Working as a police officer in Mexico

"Stop stop stop, red light, red light!" the co-driver anxiously pointed ahead.

"I've never had the habit of waiting for red lights!"

The driver's eyes darkened, "Waiting for a straight red light is the hardest!!!"

Boom!

The driver floored the accelerator and charged through.

Pedal to the metal…

Beep beep beep!!

A burst of urgent honking came, the co-driver sharply turned his head, terror-stricken to see a dump truck barreling from the right, followed by a loud crash, as the entire refrigerated truck flew in front of the tons-heavy toy.

Crushed into scrap metal.

The A-pillar pierced the driver's neck, eyes bulging, dead with eyes wide open, while the co-driver was spitting blood, looking at the gathering crowd, tremblingly reaching out his hand; he didn't want to die.

The blonde woman saw the wrecked refrigerated truck in her rearview mirror, smiled, took out her phone to compose a text message, not sure who it was sent to.

"Domestic turmoil possible, extremely vigilant!"

After sending it, she immediately deleted the message, and tossed her phone into the river while crossing the bridge, striding off.

Oh oh oh!

Another spy?

This… this is a bit too absurd.

Really, who in the world does not have connections with Emperor Vic.

...

"We are going to demolish the whole Kima Huakan Slum, not allowing any building to remain. Later, this place will be turned into plazas, shopping malls, and affordable resettlement housing projects. All original residents can apply for government approval, with priority given to impoverished families."

Casare sat in the primary seat, his face calm, looking at the heads of various civil departments below, his gaze sweeping over, "What we need to focus on now is urban redevelopment, the transformation of old houses, slum reconstruction, etc., these are all important to the General."

He paused, "I know what you are thinking."

"Corruption, it's okay, embezzle a little, just don't stuff your own pockets too much, but if it's grand corruption, such that public welfare projects are botched and the General is displeased with me, how can I make you happy?"

"You're just forcing me to commit murder."

Those he stared at felt a chill all over.

Don't be fooled by his seemingly jovial demeanor, the nickname "Fatty Tiger" is not for nothing.

"Right? Falko!" Casare's gaze suddenly fixed on the man sitting in the middle on the left, the man with glasses stood up when he heard his name, his forehead dripping with sweat, "Minister, I..."

"Are you trying to say you didn't know?"

Casare asked with a smile, squinting as he watched him.

Falko was the Deputy Minister of Education, mainly responsible for allocating funds to schools below, especially since Victor promised that every child could afford an egg, and that's pure silver.

Mexicans need to be strong!

Especially the students, they are still salvageable, those adults, drugged by the Yanks with narcotics and coke to the point of imbecility, not even aware when they kick the bucket, but the country needs a future, certainly requires good physical health.

"One egg" was a plan proposed by Victor.

Bang!

Casare slammed the table, the teacup fell to the ground, everyone silently bowed their heads, "I'm asking you, why are there 'no allocations' for schools in Sonora State, Sinaloa State, Chihuahua State? Where's the money?!"

"What role does your cousin play in this, do you think I don't know? The directors of education in those states are all your people, they took the money, lived it up, some even bought villas in the United States..."

Deputy Minister Falko's legs trembled, "Sir, sir, I didn't know? I didn't know any of this, they, they did it behind my back, I'm clean."

"Whatever it is, tell it to the Anti-Corruption Bureau." Casare clapped his hands, and two burly men walked in, one of them carrying a submachine gun, looking fierce.

The Anti-Corruption Bureau, full name Mexico Anti-Corruption and Bribery Bureau, Director: Casare Gonzalez!

Why was Mexico previously rampant with drug traffickers? Corrupt officials collaborated rampantly, bribery was rampant, even to the extent of buying and selling offices, sex and power trades, put it this way...

If it weren't for Victor, even God would have to toast here in Mexico.

Why didn't the United States covet Mexican territory after World War II? Apart from the rise of anti-colonialism, it was because Mexicans were too chaotic, they feared those bureaucrats would lead their "Little White Lotus" astray.

For the health of the new regime, the Anti-Corruption Bureau was established, staffed with military personnel.

"Take him away."

Two Anti-Corruption Bureau soldiers dragged Falko out.

"Sir! I've turned myself in, I've confessed, I've shed blood for Mexico, I've done meritorious service for the government!!"

Casare snorted coldly, his gaze landing on the Education Minister who was wiping sweat, "From now on, Propaganda Minister Goebbels will assume the role of Deputy Minister of Education as well as Deputy Minister of Finance and Deputy Prime Minister."

Goebbels, sitting in the back, had a calm expression, clearly aware of his impending promotion as he stood and saluted.

Others looked at him with mixed feelings.

They all knew it—the General was planning to promote him!

"Alright, meeting adjourned, everyone perk up." Casare waved his hand and the crowd began to surge out. Goebbels was about to leave when Casare pulled him aside, eying this promising newcomer, Fat Casare was also willing to give him a chance, "Come to my birthday celebration tonight. The General will be there too."

Goebbels was taken aback, but then tensely nodded his head, "Alright."

After a brief chat with Casare, his secretary hurried in, "Sir, representatives from the Abu Dhabi Investment Authority of the United Arab Emirates would like to meet with you."

"Alright, I'll be right there."

Casare nodded and after saying a few words to Goebbels, he hurried off, leaving the latter frowning.

"Is the General planning to bring in the Arabs?"

In the reception room, Casare met with the Deputy Director of the Abu Dhabi Investment Authority from the United Arab Emirates, Shahebut bin Sultan Al Nahyan, and his entourage.

From the name alone, one could tell that this guy was royalty; his brother was, in fact, the well-known "Old King."

Upon entering, Casare saw the emerald rings on all ten fingers of the other party, a garish display of newfound wealth that was frankly... infuriating!

Oil really does nurture people.

Since the discovery of oil in that godforsaken desert, wealth skyrocketed, and by 1980, the per capita wealth had already reached 43,000 US dollars, more than three times that of the United States at that time.

"Hello, Mr. Shahebut Ben," Casare greeted, smiling as if he were meeting his own father, having contacted the Emirates side a dozen times before they finally decided to send someone for an inspection visit.

Shahebut Ben was not haughty; although facing a poorer nation, he still exhibited proper gentlemanly demeanor, shaking hands with a slight bow, which was very polite of him.

The two parties sat down, and Casare started off with a torrent of praises, expressing his recent fascination with Arabian culture, considering it to be the finest in the world. Moreover, he felt that everyone was hardworking and saw a longing for a better world in them.

Everyone likes to be flattered, and the Emirates members were pleased to hear this.

Shahebut Ben nodded with a smile, "Mexico is also a beautiful country, I really like the air here. Actually, I've been here before, about twenty years ago, but that time, I had a poor impression, because I really dislike drugs."

"Of course!"

"Since General Victor took office, the air has gotten much cleaner. Drugs and drug traffickers undermine social stability, we absolutely cannot allow it to prevail, and will crack down severely—as a guarantee for the interests of foreign investors."

Shahebut Ben nodded vigorously, and then suddenly asked with a wide grin, "Mr. Casare, I've heard you have R-14 medium-range missiles? Are they for sale?"

Fat Casare was taken aback. We're discussing investments, how did we jump to arms deals?

"Sorry, Mr. Shahebut Ben, these weapons..."

"80 million US dollars each, we would like 30."

Casare's mouth dropped open.

The head-scarfed camel smiled sinisterly, greenbacks in hand, "Boss, just give in to me..."

"Ah Mou has money to burn!!"

Casare was genuinely startled.

But Shahebut Ben thought he was unmoved and furrowed his brow, "100 million US dollars each."

Damn!

Rich folks, is this how you use your money to hit people?

Casare was experiencing for the first time the direct impact of Middle Eastern wealth and realized...

A person's mouth can be so cold, yet speak words that feel so "warm."

"I need to report to the General."

"Money is no issue!"