The headline on the front page was glaring: "The Killing Logic of the xican 'Tyrant': Using Bullets to Cover Up Incompetency in Governance." The article quoted "anonymous diplomatic sources," claiming that "in xico's war on drugs, there was a widespread killing of civilians, and those so-called 'drug trafficker corpses' were thirty percent ordinary citizens resisting the governnt."
The newspaper also specifically included a photo of Joachim lambasting European representatives at the United Nations eting, with a sharp caption: "This politician who can even utter 'double standards' has no regard for the right to life."
In the garden of the National Palace of xico.
Victor stopped walking, his fingertips gently brushing past the neatly trimd holly leaves beside him, "Autumn is coming again!"
Casare followed behind him, responding softly, hesitating for a mont before speaking:
"Boss, the public opinion in Europe has already completely skewed."
Casare handed over the newspaper, his fingertip pointing at the picture of "Honest Armando" in the Paris Tis, "Our intelligence departnt found out that the 'exclusive leads' provided to these dia are from a few organizations with the label of 'human rights groups,' all funded by Europe's old financial groups, the sa ones we dismantled the South Arican drug distribution network from in the Red Shoes incident."
Victor took the newspaper, his eyes sweeping over those glaring headlines, yet a faint smile suddenly appeared at the corner of his mouth.
He looked up at the bronze statue deep in the garden, that of Hidalgo, a hero of the xican War of Independence.
"Casare, don't you feel the current situation is very similar to the alignnts before World War I?"
There was no trace of anxiety in his voice, "On one side are the old forces clinging to vested interests, on the other is the new force trying to break the old order. However, back then it was about colonies, now it's about a new world order. Right or wrong? For them, it's never been important."
Casare was stunned, not understanding why he suddenly brought this up.
"How many people's financial paths did we cut off during the Red Shoes incident?"
Victor continued walking forward, his pace leisurely, "Those European financial groups, propped up by laundering money from South Arican drugs to sustain their luxury empires; certain politicians in the United States, collecting political contributions from drug traffickers to climb up. They initially wanted to wait for us to make mistakes, but now seeing Brazil's strong anti-drug stance gaining montum, knowing that waiting any longer would sever their roots, naturally, they have to make a desperate gamble."
He stopped, turning to look at Casare, "As for the manipulation of public opinion, it's nothing but their old trick. During World War I, Allied countries labeled the Central Powers as 'enemies of civilization,' in World War II the Axis Powers claid they were saving the world, essentially all to drape a moral veneer over their interests. Now they're packaging drug traffickers as 'poor souls,' calling us tyrants, what's different from back then?"
"But now the direction of international opinion is indeed unfavorable to us,"
Casare couldn't help but worry, "President of Brazil called yesterday, saying the opposition at ho has already started to use European public opinion to exert pressure, demanding to suspend military actions. If the EU really passes a humanitarian resolution, I'm afraid any ans will be forced onto Latin Arica."
"Stuck?"
Victor chuckled lightly, pulling a cigar from his pocket, and Casare imdiately stepped forward to light it for him.
Amidst the swirling smoke, his gaze grew increasingly firm: "They forgot that xico could drive drug traffickers out of the country two or three years ago, not relying on anyone else's consent!"
He took a puff of the cigar, slowly exhaling smoke rings, with a tone that carried a hint of jest, yet concealed with undeniable confidence:
"Besides, you should be thankful it's France and Italy jumping up now, you wouldn't want to be teammates with those who only know how to surrender, would you?"
Casare, seeing Victor's calm deanor, slowly felt his anxiety dissipating.
"So boss, what should we do next?"
"Public opinion, this thing, cos quickly and goes quickly. Since they like making up stories, we'll just throw the truth in their faces, have the intelligence departnt organize the evidence of collusion between those financial groups and drug traffickers, and hand it over to reliable dia, counter public opinion with public opinion!"
He paused, then added: "Also, tell the President of Brazil our arms support will arrive on ti, and send a Special Forces unit over to help them train on how to identify the human shield tactics of drug traffickers, as for the EU's resolution... it's useless!"
"Casare, rember, the anti-drug war has never been one that can be won by compromise. Back then we could withstand the pressure to drive the drug traffickers out of xico, and now we can withstand public opinion to fight this battle to the end. Those Europe and Arica strongn want to drag us down with public opinion? They haven't figured it out yet, the thing xicans fear least is threats from others."
At this mont, footsteps were heard from afar, the Presidential Palace's secretary hurried over, holding an urgent telegraph in hand.
"Mr. President," the secretary handed over the telegraph, face slightly solemn, "A batch of arms funded by European financial groups for drug traffickers was found in the Brazilian Rosinia Slum, including anti-tank missiles made in France. Additionally, the border patrol intercepted a batch of drugs attempting to be transported to xico, the boss behind it is a retired officer of the CIA."
"Also, the situation on the ground in the United States has beco sowhat abnormal."
"The skirmish has started!"
Victor took the telegraph, quickly scanning it, his smile broadening. He handed the telegraph over to Casare.
Casare looked at the contents of the telegraph, "I'll arrange to make sure this evidence spreads worldwide."
"Go."
Victor waved his hand, watching Casare's hurried departure, then turned to gaze at the statue of Hidalgo deep in the garden again.
Justice prevails!
...
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