Working as a police officer in Mexico Chapter 1924: 817: The Great India Empire Games Succeeded! (

Capítulo 1924: Chapter 817: The Great India Empire Gas Succeeded! (2)

The conference room erupted. Athletes were all talking over each other, airing all the bizarre situations they’ve faced:

The route of the road cycling race had to pass through three large open-air vegetable markets and a livestock market. “The organizing committee said it’s to give athletes a taste of Indian culture!”

The beam at the won’s gymnastics venue had a noticeable dent, suspected to be termite-infested. “Staff said it’s ‘an ergonomic curve design’!”

Even the “safest” shooting event wasn’t spared—the electronic scoring system at the shooting range was capricious, often showing “misses turning into bullseyes,” as an Indian technician concluded after inspection: “It might be interference from the chanting at a nearby temple; athletes are advised to also chant to maintain frequency consistency during shooting.”

This communication eting ended on a sour note. India adamantly refused to cancel the competition, even threatening that “unilaterally quitting the race will affect future Commonwealth mbership and sports loan applications.” Many small country delegations were angry but remained silent.

But the major countries had had enough.

That evening, the delegation leaders of the United Kingdom, Australia, Canada, and New Zealand secretly t and agreed: Tomorrow morning’s n’s 10,000-ter final will be the “last straw.”

If the event organization and safety asures remain so absurd, the four countries will jointly announce a collective withdrawal and urge all mber countries to leave.

Unbeknownst to them, the Indian side activated a uniquely Indian “ultimate security plan” to ensure this spotlight event runs smoothly.

On the sa day, in xico City, at the Olympic Park’s main press center

The air here was fresh, the temperature constant, and the giant curved screen displayed split-screen real-ti footage and statistics from various venues. Staff wearing uniford outfits walked briskly and conversed in low voices; everything was as orderly as a precision Swiss clock.

Casare sat with his leg crossed at the VIP seat in the dia lounge, a glass of iced tequila soda in front of him, spitting into his phone: “…Yes! That ‘Ganges Iron Man Triathlon’ video! Increase its airplay on TV stations!”

Hanging up the phone, he turned and grinned at Bramo beside him: “Damn, Ah San really gifted us this ti. We don’t even need to blacken them; they’ve blackened themselves out into the Milky Way Galaxy. Now, at global sports forums, our xican Olympics is styled as ‘future technology, human peak,’ while Ah San’s side is ‘ultimate survival, hellish level.’ It’s hilarious.”

Bramo adjusted his glasses, which reflected fast-moving code: “Public opinion monitoring shows that India’s international image index dropped by 47 points in the last 72 hours. Gujral’s governnt’s dostic support rate has fallen below 20%. Six international sports organizations are reevaluating the possibility of hosting future events in India, and more importantly…”

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He pulled up a chart, “within the Commonwealth, demands for reform or even dissolution of the organization have risen by 300%. Many mber countries believe that continuing to bind with India is damaging their own international credibility.”

“Isn’t that just perfect?”

Casare took a sip of his drink, “The boss has always said that lousy Commonwealth is a coffin of the colonial era, right? Just let Ah San help loosen the nails. Once the coffin breaks apart, our ‘Pacific-Atlantic Cooperation Frawork’ can seamlessly take its place.”

Bramo nodded, “Europe’s feedback is also positive. France and Germany’s sports ministers privately expressed that, by comparison, xico’s event organizing ability is ‘astonishing and worthy of deep cooperation.’ Italy and Spain have shown keen interest in our smart venue managent system and have begun contacting our technology export departnt.”

“Business is coming in, isn’t it?”

Casare proudly swirled his glass, “That’s why they say, don’t fear God as an opponent, fear pigs as team mbers. Ah San’s divine pig of a move sent all opponents away. By the way, where’s the boss?”

“The Leader is in the ‘Phoenix Nest’ VIP box, accompanying several African heads of state to watch the athletics competition.”

Bramo glanced at the ti, “Also, Scotland’s McTavish sent a secret ssage; they’re very concerned about the ‘archery field threatens residents’ incident in Delhi this morning, believing it ‘fully demonstrates the dangers of lacking effective governance and modern planning,’ and hope to conduct specialized exchanges with us on ‘urban security and crisis managent’ topics.”

Casare chuckled, “This old guy learns quickly; he knows to use Ah San’s negative case to ask us for things. Alright, if he wants to learn, we’ll teach him. But the tuition… he’ll have to pay with that bit of North Sea oil.”

As they were speaking, a picture on the main screen caught Casare’s attention: it was the Delhi National Stadium, where the n’s 10,000-ter final was about to start.

The cara panned over the track, even after urgent repairs, obvious patch marks could still be seen. Sparse spectators sat in the stands, creating a bizarre atmosphere.

“Oh, Ah San’s long-distance race is about to start.” Casare got excited, “Let’s see what new tricks they can co up with today. I’m betting fifty cents, surely so athlete will run and step into a pit.”

Bramo helplessly shook his head, but pulled up multiple surveillance views of the venue.

Delhi National Stadium, n’s 10,000-ter final scene

Twenty-five long-distance runners from different countries were standing behind the starting line, all with solemn expressions, as if facing a formidable enemy. Not only do they need to confront distance and opponents, but also the “patchwork carpet” track beneath their feet, and Delhi’s poor air quality—PM2.5 levels were off the charts, and the air had a grayish-yellow tint, making breathing feel gritty.