Arturo Desena hesitated for a moment, then nodded, "No problem, Asian, yes, guaranteed pure, alright, the drugs are not an issue, I'll deliver them to you."
"Right now it's hard to get small shipments."
"No, no, no, Mr. Pizza, don't worry, here's the thing, wait for a week, I'll get you 100, yes! Certainly, these missiles..."
When Arturo Desena heard the confirmation from the other party, his face lit up, "Good, thank you! Thank you, sir."
After the other party hung up, he hung up too.
Just now, he saw flattery written on the face of a lawless drug trafficker.
Arturo Desena leaned back and lit a cigarette for himself.
His eyes were deep, and after finishing the cigarette, he straightened up, pressed the phone, "Call Javier in."
Soon, a black man with dreadlocks walked in, a tattoo on his face resembling... an eye.
"Boss."
