The mined beach and dock area.
Everywhere there were legless corpses.
Most of them had been wailing all night. Who was going to treat them?
Did they expect Victor to treat them?
Forget it... even Satan was laughing out loud.
Kennedy led about 50 prisoners, making them form groups of three holding hands side by side. "You just need to walk three round trips."
The drug dealers looked at each other.
Their legs were shaking, and they couldn't help but take a step back.
Rat-a-tat-tat...
Bullets swept into the sand behind them, hitting their heels painfully. Kennedy's sinister voice came over. "Step back and die! If you're unwilling, I'll kill you and use your corpses to detonate mines."
There was no reasoning with the people on Guadalupe Island.
You want to buy your life with money?
Kill you, and the money is Victor's too.
Staying alive was simple: obey the law and protect nature.
Under gunpoint coercion, the drug dealers held hands, and it was just a matter of whose luck was good.
Bang!
The first group hadn't walked far when their luck ran out. They were directly blown into the sky, and the three people truly shared their fate.
"Next group!"
Successive explosions echoed from several beaches, and occasionally listening to them was quite pleasant.
This continued for more than two hours.
Kennedy looked at the drug dealers lying on the ground covered in sweat. Less than 10 remained, and he grinned. "Congratulations, gentlemen, you're still alive."
"Over there..." A drug dealer pointed to those with blown-off limbs still wailing.
"They're beyond help."
Kennedy walked to an injured drug dealer's side. The man had lost his ears and half his face was blown apart. Kennedy clicked his tongue twice. "Victor bless you."
Bang bang!
He gave him two shots.
This was mercy from Mr. Victor!
"Get up, get up!" Kennedy shouted for the drug dealers to stand. Those who got up slowly received a kick.
He had people put handcuffs on them, stringing them together.
They panicked.
"What... what's this for?"
"Didn't you promise to let us go?"
"Don't worry, we won't take your lives. Our Chief Victor keeps his word. We're just taking you on a parade! Don't you want to see inside Guadalupe Island? We'll show you around!"
...
Humvee police cars drove through residential areas, loudspeakers announcing: "Residents, the great Police Chief Victor has defeated the coalition army formed by drug dealers!"
"Please have all residents come downstairs to the streets to cheer our victory!"
Why did this language sound increasingly like that of a dictator?
"Victory! We're victorious!" Top subordinate and passionate youth Santos excitedly raised his hand, pulling his friend and Stephanie downstairs.
"Mom, uncle, hurry up or we'll be too late." Before leaving, he didn't forget to greet Valentina and the man.
Valentina and Dexter looked at each other and smiled helplessly.
The streets were filled with cheering crowds everywhere.
They stood on both sides, craning their necks.
They held flags from who knows where, waving them vigorously.
"They're coming, they're coming!"
Santos was short and couldn't see, anxiously pushing inward. His face was deformed by being squeezed against someone's butt, but he finally squeezed through.
He saw Humvees with mounted heavy machine guns, dragging drug dealers behind them.
All around were excited cheers.
"Serves them right! These drug dealers should all be killed!!"
"Right, drug dealing never has good endings. Mr. Victor did right."
"If you ask me, they should all be killed. The Chief is really too kind."
Santos listened to the conversations around him and felt proud, constantly pulling others to tell them, "Sir is my godfather. In a few days, he's going to baptize me."
Hearing this, residents all looked surprised, then patted his head. "Then you must study well with Mr. Victor. He's an excellent police officer."
"Yes, yes, yes, I want to eliminate all the criminals in Mexico!"
The adults around him laughed and encouraged him.
Just then, the cheering grew louder. Santos looked over and saw Victor sitting in a Humvee, waving at them.
Just like...
He was reviewing his subjects?
The "Island Duke" of Guadalupe Island was already showing off his might to his people!
Looking at the imposing Victor, Santos's face showed longing.
His belief became even more firm in his mind.
Follow Victor, learn from Victor, become Victor!
Those drug dealers hung their heads like walking corpses, completely spiritless. This was called crushing their hearts. Did they think living longer was better?
Committing crimes on Guadalupe Island, death penalty was the most "gentle" punishment.
Bang!
Matamoros!
Abrego dropped the golden AK47 in his hands to the ground. He squinted. "Failed?"
"All dead..." El Mencho lowered his head, his tone also carrying disbelief. He admitted he didn't believe this drug dealer "coalition" would win.
This was his intuition, but he never expected them to lose so quickly.
"Even catching 1,000 pigs would take all night!" Abrego pulled his hair. "Benjamin was an idiot!"
If Benjamin were still alive, he would certainly shout injustice. This firepower couldn't catch pigs, but could roast them.
"We can seize Baja California's territory now, but this would put us in direct conflict with Victor." Abrego was really getting scared now.
Benjamin was dead!
Tijuana would be split up and reorganized. The Félix family was all together now. Decades of drug organization just gone like that?
Would the Abrego family repeat the same mistake?
El Mencho saw the hesitation flash across his face. "Boss, we should massively upgrade to new weapons and hire the most professional instructors."
"From Africa, Europe, even Asia - we can hire more people to join the team. We need military-grade weapons as backup."
"If America doesn't have goods, we can go to the Soviet Union. I recently heard the Soviets are having some financial difficulties. We can send people over to see if there are benefits?"
Look, he was now showing his "fangs." As a child, he had many siblings at home, attended elementary school, then came out to work feeling it had no future, illegally crossed to America and mixed among various cities in California.
He joined Mexican-American criminal organizations, doing everything from swindling to drug trafficking and smuggling.
Multiple arrests and imprisonments.
By age 24, he already had over ten years of work experience. Originally he was to be deported back to his hometown Michoacán, where supposedly he had already found connections to join the police force.
But because he was shrewd and ruthless, Abrego took notice, making him a close associate.
El Mencho had figured it out.
Mexico's current situation was changing. Drug dealers also had to move toward warlord level!
"Boss, falling behind means getting beaten! Tijuana is already gone."
Seeing Abrego still hesitating, El Mencho added fuel to the fire.
After all, Abrego also had courage. His ability to lead a small organization to today's corporate group showed his methods.
"Take out $300 million to buy weapons!"
"I don't believe Victor can keep suppressing us in a firefight with me!"
$300 million in arms - for major countries, this was nothing of course.
But this was drug dealers...
Drug dealers increasing military spending?
El Mencho truly deserved to be Mexico's "king of escalation."
One sentence made a man willingly shell out $300 million for him.
More than Mexico's entire annual military budget.
In the future...
Things would probably get more and more lively.
(End of Chapter)
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