Working as a police officer in Mexico Chapter 1351: 653: Ancient Punishment! (Part 2)

Chapter 1351: Chapter 653: Ancient Punishnt! (Part 2)

The cold wind swept across his face, mixed with the scent of aviation kerosene.

Gilbert forced his eyes open, stung by the bright light.

In front of him was the tarmac of a small military airport, where a transport plane was parked.

A squad of soldiers stood beside the plane.

They were dressed in the dark combat uniforms of the xican Army Special Forces, well-equipped, standing tall, wearing dark masks showing only their emotionless eyes, all focused on Gilbert, who was being dragged out.

The leading officer slightly raised his chin. Two xican soldiers imdiately stepped forward, moving with precision and force, taking Gilbert’s place from the Italian soldiers. Their grip was stronger, more stable; Gilbert felt as if he was caught by two steel clamps.

He was roughly shoved forward, stumbling towards the transport plane adorned with the xican flag and military emblem.

“Mmm… mmm…” The gag in his mouth allowed only desperate whimpers to escape, as sweat mixed with tears of humiliation ran down, dripping onto the cold concrete of the tarmac.

He was shoved into the cabin, and the door slamd shut with a bang, cutting off any outside air and the last glimr of hope.

The roar of the engine was deafening. The plane began to taxi, accelerate, and finally broke free from gravity, carrying a heartbroken Gilbert toward the destination he feared the most—xico City.

At the sa ti, a sensational piece of news swept through the underworld and international dia like a hurricane, its impact even greater than the smoke of the battlefield:

One of the top leaders of the Cali Cartel, the long-wanted drug lord Gilbert, has been extradited to xico!

The xican Governnt spokesperson confird that judicial proceedings against Gilbert would comnce imdiately!

Even more chilling was that Casare, a core governnt figure, in a subsequent informal talk with the dia, disclosed with an almost festive ease, details that sent shivers down the spine:

“That filthy rat has finally fallen into our trap. He will pay the ultimate price for his heinous cris. To welco a brand-new year and give an unforgettable warning to all criminals against the xican people, we have decided to publicly execute Gilbert at the beginning of the new year.”

Casare paused for a mont: “As for the thod? The ancient East had a technique of cutting a person into thousands of pieces, called ‘lingchi.’ This word best expresses our determination to eradicate the tumor and purify the land so that the new year’s bell becos his life’s final countdown.”

The news shocked the world!

“Lingchi?!” Countless people who saw the news, whether ordinary citizens, mbers of law enforcent, or leaders of other criminal groups, were incredulous, their eyes widening with disbelief.

East University Netizens: ????? You gotta be kidding , am I still in the feudal era?

“Holy ****??? Is this even possible?!”

“Lingchi??? Casare, did your history lessons co from your gym teacher??? We’re not taking the bla for this!!”

“Although Gilbert is scum, publicly saying to use lingchi… This move is insane, insanely bold…”

“Wasn’t Gilbert in the hands of the Italian? Wasn’t Colonel Rossi having a nice chat with him? How did he suddenly get sold to xico?”

“What the hell are the Italians up to? Aren’t they the ones who care most about rules and ‘transactions’? This is sheer treachery!”

“The xicans are crazy! What era is this? Publicly announcing execution by lingchi? Aren’t they afraid of international condemnation and sanctions?”

“Condemnation? To xico, that’s nothing! They just want to use the most terrifying way as a serious warning! Gilbert ran into their hands, he’s completely done for…”

“The people of the Cali Cartel must be losing it, having one of their top leaders humiliated and executed like this…”

“The Italians have totally disgraced themselves this ti and thoroughly offended Gilbert… even though he’s already a dead man…”

Various discussions, speculations, shock, and fear spread like a plague.

And the thod of lingchi was no secret to ‘Gilbert.’

In Plateau Prison in xico City.

Gilbert’s mind was in chaos.

The chilling details of torture: electrified water tanks, skin-peeling hooks, machines that slowly crushed bones.

But it was: “Lingchi?!”

Thousands of cuts? In front of everyone?

He shivered violently, his body twitching uncontrollably.

Italians! Rossi! Sons of bitches! You took my money! Took my information! Those fake coffees and wines! That pretentious “courtesy”! It was all for this mont! To deliver intact to the xicans like sacrificial lambs!

“Mmm… mmm…” The suppressed sobbing sound, this drug lord who road Colombia, cried…

What’s this called?

This is called murdering a person in heart, I tell you the thod, it’s up to you to bear it or not!

Southeast Asia, deep within the Golden Triangle, a hidden camp.

Hot, humid, the air was so thick it seed like you could wring moisture out of it.

Mosquitoes buzzed under the dim lights, the makeshift barracks of wooden planks filled with the pungent sll of cheap tobacco, sweat, and jungle humus. This was the temporary hideout of Gilbert’s brother, Chepe Santa Cruz, far from the past glory and power center of the Cali Cartel, barely surviving in the chaotic area of the borders of Northern Myanmar, Laos, and Thailand.

An old satellite TV was the only connection here to the outside world.