Working as a police officer in Mexico
Chapter 928 - 487: I, Victor, Am Gifted and Astute! _2

"The four individuals are handed over to the First Court of Mexico to be paraded through the streets and publicly shamed!"

"And sentenced to death!"

"Execution is immediate!"

"Give me a pack of cigarettes." Just then, two men walked in through the door, and one of them spoke.

The boss, who was eating, got up hurriedly, "What kind?"

"Camel."

"Thirty pesos."

The man handed over the money and, while tearing open the pack, glanced at the news playing on the TV. He pulled out a cigarette and passed it to the person next to him.

"I don't smoke."

"You guys working in this field don't smoke?"

The man chuckled and shook his head, "Staying calm doesn't require cigarettes to support it. On the contrary..."

He lowered his voice, "Maybe someone could even sneak poison into nicotine?"

The man holding the cigarette froze, "Augustine, that's not a funny joke."

The two men were, indeed, Angel Urenia and Augustine Przybylski.

They opted for a discreet approach, using the News Bureau's channels to cross over from the US-Mexico Border.

Low-profile and secure.

The CIA wasn't to be trifled with. If they took a commercial flight, just boarding might expose their movements. Even if the plane had hundreds of innocent passengers onboard, the CIA wouldn't hesitate to request a missile strike to take it down.

In this world, how many unexplained air disasters actually exist...

Shhh!

Angel Urenia, hearing this, suddenly lost much of his desire to smoke.

"In your country, corruption leads to public humiliation and execution? So strict?"

Augustine Przybylski glanced at the TV, "Didn't you see? He's involved in drug trafficking."

"In Mexico, if you use drugs, traffic drugs, or cultivate drug crops, there's no need for further consideration. Once caught, it's execution. That stuff doesn't just erode human willpower—it erodes the spirit and vitality of a nation. You've been to Mexico before, right? The difference between then and now is visible to the naked eye."

Angel Urenia gently nodded upon hearing this.

He had visited for tourism once. Back then, on the beaches of the Yucatan Peninsula, people blatantly peddled drugs from carts.

Even products like ice cream and popsicles had some questionable ingredients.

"Let's go. I've already reported to the General. We're meeting him at 2 PM."

Augustine checked his watch, "We've got 40 minutes left."

Angel nodded, and the two left the convenience store, getting into a Volkswagen parked outside, heading toward the National Palace.

Along the way, this "guest" from the United States kept carefully observing Mexico City.

Construction sites were everywhere, with roads being re-planned. The pedestrians on the streets walked calmly, adding a touch of serenity to the post-rain city.

When he last visited...

People in the streets seemed anxious, as if everyone dreaded the coming night. If your wallet was visible, it might attract a blade from a street thief who appeared out of nowhere.

Meanwhile, in the United States...

The populace had lost faith in the government. White supremacists attacked minority groups, the Black Panther Party had gone rogue in the forests waging guerrilla warfare, and astonishing organizations started emerging—like those involving sexual minorities. Damn...

A group of people reading the Bible were committing acts directly against God's commandments.

Indeed...

Faith is just another business.

God remains nothing more than a tool measured in money.

Angel Urenia couldn't shake the feeling that the United States was heading toward collapse.

Ten minutes later.

The car entered a restricted area. After several layers of security checks, they drove into the National Palace.

As Angel Urenia got out of the car, he realized he felt a little nervous.

"Feeling tense?" Augustine Przybylski turned his head and asked.

"A bit."

"Relax. The General doesn't eat people."

But the more someone said that, the more uneasy one felt...

The two walked into the building and saw a familiar figure at the stairs.

Casare Gonzalez was standing there. When he saw them, his face instantly lit up with smiles, and he walked over warmly to greet them.

"Good afternoon, Angel. It's great to see you again."

Before the puzzled American could react, Casare gave him a big hug.

"Uh..."

Angel's hands hung awkwardly, while Augustine Przybylski looked on with a cheerful grin.

"Come on, the General asked me to welcome you. He's been waiting in the office for a while now."

Casare spoke as he grabbed Angel's hand and led him into the elevator.

Despite the overwhelming enthusiasm, Angel couldn't ignore the fact that all this warmth was motivated by his usefulness.

Still...

He couldn't help but feel a touch of warmth in his heart. Following Casare upstairs, they were stopped by a guard intending to perform an inspection, but Casare waved his hand, "No need. He's the General's esteemed guest. The checks downstairs suffice."

The guard hesitated briefly before stepping aside.

"As you know, the General's position is critical to us. So..." Casare gave Angel an apologetic smile.

"I understand."

At the office door, Casare knocked softly. After hearing "Come in" from inside, he pushed the door open and entered.

"General, Mr. Angel is here."

Angel Urenia stepped forward. It was his first time meeting Victor, and at first glance, he seemed like such a plain man.

But upon a second look, his movements exuded a commanding presence!

A third look revealed an incredibly charming smile.

"I've heard of your name for quite some time, Mr. Angel Urenia—the lone talent from Clinton's original campaign team."

Victor smiled as he shook Angel's hand. "Since Casare returned from Cuba, he hasn't stopped talking about you. He believes you're an exceptionally capable diplomat, perhaps even more presidential than Clinton himself."

Fat Casare froze—did I ever say that?

But as Angel glanced toward him, he quickly beamed and nodded politely.

Yes, I said it!

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