"If we don't inspect ourselves, who knows what kind of information might leak out in the future? I'm even suspicious that Victor wanted to tell us about the Evil Dragon Plan long ago, but he's using this as an opportunity to maximize his benefits. If you were Norman Schwarzkopf, what would you do?"
His disciple was dumbfounded, imdiately putting himself in the perspective of the Aricans, stamring, "Victor is really dirty!"
"Everyone in politics is dirty!"
The master seed to think of sothing, "I heard that the most frequently thumbed-through book in his office is 'The Art of War by Sun Tzu'."
"But you can't just focus on a single piece of Sun Tzu forever," the disciple retorted, unable to resist laughing at his own joke.
"Don't overthink it, we just need to report the facts. There's soone above to review the news. Co on, I'll treat you to afternoon tea."
"Are xicans always this polite?"
"They have money!"
The journalists slowly dispersed, but they knew that a new storm and whirlpool were forming.
Back in the office, Victor stood by the window, quietly gazing out, "I feel the United States' dragon energy is shifting south."
Casare, standing behind, had no idea what dragon energy ant.
But still, he pretended to understand, nodding at the words of his leader.
"Call Cuauhtémoc, Kennedy, and Goebbels over. We need to discuss and refocus our efforts."
"Okay!"
...
Texas's independence is not just a matter for North Arica; it's a major global event!
Because it signifies many policies will need to change.
Adjustnts from military, political, to civil affairs are required.
Many people now have one question:
Will the United States truly disintegrate?
Especially the headlines by journalists, each one more startling than the last.
AFP: "A Sign of the Soviet? Chaos in the United States, Where to Go in the Future?"
Germany's 'World Newspaper' (Die Welt): "Is the United States truly heading towards decline?"
RIA Novosti: "Welco, United States!" (A taphor for joining in disintegration).
Xiangjiang dia: "A Super Earthquake in North Arica, 49 Crazy n Pursuing 1 Woman."
dellin, Colombia.
Behind the "Naples Manor"... a shrine?
Several monks were chanting, with many deity plaques placed in the altar.
Pablo kneeled on a cushion, looking solemn and mournful.
??
Has this guy embraced Buddhism?!
But indeed, only Buddhists dare to earn such money.
Many people also knelt at the entrance.
Including the third leader: Carlos Leder, who directly commands ard actions and assassinations, established a network of Caribbean island and jungle airports, pioneered aerial drug transportation, renowned for extre violence, devising nurous terrorist attacks against governnt officials.
Also present was Pablo's cousin and early collaborator: Gustavo Gaviria, responsible for expanding the cocaine sales network, playing a critical role particularly in the North Arican market.
And the bodyguard nicknad "Strong Sailor": John Jairo Villarquez, Pablo's personal guard and chief assassin.
Executing assassination missions, directly involved in violent actions targeting politicians, judges, journalists, reportedly orchestrating over 300 murders!
Today marks "100 Days Since the dellin Bombing," commorating the bombing victims including Pablo's beloved daughter and other relatives.
From morning to night, it's exhausting.
Cousin Gustavo Gaviria frowned his brows, murmuring softly, uncertain what he's saying as no sound was emitted, but definitely grumbling.
Night at nine-thirty.
The monks finally stopped chanting, a sowhat Buddha-like looking senior monk approached, clasped both hands together, and in fluent Spanish said, "Mr. Pablo, the ti for the ceremony has arrived."
Such language skills...
See, no wonder one can go out into the world and prosper.
Pablo nodded.
The senior monk led the group out slowly, nodding at others at the door.
Pablo stayed in the shrine for a while longer, supporting himself on the ground to stand.
His bodyguard John Jairo Villarquez and the third leader Carlos Leder quickly went to assist him on both sides.
The group exited the shrine, Pablo took a deep breath, "Arrange for so food, nothing too greasy."
The nearby bodyguard responded.
Upon returning to the living room from the back yard, Pablo sat on the sofa and casually asked, "Is there any news today?"
"Ochoa made a call, a partnership promised by the Brits suddenly contacted him indicating reconsideration," Carlos Leder said softly.
"Did they give a reason?" Pablo raised an eyebrow and asked.
"Ochoa incurred so expense to ask around; so believe that after Texas becos independent, the United States may not be as strong. Internally, there's a voice in the United Kingdom hoping to rebuild the glory of the empire over which the sun never sets."
????
The Brits think they're up to the task again!
Pablo, hearing this answer, fell silent.
But the more so, the greater the feeling of mounting pressure among those present.
Since his daughter was bombed to death, Pablo's emotions have been off; needing sleeping pills at night, accompanied by a doctor nearby to prevent overdosing leading to eternal slumber.
Yet sotis, in his sleep, he pulls a gun from under his pillow and directly shoots the doctor beside him.
Three have died.
Indeed, Pablo suddenly stood up, took the ashtray off the ground and hurled it at the television.
Boom—
The 40-inch color TV instantly shattered.
Cousin Gustavo Gaviria shivered violently.
"Bastards! Mongrels! Idiots!"
"Brits still want the empire over which the sun never sets? I see they're dreaming!"
"Still living in the 40s and 50s, now just a pile of dung hiding in the European continental shelf; without our assistance, they would never stand on the Latin Arican continent!"
Oh!
The tone of these words is truly arrogant; if they were really that formidable, why get bombed by xico?
Pablo's deanor was sowhat distorted; he wasn't on drugs, yet his mind was exceedingly violent.
Ah...
Also pitiful.
Blasted by Victor into this state, originally having 2300 family mbers, now barely resembling a tableful of people.
What is this called?
Grief-related psychological disorder.
"Tell the Brits, how could they drop our agreent as if it were nothing!"
"No one can toy with like that."
"If they don't keep cooperating with us, we'll blow up Elizabeth Tower (Big Ben), blow up Westminster Cathedral, drag the Queen out from Buckingham Palace and dismber her!"
The whole room was filled with his heart-wrenching screams.
Crazy...
Is he completely crazy?
More arrogant than those in Gambia.
The third leader Carlos Leder who's accompanied him through thick and thin watched Pablo, his face revealing sorrow.
Pablo's personal bodyguard John Jairo Villarquez had an expressionless face, seemingly born with the visage of a poker face.
He wouldn't smile, but his eyes had an inquietude signaling his heart was far from as composed as he acted.
While Cousin Gustavo Gaviria, standing lowly in the back, hid himself in a corner that was hard for the gaze to reach, tightly clenching his fists, mouth quivering lightly, this ti producing sound, albeit very softly.
The voice was very faint, possibly inaudible even to a mosquito.
"Cousin! I don't want to die, I don't want to die along with you, don't bla , don't bla !"
...
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