The order appointing Victor as the Director of the Guadalupe Island Police Station ca down swiftly.
The efficiency of the xican bureaucracy was surprisingly fast at this ti.
Upon receiving his appointnt, Victor imdiately discovered that his Golden Finger staff of 40 had doubled to 80, it seed that with any promotion, the number doubled.
So, how many people would there be when serving as the head of security?
The thought was exhilarating.
But 80 people were definitely not enough, Victor began recruiting directly from within the jail guards!
Notices were plastered all over Plateau Prison in conspicuous places, and the broadcast looped the ssage of recruitnt for the EDM reserve team.
"A salary of 1,000 US dollars per month for those selected? Plus 25 days of annual leave and a year-end bonus of 2,000 US dollars?"
"Compensation for on-duty injuries varies by rank."
Many jail guards stood in front of the notices whispering to each other.
"Families of the fallen will be compensated with the equivalent of six years’ salary!"
Those who were good at math had already started calculating, "72,000 US dollars!"
Of course, that number is high!
In theory, the xican Governnt surely has an effective compensation system, but do you think those corrupt officials would pay up?
They would rather stuff these "blood buns" into their own luxurious houses.
Sooner or later, all these people would also be swept away!
Corrupt bureaucrats are even more despicable than drug traffickers!
Victor’s credibility within the prison wasn’t bad, at the very least the guards had received a fair share of sanitation fees, with ordinary jail guards earning an extra 200 Pesos each month.
Hearing now about this opportunity, they went in droves to sign up.
Casare was incredibly busy, but he didn’t know what the criteria were. Anyway, the boss glanced over, seemingly relying entirely on "first impressions".
Victor didn’t have high requirents for the jail guards. As long as they weren’t pawns implanted by so drug trafficker and didn’t have too close of an association with drug trafficking organizations.
Minor theft or a tattooed buttocks—none of those were important.
xico is just TMD without good people.
If you travel to xico, just rember one thing: don’t waste your money on insurance because you might not get compensated by the insurance company, life and death are predestined, and wealth is an illusion!
The EDM reserve recruited 220 mbers among the jail guards, and even when told they had no formal positions, classified as "Police Auxiliary Staff", they didn’t care.
Why bother with paltry governnt rations when there’s money to be made?
"Warden, how much is the salary for the official mbers of EDM?" asked a jail guard who had joined the reserve team, raising his hand curiously.
Casare glanced at Victor, who took a sip of water.
Getting older, it’s ti for so goji berries.
"The salary for EDM is 2,500 US dollars, with an end-of-year bonus of 5,000 US dollars. If you have children at ho, you can get an additional 500 US dollars per child every year for nutritional expenses, and if your parents are hospitalized, we will reimburse 50% of the costs. If you sacrifice your life!"
Victor’s gaze fell upon everyone below, their eyes shooting flas, "We will provide a one-ti compensation of 150,000 US dollars."
150,000 dollars!!!
The reserve team mbers were suddenly abuzz.
Victor remained calm because he would strictly control the number of official mbers. Although paying the mbers did incur living costs, who would the compensation for the deceased go to?
Wouldn’t it just be Uncle Victor moving money from one hand to the other?
"How can we join the official team?"
"Assessnt! EDM will implent a last place elimination system. Every year, we will select mbers from the reserve team for promotion. What we practice here is promotion for the capable and demotion for the incapable!"
"With , you don’t have to worry about being replaced. What you need to do is maintain social order, ensure civilian safety, and uphold police honor!"
Victor raised his hand, "Those drug lords who oppose us, good luck to them!"
The reserve team mbers cheered!
They were happy, but even happier were the prisoners in the jail.
Wooo wooo wooo...
"The Butcher" was finally leaving!
In the last few days, inmates operated the sewing machines at remarkably high speeds, and their mood at work also improved.
…
Guadalupe Island!
Located west of the Baja California Peninsula in xico.
About 400 kiloters southwest of Ensenada city, in the Pacific Ocean, it is a true island at sea.
This place is basically a "Place Beyond the Law," due to its special geographic location, the xican Military Police would need to land on the island first if they wanted to carry out any drug raids, right?
Once the drug traffickers control the ports, they’re basically done for.
Because of its proximity to the United States, it has given rise to a lot of criminal activities; Tijuana even has a transport line here.
At this mont, in the City Hall of Guadalupe Island.
The white walls were riddled with bullet holes, and the colors of burning were evident, with bodies everywhere, those of uniford guards and plain-clothed civilians.
Kneeling at the door were more than a dozen governnt workers, both n and won, shaking with fear, awaiting what they called "judgnt."
Surrounding them and holding guns were nurous drug traffickers, who watched them like wolves.
"Don’t, don’t kill ! I’ll leave Guadalupe Island right now," cried a middle-aged man, his voice loud with tears.
Tap tap tap~
A pair of boots ca into the middle-aged man’s view, and a mocking laugh sounded in his ears, "I’m sorry, Mr. Mayor, but your request is denied. Do you have any last words you would like to pass on?"
"Money! I’ll give you lots of money," the middle-aged man continued to cry out.
"Once we kill you, your money will be ours," the drug lord raised his gun to the man’s temple and pulled the trigger, biu~
The bullet went straight through his skull.
He wouldn’t have felt much pain, as it directly destroyed the brain nerves.
"Kill them all!"
No sooner had the drug lord finished speaking than the kneeling workers scread and tried to run, but were shot down one by one.
The air outside City Hall was steeped in the stench of fresh blood.
A trafficker took a spray can to the white wall at the entrance and wrote in Spanish, "Guadalupe Island, we are the order!"
Below it, he drew a skull with a dagger thrust through it, looking very cruel.
"¡Piratas! (Pirates!)"
Another trafficker held a video cara towards their leader, who was arrogantly flipping the bird, "We do not welco any governntal agencies to Guadalupe Island. We will defend the cleanliness of our island!"
"Especially Victor Carlos Vieri!"
"If he does not heed our warning, we will take righteous asures and toss him into the sea to feed Jaws, you hear ? Bastard!"
...
"Did you hear that? Bastard!"
The taunts of the drug trafficker ca from the TV set.
The office was eerily silent, so quiet that one could hear a pin drop.
Casare and the others glanced at Victor who was sitting down, noticing his calm face, but suddenly he laughed.
This is bad...
Victor laughed!
Who on earth would you provoke if not him?
"It seems that the people of Guadalupe Island are very welcoming of us." Victor pressed his cigarette butt into the ashtray, pointing at the drug trafficker on the TV, "I like his mouth."
"Today we finish the handover, and tomorrow we should probably go have a eting with them!"
…
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