Colombia. Cali Cartel!
After the signal was cut, a long silence enveloped the room.
No angry roars, no vows of revenge, just suffocating quiet.
A core member finally broke the silence, his voice as dry as sandpaper, "Better to end it ourselves than fall into their hands."
"Victor doesn't want a trial, he wants a performance. We're the actors in the next show," another chimed in, their tone filled with deep helplessness.
Just then, there was a rapid knock on the door, and a subordinate burst in, pale-faced: "Boss! Emergency news! The Italians... and the people they've rallied are coming at us again! They're less than fifty kilometers away!"
"What?!" The room was instantly set ablaze.
The drug lords, who had just been immersed in despair, leapt up like cornered beasts whose tails had been stepped on.
"Damn those Italian bastards!"
"Do they really think we're pushovers?!"
"Damn it, let's fight them! Even if we die, we'll take some down with us!"
