Working as a police officer in Mexico
Chapter 913 - 480: Century-Long Plan!

"Ideals, huh!"

"What a f***ing joke..."

Donald sat in his office, eyes far away in thought. He used to be just a boy once, unafraid to stand up for injustices in the world.

But...

The world has never been black or white—it's an exquisitely crafted shade of gray.

By the time he realized he couldn't fight against the so-called "rules," he was already old. That youthful impulsiveness was long gone, replaced with thoughts of promotions and wealth!

The older you get, the clearer you see things. After all, who else could live as recklessly as Victor?

And with an X-bomb in his hand, no less!

Laws are meant to make people sit and listen, but force is what makes them sit calmly and really pay attention while you explain those laws.

And clearly...

Victor made it happen.

Many even refer to him as "the most powerful thirty-year-old on the planet!"

"Hope you get everything you want."

The old defense minister didn't know why he'd pray for the "enemy." Maybe... he just thought the United States was drowning in a stinking mess!

The American people are remarkably tolerant. During the mask mandate period, Uncle Sam and Rabbit bickered endlessly, one accusing the other of irresponsibility, the other accusing the first of being undemocratic.

Then both sides took a closer look...

Oh, wow. Turns out governments can centralize power *this* much.

The other side looked, and said, "What the hell, Nima! Your nation's people have lost millions dead, yet they can endure this?"

"Clearly, you've never tasted the iron fist of 'Princes and nobles, are they born to rule?'"

"Defense Minister, Defense Minister..."

There was a sudden urgent knocking at the door.

Donald sat upright, rubbing his face. "Come in."

"Defense Minister!"

"A small military base in Alabama was attacked, leaving 19 U.S. soldiers dead, and 21 captured!" The secretary spoke, stumbling over the words.

Donald frowned. "Who did it?"

"The Black Panther Party!"

"F***!"

The old defense minister swore under his breath upon hearing the name. His teeth ached just thinking about it. Of course, he knew exactly who had been supporting this Black Panther Party.

The Human Progress and Innovation Convention Organization granted them the status of a "Non-State Observer," essentially letting everyone know, "Yes, we are backing them."

Look at that...

Brazen and out in the open, distinct from the sneaky moves usually pulled by the mongrels of Europe and America.

We're direct about it: "I'm dismantling you from the inside!"

You don't like it?

Come hit me then!

"Call a meeting! Everyone, in every jurisdiction, video conference in half an hour—no excuses for absence!"

Donald issued his orders with fierce resolve. He was going to crush the Black Panther Party!

Never would he allow them to grow rampant within the United States!

"Yes, sir!"

The secretary turned to leave but was called back by Donald. The old man hesitated for a moment. "Also, issue an official protest against Mexico's decision to include the Black Panther Party in the Human Progress and Innovation Convention Organization. Demand that they stop interfering in U.S. domestic affairs."

???

The secretary froze. The concept of the U.S. protesting foreign meddling in its domestic affairs—those words individually made sense, but strung together, they left him utterly perplexed.

"Did I stutter?" Donald scowled at the secretary's blank expression, knocking firmly on his desk.

Jolted back to reality, the secretary nodded frantically. "I'll get right on it."

Donald narrowed his eyes, his fingers tapping rhythmically, as if lost in thought about something unknown.

The protest letter reached Victor's office almost immediately.

He glanced at it casually and tossed it into the trash bin without hesitation.

"This thing's too rough to even wipe your ass with. Ignore it. We're just using their own methods to deal with them, but the Yanks can't handle it."

"What f***ing double standards!"

Casare chuckled. "Boss, that Black Panther leader Eldridge Cleaver is no joke. Word is the Black Panther Party grew by over 1,200 members in the last month, and their forces are still expanding."

"Too slow. A spark can start a prairie fire, but the fire needs to be one that burns San Francisco, not fireworks. Tell him to be bolder. Don't worry about weapons or personnel training. Bring in as many recruits as possible; send them to Mexico for training. Also, help them establish proper welfare systems. A revolution requires people to be paid—after all, we can't expect everyone to be Che Guevara."

"Got it, boss. I've already got someone on it. We've even set up a specialized 'Black Panther Party Support Center' within the logistics department. They're coordinating with intelligence services. If Eldridge Cleaver still lets the Americans crush him quickly, then all we can say is—America was never meant for communism!"

Look at that...

Now *that* is professionalism.

"I trust your work." Victor smiled approvingly and turned his gaze to President Cuauhtémoc. "The American reparations have arrived. We need to steadily integrate and open up welfare programs. Cuba will send a team of 200 medical experts to Mexico for a one-year stay. Over the next year, we must implement medical security."

"Doctors are severely lacking in rural areas, towns, and even cities. The average number of doctors per 1,000 people is roughly 1.1—far behind developed nations. Cuba has about 70 per 1,000 people—70 times our rate. In the face of large-scale infectious diseases, we might not have the capability to respond effectively. Moreover..."

Cuauhtémoc narrowed his eyes, scanning the high-ranking officials in the meeting room. "Our neighbor is a country that enjoys conducting human experiments. If they were to develop a virus engineered specifically for Mexico, how prepared are we to handle that risk?"

"Our public health security risk index is essentially zero."

"Isn't this a bit alarmist..." someone mumbled from the crowd.

Victor shot a glance at the grumbling deputy minister, who immediately shrank back in his seat.

Victor could sense that after forcing the United States into peace talks—no, after outright defeating them—many here had started feeling overly confident.

That once-taut string of tension had loosened, as if... their mission was complete.

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