Working as a police officer in Mexico

Abrego was pushing his uncle, Juan Nepomuceno, in a wheelchair for a stroll in the garden.

The weary Nepomuceno coughed, then self-mockingly said, "This is what it\'s like getting old, having to run to the hospital every other day, it\'s troublesome for you to worry about me."

Abrego, a rather portly man, laughed and placed a hand on Nepomuceno\'s shoulder, "Uncle, what\'s that? You used to carry me on your shoulders. Without you, I might have starved on the streets by now."

"My little Abrego has grown up," the old man liked to reminisce and sigh, "And I\'ve grown old."

"Don\'t worry, Uncle, the doctors here are excellent. They\'ll take good care of you. If you\'re not satisfied, just tell me. I can have doctors brought over from the United States if needed."

It was unclear whether this "bringing over" would involve regular methods.

"What\'s there to be unsatisfied about? Compared to the other old guys, at least I can die in peace, not on the streets. That\'s the biggest fortune one can have."

Abrego looked at Nepomuceno\'s face covered in liver spots and could only heave a sigh in his heart, providing comfort in the other\'s final days.

Just as he was enjoying the fine weather, a core member came running over, about to speak, but stopped upon seeing Nepomuceno.

"You go ahead, a caretaker can push me back," the old man considerately patted the other\'s arm, and Abrego nodded, "Uncle, I\'ll come to see you after I finish my work."

Nepomuceno smiled and nodded.

Abrego hurriedly left with the core member, passing by a doctor wearing a mask, who turned back to look at him, then cast his gaze towards Nepomuceno and approached, "Let me help you, sir."

Nepomuceno looked up, as his nature was cautious, examining the other person. This was his "habit," but then he thought, this was a private hospital, after all.

Most of Mexico\'s private hospitals had a "background".

Drug cartels, the government, local gangs - what did they pool their resources for?

It was a "safe haven" for old drug traffickers who wanted to retire. Walking the dark paths too much leads one to live in fear.

As for people.

The older they get, the more they fear death!

"Thank you, doctor," Nepomuceno said, his smile resembling that of any ordinary old man. Who would guess that he once monopolized smuggling routes and brothels in Matamoros at the US-Mexico Border?

The doctor nodded, pushing the wheelchair into the building.

Most of the drug lords stayed in single suites with three rooms and a bathroom, including a TV, air conditioning, and an air purifier, with bed sheets changed daily.

The doctor wheeled Nepomuceno into the room. The latter waved his hand and said with a smile, "I can take it from here, thank you."

"You\'re welcome, Mr. Nepomuceno, but someone sent me to deliver a message to you."

The doctor took off his mask, locked the door from the inside, then leaned in and whispered, "Mr. Victor sends his regards!"

He grabbed Nepomuceno\'s hair, covering his face and furiously dragging him, obviously, the old man tried to resist, but how could he compete in strength with a burly young man.

He was forcefully pulled from the wheelchair and dragged into the restroom.

And pressed down into the toilet bowl!

The old man struggled fiercely.

But water from the toilet rushed into his nostrils and ears.

Shortly after, his body went limp.

If you don\'t believe it, you can try it out with a toilet at home, you\'ll find it\'s easy to get waterlogged quickly.

Lifting his hand, Nepomuceno collapsed on the ground, his face turned a purplish hue. The assassin calmly turned on the tap to wash his hands, then leisurely took a dark pen from his shirt pocket and wrote on the conspicuous wall:

"¡Víctor te recuerda, ¡por favor, respeta la ley!"

(Victor reminds you, please abide by the law!)

After writing this, the assassin straightened the wheelchair that was lying on the floor and opened the door to leave.

Fingerprints?

In Mexico, was there a need to prevent leaving fingerprints at a murder scene?

If you\'ve got the guts, seek revenge. If you have the means, take my head.

Around three or four minutes after the assassin left, a carefree caretaker walked in but not two seconds later, screamed and ran out, her face ashen, but after a few steps, her legs gave way, and she collapsed onto the ground.

When her colleagues rushed over and saw what was inside the room, they, too, were scared to the bone. Find your next read on m_v l|e-NovelBin.net

Abrego quickly received the news and arrived.

Looking at Nepomuceno with eyes wide open, he knelt down on one knee, placed a hand over his eyes, took a deep breath, and stood up with teary eyes.

Stepping out of the sickroom, he saw the shaken and distracted caretaker standing at the door, and spoke without a hint of humanity in his voice, "I don\'t want to see them."

A drug trafficker beside him grabbed the caretakers\' hair and dragged them away like dead dogs.

The caregiver screamed, begged for mercy, and cried out loud, but did you expect a drug lord, that scum, to have a soft heart?

You might as well ask the Vatican to pray to the Coming One.

"Boss, Luto y vicisitud (Lament!),"

Abrego\'s triangular eyes reflected ferocity, "Cut the crap! It would be right for Victor to mourn!"

"Tell the guys in Tijuana to kill Victor, and I\'ll give up two US channels and introduce them to the Cali Cartel\'s goods!"

Upon hearing this, the henchman nearly blurted out: "Boss, think twice."

Abrego\'s expression made him instantly shut up; he didn\'t want to end up shoved into a toilet.

Everyone in the Gulf Group knew Nepomuceno\'s place in Abrego\'s heart.

There were even rumors that they weren\'t uncle and nephew, but father and son—though Nepomuceno was not without sons.

As for passing the position to a nephew?

There must be something fishy going on.

But Abrego\'s power within the Gulf Group was too deep, so no one dared to challenge him.

His word was law!

…

After Nepomuceno died, Victor received the "points reminder."

He was someone who held grudges.

If I can\'t get you, Abrego, do you think I can\'t take out the uncle you care about the most?

Since when did maintaining justice require being openly fair?

Victor was telling all drug traffickers that he played dirty!

You\'d either stay out of it or see who was more devious.

After all, he was alone.

And to prevent the Jail Guards\' families from being threatened, he also had "police apartments" arranged, ready to move their relatives over in the next couple of days.

"Design a gun emplacement here for me!"

On Guadalupe Island, Victor marked a spot on a hill 300 meters away from the dock and to the side of an AK-630M type 30mm 6-barrel naval gun.

The hill wasn\'t high, just about seventy meters, but standing there was enough to overlook half the island.

"Make it an open design; I\'ll place four anti-aircraft guns here. When people come from the sky, I\'ll shoot down planes; if they approach from the sea, I\'ll level them."

Victor learned his lesson the hard way.

If the Guatemalan Special Forces tried anything like before, he would ensure they were shot down at the seaside and fed to Jaws.

Speaking of which, Victor asked Casare to dump drugs into the sea before...

Recently, the behaviors of great white sharks in the area started to become strange.

But what did that have to do with Victor?

Do the animal protection groups have artillery?

"Boss, if the Mexican Government finds out... will they...," Casare mentioned cautiously by his side.

"Oh, right, the government," Victor said, as if he\'d just remembered, slapping his forehead.

Should he dismiss them so casually?

"Casare, we are the officials too. Once Alejandro arrives, we can even move the security department of Baja California State here,"

By then, he could...

He was a loyal subject, after all!

It was just about getting Alejandro to sign a name.

He had no soldiers or generals under him; this was protecting the leader.

Casare helplessly waved his hand, suddenly noticing an officer running toward them in the distance. He immediately perked up, "What\'s going on?"

"The new mayor from the Capital has arrived, and he brought a liaison officer from the Guatemalan army with him. They look furious, like they\'re about to..."

Victor\'s ears perked up too, and on hearing this, he laughed.

"They came as a team? Good, they can also leave as a team!"

...