Alejandro Constantinovich tiredly pushed open the door. He lived in a slum that reeked of filth and chaos.
His beard was scruffy, completely hiding the fact that this was a 21-year-old man.
As soon as he got home, three little girls rushed out, all quite young, looking emaciated. Due to nutritional problems, their hair was very sparse.
"Brother hit me today."
"Brother, brother, are you tired?"
"Brother, I'm hungry."
The children chattered. Constantinovich touched their heads. "I'll get you something to eat. You watch TV first."
He smiled bitterly, turned on the TV for the children, and walked into the kitchen.
His name revealed he wasn't pure Mexican. His father was Soviet. Back then the family was doing okay, with a farm in the countryside. But because the drug cartel wanted to plant drugs, they demanded his parents sell at an extremely low price.
But this was the foundation for the family's survival. His father was a hot-tempered Soviet who absolutely refused.
The drug dealers made him understand for the first time what it meant to be completely unreasonable.
They directly killed his father!
When his mother went to report to the police, she was beheaded by drug dealers in the police station.
Constantinovich could only earn money by doing odd jobs, but recently drug dealers caused trouble in Mexicali. The grain and oil shop where he worked was looted.
The drug dealers were hiring though.
300 pesos per day.
He'd seen neighbors go work for them, but in the end... they were gone.
Drug dealer money wasn't easy to earn.
Constantinovich opened the cupboard and saw two corn cobs inside. Fill their stomachs with this.
"I am Victor, head of Guadalupe Island Police Department."
"This is a drug dealer execution scene!"
Just then, a very robust male voice came from the TV, giving people a sense of trust.
Executing drug dealers?
Constantinovich raised an eyebrow, curiously walked to the doorway, and saw his three sisters sitting in a circle playing with blocks, while on TV the camera showed a tough-looking man with an open space behind him.
"We came to Mexicali to restore local public order. Any behavior daring to obstruct Mexican people's yearning for peaceful life is a provocation against us!"
"Here, drug dealers only get the death penalty! Those several are key members of the Sinaloa drug cartel. We will livestream their execution."
Victor moved aside halfway. The camera swept behind, showing a squad of officers escorting seven or eight drug dealers, then tying them together, hands and feet bound.
"We will use RPG! To send these drug dealers to heaven."
RPG!
Many civilians' eyes widened when they heard about executing drug dealers. Mexico had no death penalty - this didn't align with their values.
An officer shouldered a rocket launcher about a hundred meters from the drug dealers, aiming at them.
Constantinovich held his breath, hands clenched into fists, nails nearly embedding into flesh, watching the half-kneeling officer pull the trigger.
The shell flew over at visible speed.
Exploding directly among the drug dealers.
Boom!!!
Constantinovich even saw someone blown into the air, body disintegrating mid-flight. He actually felt extremely satisfied!
Drug dealers should die!
Those drug dealers weren't dead yet. Many lay on the ground moaning. Victor had people gather them together again.
Another shot!
Why should execution only happen once?
Not dead? Continue.
Had to send performance to Satan.
Boom!
With the second shell, even the toughest person would become a puzzle.
Many residents in front of TVs trembled seeing this scene, but some couldn't help shouting.
Victor pointed at the TV camera. "Don't be nervous. If anyone sells drugs, I'll find you, then crack open your skull and piss in it!"
"Also, Guadalupe Island Police Department has officially arrested Sinaloa cartel number two figure Zambada. On April 11, 1990, he will be executed at Mexicali Heroes Square by cannon, using caliber no less than 120mm. The entire process will be broadcast live."
"Guadalupe Island Police Department reminds you: don't deal drugs, be careful your whole family dies!"
"I'm always watching you."
Victor's gaze made Constantinovich on this side of the TV frightened, as if being stared at deadly by a wolf.
As if the next second the other could rush out and tear him apart.
But immediately Constantinovich became excited. His eyes shone, an idea bursting in his mind.
Follow Mr. Victor!
Kill all drug dealers!
Can get revenge!
Constantinovich had also served in the military, but he turned to look at his three sisters, eyes showing affection.
His gaze fell on the family photo placed most prominently beside the TV.
A tall man holding his wife, himself standing in military uniform, while three sisters curiously hugged his legs.
Back then...
His family was still very happy.
"Drug dealers all deserve to die!" Constantinovich looked up, murmuring.
...
"Drug dealers all deserve to die!"
At a park on Guadalupe Island, a large screen was installed here.
Victor did this to conveniently let people hear and see whenever he spoke. He was a bit showy.
Watching those drug dealers blown into the sky.
Santos in the crowd raised his hand and shouted loudly. Little friends beside him also cheered.
All of Guadalupe Island was shouting.
Days without drug dealers made you realize how good it could be.
You didn't have to worry about bumping into someone on the road and being terrified, afraid they'd pull out a gun and shoot you. You didn't have to worry about being caught in gunfire while eating at a restaurant outside.
You also didn't have to fear that your parents who chatted with you today would be forever separated tomorrow.
Peace and tranquility were most precious.
"When will police academy start? I can't wait to join." Good brother Campos scratched his head. "But I'm afraid my knowledge score isn't enough!"
Other little friends nearby also sighed hearing this.
Santos raised his hand. "Don't worry, come find me. I'll tutor you, then we'll all enter police academy together!"
"Really?"
"Thank you, Santos."
Hearing his friends' thanks, Santos straightened his cap, smiling happily. "Follow Mr. Victor, eliminate drug dealers!"
His friends also shouted along.
Santos was a famous "Victor believer" who had gathered many companions to advance on the correct path.
Looking at these spirited children, nearby adults all smiled.
Their own childhoods were filled with violence, intimidation, and drugs. Many had never been to school, but they didn't want the next generation to be the same.
Mr. Victor was Mexico's hero!
...
Execution by cannon!
120mm caliber.
Watching Victor's words on TV, even someone as fierce as Guzmán felt his heart tremble.
Wouldn't that mean the air would be full of Zambada?
"What are you doing! Get out of the way!"
"You lackey of Guzmán, move, I want to see Guzmán!"
"Who the hell are you talking to!"
Noise erupted at the door. Guzmán's face darkened. He got up to open the door and saw two groups confronting each other outside.
One group was the Beltrán Leyva brothers.
The other was Zambada's two brothers.
Both sides had even drawn guns.
"What are you doing!" Guzmán rebuked. "We're all on the same side. Do you want to fight each other?"
"Guzmán, I'll ask you one question. What about my brother? Are you saving him or not!" A man with a very large face opposite - Zambada's second brother, nicknamed "Sinaloa Leopard": Ismael Zambada Vicks.
His temper was quite volatile. He'd locked horns with Guzmán many times.
"Be polite, idiot!" Arturo, eldest of the four brothers, pointed at him.
Ismael glared, not backing down at all.
Veins bulged at Guzmán's temples, his face dark. "Save! Of course save. Zambada is my brother. Am I the kind of person who abandons brothers?"
Not saving would really cause internal strife.
"But we can't do it alone. Contact Juárez and Gulf Cartel. To save Zambada we definitely need their help."
Ismael pointed at Guzmán. "You better be telling the truth, or I'll take our people and leave Sinaloa!"
He left with his people.
"Cousin, let me take people to kill him!" Arturo said dully.
"Kill kill kill, all you know is killing! Use your brain." Guzmán cursed, frowning. "You kill him, tomorrow we'll have to disband!"
He smoked hard, throwing the cigarette butt directly on the ground, looking fierce.
"Victor won't let us live, so we won't let him succeed either!"
"Let's contact Abrego and Aguilar first and fight Victor!"
Guzmán's eyes flickered.
But just fighting to the death didn't seem like his style.
He planned...
To surrender to the Mexican government.
(End of Chapter)
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