Working as a police officer in Mexico
Chapter 821 - 446: Justice is Also a Business!

National Palace.

Victor adjusted his glasses, holding a pen, crossing out names on the list. As the room fell into silence, his phone rang, causing his hand to jolt and smear one of the names…

His brows furrowed slightly.

Forget it. It's already crossed out. Just kill them!

After all, everyone on this list was destined to die.

The phone wouldn't stop ringing. He picked it up.

"General, there's a call coming in from the United States. They want to speak with you."

"Put it through."

On the other end, the response came quickly. After two rings, a familiar and weary voice came through, "Victor, enough is enough."

The Emperor's hand paused, his brows knotting. "Mr. Rumsfeld, what kind of bullshit are you spouting now?"

This old man had meddled before. When Victor began targeting capitalists one by one, Rumsfeld's tone had been commanding, demanding that he stop these "unethical" assassinations.

The calls had been hung up on. Subsequent attempts were ignored as Victor redirected all such calls to the secretariat.

Hearing Rumsfeld now, the man couldn't help but vent, "Do you have any idea how much trouble you've caused me? You're challenging an entire class of people! They're pressuring me to declare war on you. You have no clue how many complications I've shielded you from."

"Well then, I suppose I owe you a thank you," Victor said with an edge of mockery in his voice. "Tell me, who's suggesting war? I'll help you shut them up."

The old man nearly choked on his rage.

"Do you not understand what I'm saying? You must, absolutely must, stop this, or else…"

"Or else what?"

Victor's tone turned icy. "Are you threatening me? From what position do you think you can threaten me?"

"Rumsfeld, let me tell you something: those dirty politicians and capitalists colluding together—do you actually think what they're doing is right?"

"Under the sun, there's no such thing as right, Victor. You know this. This kind of thing will never be eradicated. Even if you kill them all, new ones will take their place. They control the global economy. You're fighting the world itself! You're digging your own grave!"

"If the world is perpetually filthy, then it can perish along with us."

Rumsfeld's brows twitched uncontrollably, his nerves acting faster than a typewriter. As if grasping some realization, he gasped and, hearing the dead tone on the line, felt a sharp pain in his chest, his brows furrowed deeply.

The pressure on him was indeed immense…

The capitalists marked by King Yan had been scared to death. In a mere week, over forty globally influential elites had been killed...

On the internet, polls had even been created. Ten names would be listed, their misdeeds laid bare for all to see, leaving readers seething with rage, and then netizens were asked to vote on who should die first.

This had turned into a nationwide carnival game.

The American BBC brought on a legal expert who despairingly cried on-air, "This is a regression of human civilization. This challenges the very foundation of justice!"

After the broadcast ended, the expert was kidnapped. The next day, his mutilated corpse was found in front of a police station, a large poster nearby listing the evidence of his crimes.

This sent waves of terror through society. BBC tried to bring in others to speak out, but nobody dared utter a word.

The elites of Europe and America had been thoroughly traumatized by the savages. Desperate, they invested heavily in personal security, leading to skyrocketing prices for hired protection.

One billionaire spent tens of millions of US dollars to hire a team of retired Navy SEALs for protection—complete with legal firearms.

The entire social order wavered between frenetic celebration and unbearable tension.

Rumsfeld, driven to desperation, wanted Victor to stop. But Victor's parting words left him deeply unsettled…

Was Mexico conducting "crustal movement" experiments?

No, no, this must be investigated thoroughly!

Victor, having hung up the phone, dropped his smile. "Irrelevant excuses."

Even though Mexico and the Rumsfeld family were in a honeymoon period, this had to be done. He was determined to reshape the era. Although Mexico's international influence was rising, in North America, the United States remained the "beacon" for certain refugees.

Many still regarded him as the "Savior."

This brought them a constant flow of talent and labor. Mexican authorities had previously projected that after the Soviet Union's collapse, the United States' national strength would grow exponentially.

Victor's task was to tear down that façade before the Soviet Union fell!

You say that's paradise. I say it's hell—a capitalist hell where the impoverished wail in agony!

You claim their governance is harmonious. I'll show you just how deep the collusion between officials and merchants runs!

Smash the façade, trample on America's reputation, and ascend to the "throne," rebranding Mexico as a nation that "fights evil without hesitation."

Victor understood the power of image and influence. This "campaign" would only sacrifice a few individuals.

Those scum would have to die, then.

With the help of online campaigns, Mexico's reputation as a "nation of drug traffickers" was slowly transforming. More and more people were saying Victor's methods were purely to pursue peace.

Have you ever seen him oppress ordinary citizens?

Victor glanced at the time on the wall…

December 11, 1991.

The Soviet Union… didn't have much time left.

He took a deep breath, pressing a button on the phone. "Tell Casare to proceed with the next step and accelerate the plan."

"Understood." The other end was connected to the Department of Internal Affairs.

On December 12, an article titled "Is the President of the United States for the World or for Capital?" published by the Mexico News Agency sparked a massive uproar…