Casare knitted his eyebrows and asked, "Boss, who do you think it is?"
When this question was asked, a bloody reality was laid before them; at his core, Casare had already begun transforming into a political animal.
He intended to maximize the benefits from this "incident."
There's no need to pay attention to those small fry who jump out; they're just a bunch of losers trying to stir up trouble secretly. But if this were pinned on the "Yanks," then evidently, anti-American conflict within Mexico would intensify!
What do you call this?
This is called manipulating the tide of thought. To put it further, it's about wielding public opinion to one's advantage.
Victor picked up the pack of cigarettes on the table, shook it, and extended it toward Casare, who quickly stood up and took a cigarette with both hands. Just as he was about to sit down, the former picked up a lighter and lit it for him.
That left Fat Casare at a bit of a loss.
