Working as a police officer in Mexico Chapter 1345: 650: You Even Managed to Stay Connected?

Chapter 1345: Chapter 650: You Even Managed to Stay Connected?

People talked about his decisiveness, his strength, as if he had dragged Guzmán back from Hell with his own hands.

Days later, xico City International Airport was surrounded by an unprecedented clamor.

The gigantic military transport plane, under the focus of countless caras, taxied heavily on the runway and ca to a stop.

Before the cabin door was fully opened, a deafening roar hit like a wave.

Outside the security line, a throng of people stretched their necks, journalists jockeyed for the best positions with their caras, while flashes of light ford a blinding sea; excited chatter rged with praises for Victor and shouts from onlookers, forming a huge spiral of noise.

The cabin door slowly lowered, and the first to appear were fully ard xican soldiers, who quickly set up a cordon on both sides of the gangway.

Then, a stretcher was carefully carried down, the body on it tightly wrapped in bandages, revealing only patches of festering purple skin covered with tubes. Beside the stretcher walked several dical personnel in white coats and masks, monitoring the instrunts anxiously.

The crowd erupted with even greater volu, mixed with exclamations and indescribable excitent.

“Guzmán! Devil! Go to Hell!”

A man with a flushed face and bulging neck veins shouted hoarsely, his fists clenched, as if wanting to tear the man on the stretcher apart from a distance.

“Look at your downfall! The downfall of a mongrel drug lord!” So young n shouted after, voices filled with hatred and a satisfied delight.

“Oh my God…is he really alive? Like this?” soone nearby responded in a low voice: “Shh…look at the bandages, look at those tubes…who knows what they’ve been through…I heard the thods of xican soldiers are brutal, they probably beat him!”

“Hey! Move a bit! Let take a picture!” A young man holding a cara jumped excitedly, trying to look over soone’s shoulder in front, “A historic mont! This is a historic mont!” his companion shouted excitedly, aiming the cara at the stretcher, with a face full of curious excitent.

“Victor! Long live Victor!” A group of obvious supporters waved the xican flag and small portraits of Victor, chanting slogans in unison, their voices drowning out others.

“Justice shall prevail! Long live the Supre Leader!” Their faces radiated pure admiration and pride, as if Victor were a deity who personally captured the devil.

“Don’t squeeze! My shoes!”

“Damn! Those in front, squat down a bit!”

“Damn it, can’t see a thing!”

Complaints and curses coursed beneath the waves of excitent.

People pushed against each other like sardines, bodies leaning forward, necks craned, just to catch a glimpse of the true face of this drug lord who shocked the world through the gaps in the moving stretcher.

Caras greedily captured the mutilated body that symbolized “victory”.

Just as the stretcher was placed steadily on the airport ground, and dical personnel prepared to transfer it to a waiting ambulance, a passage suddenly opened up in front of the crowd.

Three figures in black judge robes, with solemn expressions, walked with large strides to the stretcher under the escort of bailiffs.

The leading Supre Court judge ignored the fervent crowd and the flashing caras. He directly unfolded a docunt stamped with a bright red national seal and read out with a voice that could pierce through the on-site noise:

“By the power vested by the Constitution and laws of the Republic of xico, the Supre Court of xico, after an ergency secret trial, hereby renders the final judgnt on Joaquín Guzmán Loera: Confird guilty of treason, murder, organizing a criminal group, drug smuggling, and cris against humanity, with conclusive evidence of extrely serious conduct and great social harm!”

The judge’s voice paused, and miraculously, the site fell silent, with only the sound of caras and the wind remaining.

Everyone held their breath.

“Sentenced to death! To be executed imdiately! Political rights revoked for life!” The final judgnt dropped like an ice pick, carrying an indisputable sense of finality.

The crowd completely exploded!

The globally broadcast signal transmitted this shockingly impactful scene to every corner of the world: the “legendary drug lord”, just brought back, didn’t even have ti to leave the airport runway before being sentenced to death by the Supre Court!

Is your connection still good?

After finishing reading, the judge nodded to the commander of the execution squad on standby nearby.

A team of executioners in black uniforms, masked, equipped with specialized gear, quickly stepped forward, taking the place of the dical staff and taking control of the stretcher.

The life-support equipnt was violently removed, and the stretcher was directly loaded onto an unmarked black van.

On the van, they administered adrenaline to him to maintain vital signs; he absolutely couldn’t die that easily.

Damn it…

Victor still plans to use him to gain so traction.

The prison van, escorted by the wails of sirens and more ard vehicles, ignored the dia’s questions and the crowd’s chaos, and roared out of the airport, heading straight for the execution ground secretly prepared on the outskirts of the city.

As if prepared, before people in front of the television could make a fuss, the global broadcast signal was forcibly switched to the interior of the execution ground.

A spacious, cold, cent space filled with high-intensity lights.

The cara focused on the central execution platform.

The bandaged human figure was securely fastened to a specially designed tal rack, head braced and immobile.

Knowing sothing, the person began to struggle, but it was…futile.

The execution commander, holding a high-speed rotating ring drill, firmly placed it at the center of Guzmán’s head under the gaze of the cara and all viewers.

“Ahhhhhh!!!!!!”

The piercing sound of drilling into bone was clearly transmitted through the microphone.

Soon, an accurate hole was opened, exposing the tissue beneath.

Subsequently, another executioner stepped forward with a sealed tal canister.

He opened the valve, and a silver-white, heavy liquid—rcury—shimred eerily under the lights, slowly being poured into the newly drilled skull cavity, the liquid flowing silently with deadly weight and toxicity.

The mont the global livestream’s image was cut, as the body on the stretcher began to convulse violently and unnaturally, it fell into total darkness, leaving countless viewers stunned and gazing at their own pale reflections on the screen.

The cutoff of the broadcast signal was not the actual end but the starting point of another, even crazier storm.

The bone-drilling sound penetrating to the bone marrow, those inhumane screams filled with utmost agony, the bizarre scene of deadly silver liquid being poured—it was like the most primal horror virus, instantly invading the neural extremities of billions of viewers worldwide.

In other words…damn it, what were they thinking!

It’s hard not to imagine too wildly.

Imdiately, studios, social networks, and street corners around the world exploded like water droplets thrown into hot oil!

“The xican authorities executed Guzmán in an extraordinarily…non-traditional manner, and the details of the process sparked serious concerns about procedural justice and humanitarianism.” —(CNN)

“The execution thod displayed by the Vicktor Governnt, with its cruelty and publicity, challenges the modern civilizational understanding and bottom line of death penalty execution.” —(The New York Tis)

“Disturbing footage before the livestream was cut off, and subsequent lack of transparency have heightened international concerns about the state of rule of law in xico.” —(Reuters)

“No matter how heinous Guzmán’s cris are, this thod of execution could constitute torture, violating international human rights conventions.” —(Human Rights Watch statent.)

Dostic dia in xico:

“The supre efficiency of ultimate judgnt: Guzmán’s submission showcases national strength.” —(Official mouthpiece newspaper, with a dignified portrait of Victor)

anwhile, there was far less control online, with many people starting to make crazy and senseless comnts:

“rcury execution?! Is Victor the devil? This is more brutal than the Middle Ages!”

“Damn it, is this justice? This is public execution! Guzmán deserved to die, but not like this!”

“See that? This is what happens when you betray big boss Victor! Shorty deserved it!”

“rcury lting his brain… Psss… Victor is really… ruthless…”

“Shut up! Unless you want to be treated the sa!”

Victor, seemingly understanding, quickly typed a few words:

“Those who sympathize with a drug trafficker should be treated as such.”

Instantly, the world fell into a stunned silence.

“””