Working as a police officer in Mexico
Chapter 896 - 473: Do You Dare to Bet There are No Bullets in My Gun?!

Nuke Wall Street!

Fuck!

When Victor announced this, there was only one word to describe the mindset of the elites.

WTF!

Why are you attacking the United States, attacking Wall Street?

The United States is the United States; the elites are the elites. If you promise to protect our lives and property, we could even say, "Long live Victor."

We could even pledge allegiance to GC-ism!

In front of the American Bank on Wall Street, all sorts of people had gathered. They were dressed cleanly, looking like members of the middle class.

Commonly referred to as: folks with a bit of cash!

At this moment, their expressions were filled with rage. They shouted loudly, waving their deposit slips, demanding the bank open its doors.

They wanted to withdraw their money and then… skip town.

In other words, a bank run was happening!

The American Bank executives were in a panic. If this wasn't handled properly, it would tank the company's reputation, and naturally, deposit shares would plummet.

"Open the doors! Open the doors! Open the doors!"

"We want our money, fuck you, Damien White, open the doors!!"

People had already started picking up stones from who knows where, hurling them at the windows, but they were bulletproof…

No way they'd break through.

Meanwhile, Damien White, perched on the top floor of the American Bank building on Wall Street, was nearly losing his mind from stress.

He was 33 years old, the manager here. For someone of his age to reach this level, he obviously had talent, but now he was overwhelmed.

"Sir…" a subordinate rushed into the office.

"What's the situation? What did Citibank say?"

Damien White urgently asked.

The subordinate's expression was twisted with despair. He shook his head. "Citibank is being hit with a run too, and… even their armored cash trucks are being overrun. Violence has erupted there!"

"Thirty million US dollars inside were completely looted!"

Upon hearing that, Damien's legs wobbled slightly. Violence?

He knew exactly what that implied—Americans were opportunistic like that; they'd jump at any chance to wreak havoc…

Even Wall Street had its share of robbers.

"What about the police? What about the National Guard?!" Damien White shouted.

The subordinate was on the verge of tears…

"A police officer from the Wall Street precinct shot his gun, and then… got killed!"

Thugs!

Just two words smashed into Damien's mind, leaving his face pale as he sunk into his chair.

He might be a mover and shaker in finance, but what could he do when people started playing "physics?"

Finally…

The Yanks were tasting the cost of violence.

"Sir, please think of something fast. If this keeps going, we're all screwed."

"Screaming isn't going to solve anything! How the hell am I supposed to know what to do? Damn the U.S. Government, damn Victor! Damn the Mexicans!!"

Damien White raged helplessly.

Boom!

A sudden explosion rang out, causing the entire American Bank building to tremble slightly.

?!?!!?

"Manager, manager…" An employee burst in from outside, stumbling at the doorway, ending up on his knees. He clumsily crawled into the office, covered in tears and snot.

This scene...

Can you imagine seeing this from a financial elite?

"They blew it up… The bank's front doors were blown up! Those people behind the run got hold of explosives from who knows where and blasted open the doors," the employee stammered, his voice drenched in terror. "Hundreds are rushing in now!"

It's over!

His voice was loud enough for everyone in the office area to hear clearly. Their faces turned pale, and immediately…

They scattered to escape!

Who knew what those storming in might do? No way, no way, staying here wasn't an option.

Damien White's eyes lost all focus…

He kept muttering under his breath: "Why? Why are there bombs?"

Who knows?

Maybe…

They picked them up in the sewers or something?

Thanks be to nature, a gift from the wild. Americans are too rich; even their sewers might have explosives.

His loyal subordinates dragged Damien White by both arms to escape, proving their loyalty to him.

On the first and second floors below…

It was chaotic everywhere, smashed and looted beyond recognition. Even the money tree was fucking uprooted.

The only place untouched was the vault…

The thing was even built to withstand nuclear blasts, probably safe, right?

The riots were spreading, and the panic had spilled over into New York City. After all, if Victor really dropped the big one, no one would be safe!

Order was collapsing quickly.

And America's top brass? They didn't have time to deal with it either; they were drowning in their own mess.

Chief of Staff Angel Urenia hadn't had a sip of water all day, constantly bombarded by phone calls.

The Wall Street capitalists were piling on the pressure.

"Do you want to see Wall Street in ruins? Idiots! Ceasefire, I said ceasefire!!"

The voice on the line belonged to Jes Mellon, the representative of the Mellon Consortium, roaring furiously and without an ounce of decorum…

He was abroad on vacation when he heard Victor threatening the United States with negotiations or else nuking Wall Street. He freaked out completely, his face turned white, even his "dragon" wasn't standing strong...

He immediately made a call.

Riddling Angel Urenia with curses, he tore into him like a rabid dog, though Urenia didn't dare talk back. During Clinton's campaign, Mellon had contributed six million US dollars.

After what felt like several minutes of venting, Jes Mellon finally took a deep breath. "You need to understand, Angel, if there's no safe environment, capital will flee. If that happens, the dollar's hegemonic system will collapse like a house of cards. Do you get what I'm saying?"

Angel Urenia understood, of course!

Capital is the most selfish, most evil, most pragmatic force. Why has America developed so fast?

Apart from its established system, it's precisely because its military might provides global security for capital to expand and operate worldwide.