Working as a police officer in Mexico

```

George Foreman thought it was some other request, but it turned out to be this one, he nodded, "OK, I'll make the arrangements."

"Thank you very much, and I believe that bastard's face is definitely in worse shape than your hand," Victor said with a smile.

"Protecting your safety is our duty."

The dinner was arranged at New York City Hall, roughly a 20-minute drive from the hotel.

On his way there, Victor saw various protest signs.

Anyway, bring it on, as nasty as you can get.

At about 6:45 PM, the convoy arrived at its destination.

Outside, the red carpet was already laid out, flanked by reporters, damn, one could believe it was the Cannes Film Festival.

Victor was now the darling of web traffic. On BBS, the boards were filled with his topics. Click on any, and it's his photos with people squabbling over them.

Some even cursed and agreed to fights in private messages.

Back then, BBS was, um... quite spectacular.

There is nothing you can't imagine, nothing the boards don't have.

As soon as Victor got out of the car, the reporters swarmed towards him but were blocked by the police.

"Mr. Victor, the family of the man you assaulted this afternoon accuses you of intentionally inflicting harm, considering your actions towards their son to be depraved. He is just a 21-year-old young man; don't you think you were too harsh?"

"Bring his parents over, and I'll beat them too. Tell them what family education is! What values are! A family that can raise a kid like that, if it were in Mexico, in my territory, I would have already hanged them."

George Foreman's mouth went numb at the side, and in a lowered voice, he said, "Sir, please don't make these statements anymore."

This continued provocation, he was truly afraid of even greater danger during this period.

Getting the "big mouth" Victor to stop talking was quite difficult; he could only manage a strained, "I will try!"

"Sir! Sir! What do you think about the proliferation of drugs in the United States?"

"Mr. Victor, some say you rule Mexico with an iron fist, not allowing them to grow cash crops or use drugs. Do you think that's a violation of human rights?"

Victor's expression really started twitching.

Dammit!

How can there be such retarded questions!

He took a deep breath, walked into City Hall, where the Mayor of New York and many celebrities were at the entrance to greet him.

Victor also saw many familiar faces, such as Alec Baldwin, who became popular in America for "The Doctor."

And Tom Cruise, who rose to fame with "Top Gun" in 1986 and was nominated for Best Actor at the 62nd Academy Awards in 1990 for "Born on the Fourth of July."

And Steven Spielberg, who directed "Jaws" and "E.T. the Extra-Terrestrial."

...

These people would all go on to influence Hollywood and several generations of Americans.

"Good evening, Mr. Victor," the Mayor of New York extended his hand to shake his, then introduced him to the other officials standing nearby and some of the celebrities.

"Leona Helmsley, the Queen of New York real estate, haha, she is a very, very, very great woman."

"Good evening, ma'am," Victor said gallantly, kissing her hand; no kidding, for a 70-year-old lady, her skin was not too shabby.

Leona Helmsley was worth at least 4 billion US dollars.

Rich old ladies.

"No need for introductions here, I suppose," the Mayor of New York pulled over a man with a big beard, jokingly saying, "No one can resist his movies."

"Hello, Mr. Spielberg."

"Good evening, Mr. Victor, I've known about you since you were the Director of the Guadalupe Island Police Station," the other man said.

This caught Victor off guard, and he smiled, saying, "Oh? That's truly an honor for me."

"I think you are a very charismatic person, and if possible, I would like to make a biopic for you, about you!"

"So you support the drug ban too?"

At this, Steven Spielberg chuckled but avoided giving a direct answer. He wouldn't comment on this as many Hollywood screenwriters and directors have a history of drug use.

River Phoenix died from drug use, and his brother is the famous Joaquin Phoenix, who appeared in "Alfred Hitchcock Presents."

They gloriously claim it's "to set the mind free, for the sake of creativity." Discover more stories at empire

Really, it's just a damn excuse.

And what bliss could possibly compare to getting high? If it doesn't cut it, just buy a Fleshlight.

Spielberg didn't want to offend certain people in the industry; his career was on the rise.

```

"I'd be happy to collaborate with you, just don't portray me as a tyrant," Victor said jokingly.

Imagine that! His own biopic premiering!

He would make sure every Mexican watched it. Wasn't it all about... boosting ticket sales?

Who the hell couldn't do that?

The Mayor of New York was about to introduce the next person, a fat man with sunglasses. How badass was that?

Before he could speak, the fat man cut to the chase, "Sir, I oppose your drug ban speech!"

...

Crack!

Thunder and lightning flickered across the sky.

Rain poured heavily in Tijuana.

"Meinas, close the window," shouted a woman from the kitchen. The little boy watching cartoons answered but kept turning his head back three times, eyes glued to the TV, afraid of missing anything.

He closed the window with force, ready to return, when he saw... a dozen vehicles on the street below, including an armored vehicle!

"Mom, there are police cars," he said.

Without looking up, the woman said, "Maybe they're patrolling. Go wash your hands. It's time to eat."

The boy replied but felt puzzled.

Why was this patrol heading towards City Hall?

Demetrius was sitting in a police Hummer.

Expressionless, his cigarette butt on the floor evidenced his nervousness, his lips trembling slightly.

Tonight, they would take City Hall!

To control everyone inside, his men split into three groups, one head to the airport, another to the TV station.

If they were successful here, in Mexico City, they could bring down Cuauhtémoc.

He wanted to overthrow Victor!

First, he had to take out his henchmen!

Approaching City Hall, they were stopped by a sentry, and two National Guard policemen came over, dressed in raincoats, knocking on the window.

Demetrius handed over his ID.

The policemen checked it and greeted with a salute.

"Sir, what brings you here so late?" asked a Senior Police Sergeant.

"Mind your own business and do your duties," Demetrius said sternly.

Chastised, they shrank back and waved him through.

Watching the convoy pass the inspection post, the Sergeant suddenly felt something was off—why was there an armored car?

And these men were armed to the teeth!

Plus... there was someone standing on a Hummer, gripping a machine gun. In heavy rain, TMD, not taking cover inside the vehicle, but soaking wet; you love your job that much, huh?

This was definitely not normal!

Armed... rebellion?

The word flashed through his brain, and a gust of wind accompanied by rain made him shiver unexpectedly.

"Stop! Stop! Quick, raise the alarm!"

This sergeant had come from the front-line police force, experienced at the grassroots level, not a clueless newbie fresh to the force.

He sensed something was wrong and took decisive action.

A subordinate officer dashed towards the booth, but before he could take two steps, he was spotted by the "rebels" manning the machine gun; they turned the gun barrel and opened fire immediately!

Rat-a-tat-tat...

The bullets tore the policeman apart, his body staggering to the ground.

"It's a mutiny! It's a mutiny!" the Senior Police Sergeant yelled, drawing his weapon to return fire, but there was no cover, and he was shot into a sieve, kneeling then toppling to the side, eyes still wide open.

With a severe expression, Demetrius ordered, "Charge in!"

"Take over City Hall!"

...