Working as a police officer in Mexico-Chapter 564 - 351: Really Want to Crack Someone’s Skull Open!_2

"And also, have someone check who exactly Hydra is," I just don't believe it; they're really Marvel superheroes, or even if they are mutants, I'll still have to shoot them a few times!

Pablo's face twitched, and he began to blink fiercely, looking a bit like he was having a convulsion. His nose was also vigorously twitching.

This is...

Robert was startled, just to see the other person looking distressed covering his face, "I have something urgent, you go... carry out my orders for retaliation."

After that, he rushed into the bedroom with a tinge of anxiety.

Robert watched the scene in shock.

He dealt with drugs; he naturally knew what his brother's expression just then meant.

He had actually become addicted to drugs!!!

You have to understand, Pablo never tolerated his men using drugs; he had even personally broken one of his cousin's legs for using drugs.

But now he himself had taken to drugs!

Robert's mouth was trembling.

Some familiar guests who saw him like this thought he was scared by his own brother and came over to calm him down.

"No... It's nothing, you guys go on playing." Robert glanced at the bedroom; he wanted to persuade, but then thought better of it, lest he get hit.

He lowered his head and moved through the crowd of guests, arranging the retaliation against Victor.

He didn't see that someone was watching him from behind.

This chapt𝙚r is updated by freeωebnovēl.c૦m.

In the "Puppet Government" of Southern Mexico, the mood was also dark.

Pepe Lusa was dead!

This was the Finance Minister, and most importantly, Pablo's cousin, definitely a high-ranking member of the Southern Drug Dealer Government.

He had been blown up...

It was quite embarrassing.

In Cancun City on the Yucatan Peninsula, where the Southern Drug Dealer Government was established.

They knew how to enjoy life.

Transportation here was also well-developed, with plenty of escape routes.

But at the moment in the city hall.

The nominal President Elvis Salinas was incredibly bored; he didn't have much power, merely a puppet.

He was doing just fine serving in the United States Marine Corps, about to be deployed to Japan where he could have enjoyed the company of Japanese women, but who knew he would end up being made the president here.

He yawned, watching the representatives buzzing with noise and feeling bored, thinking maybe it was better to have a brawl.

"Victor, what did Mr. Pablo say!" Suddenly, one of the bigwigs at the forefront of the table turned to ask Ethan Hunt seated below.

Everyone's gaze subconsciously turned to him.

As the representative of Medellin in the Southern Drug Dealer Alliance and in charge of the entire alliance's intelligence organization, his status was not low.

"Mr. Pablo is demanding that we launch a missile attack on Tijuana!"

Buzz~

Everyone started looking at each other.

Elvis Salinas, sitting at the head, was also startled; indeed, those Colombians, resorting to action at the drop of a hat.

"Is it those bastards from Northern Army who did it?" someone asked with a frown.

Ethan Hunt remained expressionless, shaking his head, "There's no evidence, but the boss means that we should vent on someone first anyway; otherwise, if we go out into the world, others will think we're easy to bully."

This remark seemed quite logical.

"Indeed, the Northern Army has become increasingly outrageous, killing many of us; we really should teach them a lesson."

"What if we invite retaliation? You know the Northern Army's bombers could be over our heads in half an hour!" someone voiced an opposing view.

"So we just act like turtles hiding in their shells? Then we might as well just disband now, everyone take the money and scram, and you can go back inside your wife's [censored]."

Bang!

The insulted drug trafficker slammed the table and stood up, with others also standing up to join in the shouting across from him.

The atmosphere was verging on erupting into violence, with entertainment value definitely surpassing South Korean politics.

Ethan Hunt just sat there; he didn't pick sides, nor did he need to, as Pablo's influence here was unmatched.

"Enough!" Finally, the bigwig who had asked the question earlier shouted angrily with a dark face.

The room reluctantly fell silent.

Everyone knew this bigwig.

One of the Three Greats of Mexico, the remnants of the Southern, a former imperial court subject, and the boss of Gulf Group, Abrego was now!

He wasn't a loser like those from Tijuana, nor shortsighted like those from Sinaloa; he had fought his way up, a tough guy; back when the Northern Army dominated the North, he had seen that Victor, nothing more than a government lapdog!

But he was not at all flustered, continued smoking and womanizing, and even as he watched his "brothers" being dismembered on TV inside a Humvee, he had never been afraid.

After all, the main business of Gulf Group was in the South.

Now he was the undisputed Big Drug Trafficker of Mexico, with all the others rising behind him being new faces.

In the drug trafficker scene, seniority wasn't the most respected, but the surviving former dignitaries still had to be respected.

Abrego now served as the Prime Minister of the Southern Drug Dealer's Cabinet!

Well...

It really was like playing house.

Abrego noticed that people gave him face when he spoke, his expression relaxed slightly, he pondered for a moment, and nodded, "Find a way to splatter the dirt on Victor, and then launch a missile counter-attack! And at such a time, we can completely break through diplomatic barriers; Haiti, Japan, and Italy all have people killed, we can apply for diplomatic relations, and if they recognize us, our legitimacy will go up a level."

Still have to rely on the older generation.

Abrego glanced at them, "We do need to express our anger; we are not just an ordinary drug dealing group anymore, but a government. You young people should not just think about fighting and killing; we need to use our brains."

Use our brains?

The people here have a collective education level of primary school graduation; all their heads together only weigh ten kilograms.