Working as a police officer in Mexico Chapter 770 - 770 426 Kuzamar Reservoir Swimming Champion!2

770: Chapter 426: Kuzamar Reservoir Swimming Champion!_2 770: Chapter 426: Kuzamar Reservoir Swimming Champion!_2 The eleven financial tycoons beaten to the brink of humiliation lifted their heads, only to see a fat man walk in.

Casare walked in slowly, with a smile on his face.

“Everyone, how’s the food treating you?”

“Ca… Casare!”

“What… what are you planning to do?

What is Victor trying to pull off?” The Ronimo Chain Supermarket CEO, wearing glasses, glared and shouted.

Fat Casare’s expression turned cold instantly.

He walked over and stomped on the man’s hand.

“Ah!!!!”

“When addressing the General, show so respect in your tone.

See what happens when people get rich?

They forget manners.

Beat him.”

Two n beside him, like wolves hunting prey, grabbed the CEO’s hair and dragged him to a corner to “serve him a special al.” His blood-curdling screams echoed through the entire room.

“Inviting all of you here today, there’s no hidden agenda.

I just need you to sign these docunts.” Casare pulled out a contract from the inner pocket of his suit and handed it over.

The CEO of PRGD Marine Industries, trembling, took the contract.

The group behind him leaned in to read it, and went wide-eyed upon seeing the first line.

Article one: I voluntarily transfer all my assets to the xican Governnt for managent.

What the hell!

This is robbery!

“No!

No way!

Absolutely no way!”

“Why are you doing this to us?

We already paid you!

Whenever you wanted money, we gave it to you!

Why take away our factories too?

This is sending us straight to death!”

The financial tycoons scread in protest, while the PRGD Marine Industries CEO grabbed the contract, tore it, shoved the pieces in his mouth, and desperately tried to swallow them.

Casare stood back, hands in his pockets, looking down at them.

“Do I really need to spell out what you’ve done?

Francisco Transport Mining Company leveraged its channels to help drug traffickers move product.

During the Popovich Governnt era, massive amounts of drugs were transported to the fronts.

Did you think we wouldn’t find out?”

“And Emile Houston Frozen Products Factory…”

The person he singled out shook in fear, lowering his head.

“You think I don’t know what’s hidden in your cold storage?

Three hundred corpses brought from Colombia are still in your headquarters’ large freezer now, aren’t they?

Where are you planning to send them?

Sell them to Aricans?”

“Heh~”

Casare chuckled.

“Having you sign these papers is being rciful.”

“Don’t disrespect courtesy and force to show cruelty!”

“Ah!!

Ah!!!” Two suddenly erupted screams were abruptly cut off, leaving everyone in the room terrified.

They turned their heads to see the Ronimo Chain Supermarket CEO lying lifeless on the floor.

“Officer, he’s dead!”

The remaining ten tycoons imdiately descended into chaos.

“Find a place to bury him.

Also, notify the military to arrest all high-level executives and family mbers of the Ronimo Chain Supermarket, and sentence them to death under the charge of collusion with drug traffickers.”

“Understood!”

Casare’s words hit everyone like a heavy blow.

So simply broke down and began crying.

General Victor clearly has the power to take what he wants, yet he insists on making you sign the contracts voluntarily.

This respect for the law is almost comparable to Old Deng.

Anyone who hears of it has no choice but to praise it, thumbs up.

“Co now, sign it.”

Casare smiled, but that smile resembled that of the grim King Yan beckoning for souls.

The ten n huddled together, sobbing uncontrollably.

At a platform near the Kuzamar Reservoir.

A dozen bodyguards stood vigilantly, scanning the surroundings, while snipers and Special Forces mbers were lying in wait on the mountain.

Victor, wearing a beach hat, sat quietly, holding a fishing rod.

Suddenly, the rod twitched, prompting him to pull hard.

But the fish was clearly a big one; it wouldn’t budge for the mont.

A nearby aide reflexively moved to assist.

Victor motioned to stop him.

“I’ll do this myself.”

He began struggling with the fish, engaging it in a prolonged test of endurance and cunning.

Sweat covered his face and brow as his breathing grew heavy after more than 20 minutes.

Fishing is truly a battle of wits and patience.

When you play weak, the fish does too.

Just when defeat seed near, the fish lost strength first and was finally yanked up.

One of his aides moved in with a landing net to haul it out.

“General, it’s a blue catfish.”

Three burly n helped pull the fish ashore.

Anyone who’s fished knows the thrashing force of a fish as it hits land—it can easily escape if not handled properly.

“Eighty pounds!”

The people around burst into applause.

The blue catfish, a species native to North Arica, can grow up to 68 kilograms at its peak weight.

An eighty-pound catch could only be described as monstrous.

Victor looked quite pleased.

He pulled out a cigarette from his pocket, lit it, and smiled.

Fishing certainly satisfies a person’s vanity to so extent.

“Wow, boss, you really caught this yourself?”

Casare appeared, giving a hearty thumbs-up, sparing no complints.

“You’re the best fisherman I’ve ever seen.”

“Haha, you’re buttering up again.”

“No, seriously, if I’m lying, may my ass rot.”

Victor pointed at him with a grin, handing him a cigarette, then offered one to an aide nearby.

“Here, have a smoke.”

Getting a smoke from the boss—it’s undeniably classy.

“So, how about those tycoons?

What’s the situation?” Victor passed over the lighter, and Casare quickly leaned in to ignite his cigarette.

After puffing a few tis to get the cigarette properly lit, he responded: “Boss, they crumbled easily.

Swing a baton, and they agreed to everything.

Though, we accidentally killed the Ronimo Chain Supermarket CEO.

I already had him buried.”

“Dead is dead; he wasn’t anything valuable anyway.

As long as they agreed, that’s what matters.”

“So, boss, should we let them go?”

Victor chuckled softly, gazing at the vast expanse of the reservoir.

An idea flashed through his mind.

“Give each of them a swimming ring, and have them swim across to the other side.

Let’s see who’s got the stamina.

If any die along the way, it’s not on us.”

Casare looked at the Kuzamar Reservoir, over five kiloters wide and long, and gulped.

What, did the boss think these folks were Special Forces warriors trained for amphibious operations?