```
Plateau Prison. In the once familiar office.
Victor saw the familiar arrangents.
Even the location of the ashtray had not been changed.
Harris, from behind, "Boss, after you left the prison, I’ve had people clean this office regularly, and none of the ornants have been moved."
Casare squinted his eyes, with a twitch at the corner of his eye.
What a charming and vile bitch!
Very good, very good!
Is this what you’re doing, huh? By the ti I return to Baja California, I’ll push for the establishnt of a "Drug Enforcent Hero - Victor" exhibition hall, where the heads, limbs, and drugs of traffickers will all be displayed for you.
Let’s see who licks more comfortably!
Trying to compete with , Casare? You’re still green.
Victor was pleased; after all, people always like to reminisce about the past, just like how a man who frequents prostitutes always rembers how virile he was when he was younger.
"You’ve been thoughtful." Victor smiled as he touched the desk, moving the ashtray to the side, and changed the topic, "I’m thinking of transferring you to a new departnt, are you willing?"
Harris was taken aback, imdiately realizing that Victor planned to promote him, which thrilled him after nearly a decade in the prison.
He had seen Victor’s drug enforcent scenes on television.
He was eager to charge into the fray and be active on the front lines of the battlefield against drugs; a real man should dare to fight.
"Willing!"
"The President plans to establish the xican Drug Enforcent Agency, specializing in nationwide drug clearance operations and coordinating drug enforcent work with other countries. I will serve as the first director, and we need a deputy director. I plan for you to take that role, mainly working out of xico City."
This was the first slice of the cake Victor got!
Finally, he could make a na for himself in other states around.
Harris raised his eyebrows; moving from a prison warden to the national deputy head was not rely like a rocket promotion—it was more like a nuclear promotion.
"What do you need to do, boss!" He clenched his fists, his voice changing slightly as he tried to suppress the excitent in his chest.
Victor’s gaze swept towards the door. Casare imdiately understood, gestured with his eyes to Jason Bourne to keep watch at the door, and also went out, closing the door behind him, leaving just the two of them in the room.
"Help keep an eye on Cuauhtémoc."
Harris’s heart tightened as he looked at his boss, Victor, whose expression seed genuine, betraying no deception. Could it be... he had just taken down one, and now he was ready for another?
Was the boss planning to go solo?
"What are you thinking about wildly?" Victor noticed Harris’s expression and waved his hand irritably, "Do I look like the kind of person to kill the donkey once it’s done grinding the mill?"
"It’s just a preventative asure. Sotis, when a person’s position changes, they forget their original intentions. Do you understand what I an?"
How many young people have pointed at that dragon, saying that one day they will kill it to protect the people, but once they kill the dragon and get praised by the public and corrupted by material wealth, they themselves beco the evil dragon.
This kind of thing is not uncommon.
Victor originally planned to replace Cuauhtémoc’s secretary, but that action would not be beneficial and would only destroy their honeymoon period.
So he could only plant a flag in xico City, which also provided the agents from the xico International News Departnt with a cover for their identity.
Victor laughed and patted Harris’s shoulder, "Better safe than sorry. Don’t overthink it."
But how could Harris not overthink it?
If one day, Cuauhtémoc really betrayed the Gulf Group, what then?
He didn’t ask that question but looked up at his boss’s profile, where the resolute expression seed to have already provided the answer.
Mr. Cuauhtémoc!
Please don’t make a mistake.
...
June 26, 1990!
International Day Against Drug Abuse and Illicit Trafficking.
It was also the day the xican Drug Enforcent Agency was established.
On a small lawn outside the National Palace, dozens of dia outlets were present, including a good number from the United States.
Dressed in a suit, Victor took the appointnt docunt from Cuauhtémoc’s hands.
Director of the xican Drug Enforcent Agency, head of the Baja California Security Departnt, expert on xican economic issues, expert on xican drug enforcent issues, expert on the rights of xican drug traffickers...
A total of nearly 10 bloody titles!
And the number of muscle points on Golden Finger skyrocketed from 400 to 2800 people overnight, clearly indicating many of those titles held actual power and value.
Adding to yesterday’s trafficker killing at Plateau Prison, points surged to 1.33 billion.
Ti to muscle up once back in Baja California!
Victor, brimming with spring vitality, stood in front of the microphone, hands on either side of the podium, smiling as the cara lights incessantly flashed.
"It is a great honor to serve as the first director of the xican Drug Enforcent Agency (AMD). I will fulfill my duties during my tenure, closely coordinate with drug enforcent organizations worldwide, and bring peace to all civilians living under the threat and intimidation of drug traffickers."
"I will devote myself to the war against xican drug traffickers. On this occasion, we announce a bounty of 40 million US dollars for Aguilar of the Juarez Drug Trafficking Group, Abrego of the Gulf Group, and Guzman of the Sinaloa Group!"
"Those who can provide accurate locations and clues will be protected by the police in terms of personal information, and rewards ranging from 200,000 to 2 million US dollars will be granted for effectively providing trafficker activity details."
Victor looked up at the caras, "I ask the people of xico to trust that my colleagues and I will ensure your safety, and I also advise drug traffickers to lay down their weapons and surrender. Otherwise, when the war starts, we will not accept any prisoners!"
"Thank you!"
"Now, we will proceed with the question session." said an official from the news departnt.
Victor pointed to a woman who looked "large," "Miss, please start."
The woman stood up after placing her bag on the seat, "Hello, Mr. Victor, I am a reporter from the Los Angeles Tis. I would like to ask, when you said that once the war starts, no prisoners will be accepted, does this an you will kill all of them?"
The question was highly targeted.
The reporters also lifted their heads, listening attentively.
"Correct." Victor nodded directly, "Once the war starts, there are no prisoners!"
The news officer beside him swallowed nervously, tiptoeing anxiously.
Is it really okay to say that?
```
The Arican newspapers are just a pile of shit, and they’re gonna stink you up when the ti cos.
The reporters were a bit taken aback, but then they got excited because that was a great scoop!
"The xican Drug Enforcent Agency’s Victor announces a massacre of drug traffickers!"
"xico’s new tyrant? Hero? Victor!"
Sotis the dia is the mouthpiece of justice, but it’s also a tool of persecution. But does Victor care?
"Sir, do you realize the impact your statent will have on society?" the female reporter asked again.
"Of course, I just want to warn everyone, please don’t dabble in drugs. My eyes and my officers will be watching you. Spread my words, I will drown the drug traffickers in the toilet, so they better bring their respirators."
He was the epito of tough!
He couldn’t say a word of compromise in front of the cara.
Just then, Casare ran onto the stage and whispered sothing in Victor’s ear. Victor frowned, but then put on a smile.
"Sir, what did Mr. Casare tell you? Is there sothing you cannot say?"
"It’s good news. He told that he saw a bunch of rats holding a eting in my house, and my cat was just licking its paws."
...
In a mansion of the Aragon family in xico City.
Seven or eight financial magnates who were at the banquet sat imrsed in gloom.
Sitting on the sofa was none other than Jonathan Aragon, a friend of Cuauhtémoc.
He wore gold-rimd glasses and had a Spanish copy of "in Kampf" resting on his knee. After whispering to a subordinate, he nodded, closed the book, tossed it aside, and clapped his hands. "Gentlen, Carlos Stam is still in the hospital recuperating, so he cannot join our eting."
The financial magnates all perked up.
"Today we are here for one purpose, to discuss how to contain Victor, who is increasingly acting like a dictator. This will prevent Cuauhtémoc from understanding the reality of xico and will take away our right to speak, which is a blow to us."
Jonathan Aragon, a tycoon, naturally despised dictators. He liked to use money to support puppets and then increase his family’s influence in xico.
When he chose to cooperate with Cuauhtémoc, he did so with this thought in mind.
The face of a capitalist is ugly.
But Victor’s fist was hard. At the banquet, he directly killed the new spokesperson for the Salinas Family, then confiscated their assets and declared to the public that the Salinas Family had betrayed xico, imprisoning the entire family.
That speed and efficiency were astounding.
Jonathan Aragon didn’t like having an "Emperor Eritus" above him.
So he convened so financial bigwigs to discuss the big picture.
Best if they could throw Victor out!
Just as he was going to continue sharing his thoughts, a ruckus at the door erupted followed by a loud bang!
A black armored vehicle crashed in from outside, pushing a pile of garbage into the hall, startling the seated magnates to their feet.
A dozen fully ard n descended from the armored vehicle.
Jonathan Aragon’s eyes twitched; he recognized the leader, a man who used to follow Victor. What was his na... Jason Bourne?!
Who was that muscular hunk beside him?
"What are you discussing? Gentlen, may we listen in?" Jason Bourne asked flatly.
Having seen the world, Jonathan Aragon quickly regained his composure and retorted with a scowl, "Mr. Jason Bourne! Why have you broken into my ho? And damaged it? Don’t we, the citizens, have a right to privacy?!"
"Are you discussing how to move drugs?" Jason Bourne continued as if to himself.
"????"
This made Jonathan Aragon’s eyebrows tighten—a bad feeling suddenly surging forth, "What are you talking about? How could there possibly be drugs here?"
Jason Bourne nodded and then glanced at a colleague who pulled a suitcase from the armored vehicle, opened it, and spilled the carefully packed contents.
"Boss! There are drugs!"
Jonathan Aragon gasped in shock. This... this was so treacherous?
"Slander! This is slander!"
"This is officer Jonathan Pannier from the U.S. DEA Drug Enforcent Administration."
The muscle-bound man narrowed his eyes, "You might want to consider how to explain where these drugs ca from!"
Victor and DEA mixed together?! Jonathan Aragon’s eyes widened, and just as he was about to speak, he saw an officer holding an Ultimax machine gun open fire!
"They’re resisting!" Jason Bourne said plainly.
Jonathan Pannier’s eyelid twitched, but he remained silent as he watched the magnates get shot dead, blood flowing like a river!
Jonathan Aragon stared, still in so disbelief!
"Previously agreed, the industries in their hands, Mr. Victor won’t want them. He will ensure that Arican assets in xico are safe. The personal cash of the financial magnates will all go to the DEA, as long as you can get it from the banks. But the houses and cars will belong to the xican governnt. You personally bought a house in San Francisco under your grandmother’s na."
"Here is half a million dollars!" Jason Bourne handed him a black box.
"He doesn’t want any voice opposing drug enforcent in xico. He hopes the new spokespeople will support drug prohibition!"
Why would Jonathan Pannier help without a personal gain?
The DEA needs to eat too.
Most importantly... there really were drugs found, yes, the bunch that tumbled from the suitcase onto the floor.
As long as you don’t touch Arican assets, killing their puppets just ans they’ll send a few more in their place.
A powerful Director versus a few local xican tycoons, who is more important?
Victor is actively getting close to the DEA, to the U.S. governnt; anyone with eyes can see who is more important.
In Latin Arica, this place...
Who can last longer?
Military leaders!
Those with guns and n live more comfortably.
...
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