Working as a police officer in Mexico Chapter 1341: 649: I Have Big Brother Victor! (Part 2)

Chapter 1341: Chapter 649: I Have Big Brother Victor! (Part 2)

Oh, just crap.

Those marchers really don’t respect the rules; they’re throwing crap everywhere, goddamn it.

You thought you were throwing a star, huh.

anwhile, in the distant National Palace in xico City, Victor had just finished his breakfast, looking at the newspaper in his hand.

Victor put down the British newspaper:

“Casare, did you see this? Full of major flaws, serious delays, regrets… Typical British tone, turning a disaster into a technical error, like they just spilled a cup of tea.”

His voice was very calm.

“Their deep-seated arrogance swallows humiliation and becos hypocrisy.”

Victor’s gaze swept over the statent, “Acknowledging the xican Commander’s exemplary model? That’s harder to take than insults. These shit-stirrers publicly concede defeat but harbor ill intentions, won’t let it go easily, and will only engage in more covert maneuvers.”

Casare leaned forward slightly: “Boss, since they still have energy to play word gas, why don’t we give them sothing more practical to worry about? Make them understand that the current rules aren’t written unilaterally by Downing Street.”

Victor raised his eyes: “Be specific.”

Casare’s voice was steady: “Ireland!”

“The Northern Ireland peace process is the UK’s most sensitive nerve. Sinn Féin’s political funds are very tight, and so of the more radical factions are struggling for activity funds.”

He paused: “We have untraceable channels, through rational business investnts or cultural sponsorships of charitable foundations, to funnel money to certain organizations in Dublin or Belfast. Where this money eventually goes, for what cause, that’s beyond our control; freedom fighters need a voice, and raising it is expensive.”

The aning was clear: funding Irish republican forces, lighting a fire in Britain’s backyard.

!!!!!

This really provokes the British’s nerves!

He looked at Casare and couldn’t help laughing, “You’re filled with wicked ideas.”

“This isn’t wicked, boss, this is loyalty to xico and to you!” Fat Casare patted his stomach, grinning.

“Since they like stirring up storms, let this stick gather so troubles they can’t shake off, do it cleanly, Casare, make the British understand that playing technical error gas in front of xico cos with a price; their regrets need real trouble to soothe.”

“Alright, boss!” Casare nodded, “They will receive a response that cannot be posted on their official website, guaranteed to be more impressive than their scheduled releases.”

Victor turned to more pressing battlefield issues: “Since the other party apologized, the subsequent actions in Colombia, on the surface, need to be led and wrapped up by us, but military action is only one ans; economic and social stability is required. Have Armando Benedetto issue a ssage, the ti has co.”

Casare nodded vigorously.

Colombia, Presidential Palace:

Almost simultaneously with Victor’s order, the signal of Colombian national television was cut into a live broadcast from the Presidential Palace.

President Armando Benedetto sat upright behind his desk, the background a massive Colombian flag. His expression was serious, eyes sharp, jumping directly to the the without any opening pleasantries:

“People of Colombia!”

“We are undergoing a joint surgical strike against the nation’s cancer; the process is full of challenges, but the results prove the value of our determination and ability. To consolidate these hard-won peace fruits and to build a fairer and stronger Colombia, my governnt today announces a major economic recovery plan.”

“We have reached agreents with our steadfast partners—the xican Empire Bank and the Human Union Organization—and Colombia will receive a total of 1200 billion US Dollars in interest-free loans.”

“This huge amount of money will be used for:”

“First, large-scale infrastructure construction: repairing roads, bridges, schools, and hospitals damaged by breakthroughs; building new transportation networks, connecting remote areas; upgrading our ports and energy facilities.”

“Second, direct living subsidies and job training for the poorest citizens, ensuring no one is left behind in this national transformation.”

“However, national rebuilding requires fair sharing.” Armando’s voice suddenly turned cold, with an undeniable firmness, “This investnt and future prosperity cannot be shouldered solely by ordinary citizens, therefore, my governnt will imdiately push for legislation to increase taxes on the wealthy and large farms.”

He leaned slightly forward, gaze fixed on the cara as though locking on each potential opponent through the screen:

“I know, this policy will touch so people’s interests. I understand that so people are accustod to getting sothing for nothing, accustod to extracting wealth from the land and people’s suffering; I can even imagine, soone might be plotting resistance at this very mont.”

Armando’s mouth curved into a smile:

“To that, I have only one thing to say:”

“Co on, give it a try.”

“My army, along with countless Colombians supporting change and longing for justice, are ready; any forces attempting to obstruct national rejuvenation or disrupt social justice will be crushed without rcy.”

“Colombia’s future, acquired through our collective effort, will also be protected by us together; rebuilding begins now!”

The screen freezes on Armando’s determined face, then the signal is cut off.

Armando Benedetto’s televised speech was like dropping another shock bomb on the scorched earth Colombia had just experienced in the recent conflict.