Working as a police officer in Mexico
Chapter 827 - 448: Justice Never Dies!_2

"Gan! Gan!"

An elderly professor with silver hair rushed in front of them, reaching out his hand to stop them, "Students, you can't go! Your actions will bring shame to Cornell and ruin your own futures."

"Professor!"

"Is Cornell's motto to ignore injustice when you see it, to bow down to darkness?"

Forest Gan clenched his fists, tears streaming down, "What wrong has Mexico done, what wrong has Mr. Victor done? Those lofty elites, not one of them speaks up about this. He stood up alone—why did he stand up?"

"Because he did it for all of humanity!"

"Is school teaching us to bow our heads?!"

"Have all our years of education failed to teach us the essence of humanity, professor?"

The 80-year-old professor trembled under the questioning, and a teacher nearby rushed to steady him.

"A just cause will always be just!" Forest Gan shouted loudly.

He led his classmates out of the campus...

"Professor Kangbei, this… this…" The teachers nearby were at a loss.

"We should be proud of them."

Who would have thought, the elderly professor muttered with his head bowed, "If growing up means losing morality and passion, then what's the difference between us and soulless wax figures? Ivan, I am going to join them."

The teachers stared at the professor...

"If ideals are shattered, we'll be nothing but mud." The professor raised his head, his gaze bursting with passion well beyond his age, "If my students went, then it's my turn now."

"For ideals! For justice!!"

The old man raised his hand and, under the shocked gazes of the school staff, ran toward the "Blue Gold Society."

"Students, I've survived World War I, World War II, I've defeated the demons of lawlessness on the battlefield, today, let me lead you to defeat new demons."

The students cheered and shouted loudly.

The younger teachers felt their blood boiling.

Suddenly, Ivan was handed an item. He looked down—it was a piece of clothing. In front of him stood a young man, the youngest professor at Cornell University and a future Nobel Prize contender.

"Hold my coat for me; I'm going too." After saying this, he ran, holding something aloft.

He shouted at the top of his lungs.

"Justice forever!"

Ivan watched them, his mouth slightly open, and softly said, "Justice forever."

At the British Embassy in Washington.

A huge crowd was protesting.

They demanded the UK prosecute criminal royal family members.

But you know…

The probability of that happening is as likely as the Japanese royal family being human—virtually impossible.

The United Kingdom played dead, staying silent, waiting for the matter to fade away naturally.

No one noticed a young man in U.S. military uniform weaving through the crowd.

He walked toward a side entrance, bypassing the barricades, his actions catching some protesters' attention.

Back turned to the main gate, he pulled a bottle from his pocket and poured it over himself, holding a lighter in his right hand.

In the stunned gazes of the crowd, he ignited himself.

While engulfed in flames, he shouted, "Save Mexico, liberate the world!"

The blazing fire consumed him instantly.

Police arrived swiftly, firing three shots at him to bring him down amidst the flames.

The handling of this situation wasn't wrong...

After all, if it spread, no one could escape harm.

But at this very moment?...

A warrior sacrificed himself for justice, and instead of chasing criminals, the police were shooting good people?

Outrage erupted instantaneously.

"Kill them! Kill them!" Some enraged Americans tore down barricades and charged at the police, hurling water bottles and anything else at them.

Two police officers panicked…

Really panicked…

They shouted warnings, but it was useless, so they chose to open fire.

Bang!

A woman charging in the front was wounded and fell to the ground.

But this didn't calm the crowd; it ignited their anger further.

"Don't be afraid, they only have seven bullets, they can't kill us all, charge!"

Someone shouted from the crowd.

They surged toward the police, who, seeing the situation deteriorating, tried to flee, but were quickly caught.

The fitness of American cops…

Somewhat questionable.

Among the chasers were many Black individuals. Say what you like about them, but no one questions their running ability.

One older Black man delivered a flying kick, knocking a slower, overweight cop to the ground.

Then, the others swarmed in, punching and kicking!

A White man picked up a fallen handgun and fired at another officer still running.

Bang! Bang! Bang!

The cop collapsed instantly.

Reinforcements arrived just in time to witness the scene. Their eyes burned with rage as they moved to suppress the mob. Neither side knew who fired first—soon, gunfire erupted between the two groups.

Some Washington residents armed themselves and joined the protesters, while the National Guard was promptly deployed.

The situation escalated into outright combat?!

...

"We're witnessing Washington residents blocking streets with debris. Many citizens are armed with guns and… mortars???"

A female reporter on TV stared in bewilderment at the weapons being brought out.

A young man, about 18 years old, holding a mortar, noticed the camera and smiled, walking toward it.

"This is a Japan-made, dog bastard Type 97 90mm light mortar, captured by my grandfather during the war after killing 17 Japanese dogs."

"Today, I'm bringing it out to fight against new lawlessness!"

???

The old relic was brought into action.

The female reporter swallowed, tentatively asking, "Do you have shells?"

"Of course! My classmate's family owns a machine shop. We've prepared plenty. If those lapdogs dare attack, we'll fight them."

This young man… truly formidable.

The reporter licked her dry lips and hesitated, finally saying, "The Washington Government currently has no comment."

In an office...

Victor, Casare, Horatio Herbert Kitchener, Defense Minister Kennedy, Goodrian of the 5th Army, and Jeff Bennett of the Mexico Counterintelligence General Bureau sat smoking together.

When men gather, they smoke—not women.

"Years of mounting dissatisfaction with capitalism in the United States are finally exploding, especially after they ousted us from the United Nations," Casare said gravely, looking at the leader.

Victor squinted, "This shows that many can still discern right from wrong. Our next task is to recruit those who can be recruited, and strike those who must be struck."

"We must support individuals fighting for justice. Doesn't Hydra have numerous branches in the U.S.?"

"Can we find a way to transport weapons there?"

"Best to include landmines and RPGs."

Hearing this, Goodrian and the military figures exchanged glances.

"It's possible—we left over 200 channels after wiping out the drug traffickers. We can use those for transport."

Defense Minister Kennedy exhaled smoke and added, "The key is to keep this flame burning. Without sustained passion, few citizens will remain committed."

That was true enough.

Currently, armed resistance is purely driven by passion…

"Then incite racial division—doesn't the propaganda department and Internal Affairs Bureau have plans? Over the next two months, slowly release shocking news."

"Especially to the Black community—they're more easily mobilized," Goodrian remarked, raising an eyebrow.

Jeff Bennett of Mexico's Counterintelligence General Bureau chimed in, "We've already contacted Eldridge Cleaver, the former propaganda minister of the American Black Panther Party. He's a staunch advocate of 'violent armed' resistance against the U.S. Government."

"I think we can support his efforts to launch a Black movement within the United States."

The accompanying secretaries took notes diligently.

Victor listened attentively and nodded slightly, "Then send someone to contact them."

"Whatever they need—money, food, even armed advisors—we can provide."

It's time to support an internal guerrilla movement within the United States…

Just like in Northern Thailand.

Constant disruptions to keep them on their toes.

The United States has over 40 million Black citizens. The Black Panther Party, despite its fearsome tactics, was crushed during Hoover's tenure.

Many leaders were assassinated, imprisoned, or exiled. By 1982, with the closure of the Oakland Community School, the Black Panther Party officially disbanded.

After the death of its figurehead Newton in 1989, the movement essentially disappeared.

But as mentioned earlier, Eldridge Cleaver is still alive.

He has consistently advocated for Black autonomy in the media.

A potential "friend" for cooperation.