Working as a police officer in Mexico Chapter 1574: 729: Money, Money, Money! It's All the Work of

Capítulo 1574: Chapter 729: Money, Money, Money! It’s All the Work of Money!

In a spacious office in the capital of the Illinois Republic, Springfield.

Bramo had a half-burnt cigarette dangling from his mouth, his eyes a bit weary.

He didn’t use to smoke…

But the pressure was imnse.

Everyone says the Emperor has it good, but who knows the pressure the Emperor is under? As soon as he opens his eyes, he’s afraid of being shot.

Bramo sat in a chair watching TV. On the screen, Little Bush had just finished a speech on Parliant Hill and was being interviewed by reporters in front of the Capitol Hill steps:

“My mission, as pursued by my father and countless predecessors, is to restore the glory and unity of Arica!!! This is not only my duty, but also the historical responsibility entrusted to us by this era!”

Little Bush spoke into the cara, his voice broadcast through the microphone to all corners, “The return of Arkansas, Mississippi, and South Dakota proves the vitality of the Federation, and also proves that the longing for unity in the hearts of most Aricans has not extinguished! I hope that those states still wandering on the crossroads can find their way back, see where their true interests lie, and return to the embrace of the United States of Arica. This is not a threat, it is an appeal for our shared future!”

He spread his arms wide toward the cara, “Co on, brothers, we should be together.”

“Bang!”

Bramo grabbed the remote control on the table, fiercely pressed the off button, and the screen went black, reflecting his gloomy and twisted face. He spat heavily, dropping the cigarette butt from his mouth onto the carpet, crushing it with his foot, as if crushing the pompous President in the screen.

“Fuck him!”

Bramo cursed under his breath, “Rebuild glory? Find their way? Easier said than done! This little bastard, just like his father, full of words of righteousness and full of calculations!”

He suddenly stood up from the chair, pacing irritably around the office, feeling an unprecedented sense of urgency and discomfort.

Yes, discomfort!

Watching Little Bush striking poses as the savior of Arica, calling for the ‘lost lambs’ to return, while he himself had beco a ‘separatist’ that needed ‘correcting’ according to the other’s words, this role reversal made him feel uneasy, like wearing an ill-fitting bodysuit.

He stopped and turned his gaze toward another person who had been quietly sitting on the sofa in the office—Ludwig Becker!

“General Becker!”

Bramo’s voice carried an uncontrollable anxiety, “Did you see? Hear that? Little Bush isn’t probing, he’s fucking starting to act, throwing money and shouting slogans, using a combination of carrots and sticks! Those spineless ones in Arkansas knelt just like that. If we don’t act and continue to watch him pull the divided states back one by one, it won’t be long before we are surrounded on all sides, besieged by a reunited federal force. Will we have a way out then?!”

He stared intently at Becker.

Ludwig Becker slowly raised his head, slightly adjusted his sitting posture, and began to reply, “Bramo, I understand your feelings. Little Bush’s actions were indeed quicker and more decisive than expected. However, please remain calm.”

“As of now, I have not received any latest specific instructions from xico on this matter. But please rest assured that xico and Leader Victor will not abandon our partnerships in Illinois. Our support for you is unwavering.”

“xico cannot lose Illinois, just as Arica cannot lose Texas.”

????

Bramo stared at him.

Because Texas is currently firmly controlled by xico and it’s an administrative province under Victor!!!

Ludwig Becker slipped up, and it slipped from habit.

He quickly glossed over it, directly emphasizing, “Anyway, believe , the pressure we are facing is also the pressure that Leader Victor is concerned about. Necessary support and counterasures will definitely co. What we need are patience and preparation.”

Bramo noticed Becker’s montary stumble and embarrassnt, feeling even more indignant inside.

“Patience? Preparation?”

Bramo laughed bitterly, pointing at the now-black television, “Becker, Little Bush doesn’t plan on giving us much ti for patience and preparation! He’s now ard with cash and guns, part soothing, part threatening. We must take action, even if it’s just a symbolic counterattack, and imdiately make a gesture; otherwise, the people’s hearts will scatter. Illinois cannot and will not be the next to be ‘pacified’!”

His entire family is dead, fighting under the banner of resisting tyranny. Anyone can surrender, but he can’t.

If he surrenders, there’s no halfway loss.

Little Bush can split you in half directly.

Ludwig Becker quietly watched Bramo for a few seconds, his previously calm face lting a little. He sighed softly, stood up, walked to the liquor cabinet, poured two glasses of whiskey, and handed one to Bramo.

“Calm down and have a drink, Bramo.”

Becker’s voice softened substantially, “I told you, xico will not abandon Illinois.”

After taking a sip of his own drink, he continued, “You’re worrying too much about Little Bush’s so-called ‘unity offensive.’ Yes, he’s spent money to buy back a few impoverished states plagued by internal conflicts, which looks impressive, like placing a few pieces back on the chessboard. But what about the board itself? The Arican war machine has long been rusted, with parts scattered everywhere.”