediate the conflict."

"With whom? Drug traffickers? Mr. Raul, you're a citizen of Mexico, not a Mexican drug trafficker, and what are you shouting for? Who the hell do you think you are to raise your voice at me? Watch your fucking back when you walk at night and when you sleep, don't sleep too soundly.

Keep your eyes open."

Victor cussed him out and then hung up the phone, looking at Alejandro, who was stunned. "In the future, don't let me take calls from such trash. I'm afraid I won't be able to resist smashing his fucking head in."

I have so many people under me; if you have the guts, let your brother bring you to stand in front of me and talk.

Alejandro gave a wry smile and poured him a glass of water. "The president's brother is said to have a violent nature, killed a maid when he was a child, and hasn't changed since growing up."

Victor squinted, "Such scum, living is just unfair to everyone else!"

It's not just drug enforcement that is the duty of a police officer, but also maintaining social order and protecting the rights of civilians.

Let a murderer roam free?

That's trampling on the law!

He is "The Vanguard of the Law" in Mexico.

He'll have to find someone to drag that bastard in. Victor is not one to offend people and then let them strike first.

Either don't offend at all, or if you do make an enemy, then go all out against them.

Do you think Victor was just scaring him by telling him to sleep with his eyes open?

"I have a bad heart. Him shouting at me is like looking down on me."

Meanwhile, in a luxurious mansion in Mexico City.

Raul Salinas listened to the dial tone on the phone, stunned, with Victor's curses still ringing in his ears.

"Fuck! Fuck!" He snapped back to reality, yanked the phone off and smashed it to the ground, his shoulder-length hair flailing in anger—a stark contrast to his bald brother. Makes you wonder if they're even related.

The servants who heard the commotion hurried in, uncertain what to do at the sight of the broken phone on the floor.

"Get out! Get out! Who let you in?" Raul Salinas grabbed an ashtray from the table and threw it, hitting the maid right on the forehead, causing her to cry out in pain.

But it was as if that scream only fueled his rage more, as he grabbed the maid's head and started slamming it against the wall!

"Does it hurt! Does it?!" Continue your story on M-V-L

The maid was screaming in agony at first, trying to block the blows with her hands, but eventually, she lost her strength. Her face was covered in blood, and when Raul Salinas finally let go, she collapsed limply on the floor.

The bastard!

Raul Salinas sat down on the sofa with red eyes and heavy breath, he picked up the glass of red wine beside him and gulped it down, his eyes fierce and vindictive.

He always enjoyed playing underhanded tricks. In the past, when someone competed with his brother for a position, he was the one to deal with them—and that person's entire family was burned to death!

Being accustomed to using violence, he wanted to solve problems with violence, but... Victor's fists were even harder.

"I simply cannot believe that there isn't anyone who is tempted by money, Victor! If you don't like money, then I'll just buy off the people beside you!"

Raul Salinas smashed the glass on the floor and, looking at the maid lying there, a vicious smile flashed across his eyes.

...

The next day, May 20, 1990.

Cambra Valley.

Police were everywhere!

About 37 television station reporters from all of Mexico were invited for a media press conference here, and ordinary citizens were allowed to visit, but the number was capped at 200 people.

Everyone had been searched.

If someone brought dangerous weapons, it would cause chaos—the drug traffickers' bottom line was filthier than a roadside sewer.

The valley was scrubbed clean, the corpses? They were long gone, even the soil blackened by the incident was dug up overnight.

On the left, there was 15 tons of drugs; on the right, confiscated weapons.

Many reporters did not cease pressing their shutter buttons, exclamations spilling out from their lips.

"It's starting, gentlemen, please take your seats, you will have time for photos later," the police who were maintaining the order called out to the reporters to sit down.

Victor, dressed in his police uniform adorned with rows of medals on the left, walked up on stage from below.

These medals… handed out by the Guadalupe Island Police Station.

Mexico City was really stingy.

Victor looked down at the reporters sitting below, gently smiled, adjusted the microphone, and was about to speak when suddenly he saw four or five people standing up below, taking off their clothes to reveal their bodies painted with the words: "Using White Phosphorus Shells is a sin!"

The leader was a woman, with size X00X big enough to write on, hysterically screaming, "Boycott the police use of lethal weapons! There are only civilians in the Cambra Valley, no drug traffickers!"

She is about to rush up.

Victor calmly and from on high watched this unfold.

The police maintaining order immediately gave her a buttstroke with their guns, no, one for each person, then dragged her away by the hair just as if they were dragging a dead dog, while she continued to howl, "This is slaughter! Not the maintenance of stability!"

The reporters, upon witnessing such a scene, eagerly lifted their cameras to take pictures.

"Chief Victor, do you not think it is too much to treat a protesting woman in such a way?" A female reporter stood up righteously indignant, her colleagues forcefully pulling at her.

"In Mexico, the only people who plead for drug traffickers are the drug traffickers themselves! The woman just now, her husband is a drug trafficker who killed 17 people, and she herself is a drug addict and involved in trafficking. Guadalupe Island Police Station has had a warrant out for her for a long time; I didn't expect her to show up on her own," Victor glanced and knew what that woman was.

"Where's the evidence! Where is the evidence!" the female reporter persisted.

Victor narrowed his eyes, "If you don't believe what I say, you are free to leave, madam, but here, my word is the evidence!"

"Please do not throw a fit here, otherwise... I will have the officers escort you out."

She tried to speak again, but her colleague covered her mouth and pressed her down, smiling apologetically at Victor.

"Idiot!" Victor said with disdain.

Some people like to discuss humanity, believing that drug traffickers are human too and should be "respected." Then they are influenced by some ideas from the United States, thinking all life should be respected, and they extend this "respect" even to criminals.

This kind of issue would only grow larger later on.

Isn't that what happened with "Breivik" in 2011? He killed 77 people in 135 minutes, and then said in court that he should either be sentenced to death or placed in the best prison.

As a result...

The victims from Norway chose to forgive him.

QNMD!

Anyway, egregious crimes should be met with the death penalty, in Victor's opinion, drug traffickers aren't human, it's just that now isn't the right time, someday he must broadcast a "burning of drug traffickers!"

To deter everyone.

The law is meant to deter, not just to judge.