Working as a police officer in Mexico-Chapter 796 - 435 The Cunning Villain’s Chessboard!_2
796: Chapter 435: The Cunning Villain’s Chessboard!_2
796 -435: The Cunning Villain’s Chessboard!_2
In Myanmar, Vietnam, and Thailand, Khun Sa has ruled for more than two decades; his fierce henchman has killed countless people.
But what stands out is his peculiar habit—he enjoys eating raw placentas, especially the kind freshly removed.
This means…
Pregnant women are directly gutted and ripped open!
The baby is discarded, and drugs are stuffed into the pregnant woman’s corpse, disguised under the pretense of a “ghost marriage” to smuggle across the border.
These methods—absolutely diabolical!
Maybe Khun Sa favored him precisely for this?
Sitting across Georgia, Zha Sa’s eyes scanned the surroundings like a venomous snake.
The Mexican softly knocked on the table.
“My proposal—what does General Khun Sa think of it?” ƒrēenovelkiss.com
“The Gulf Group can form a partnership with you.
In several states in the United States, our territory can be open to you, but we need to take a cut from the profits.
And in your outskirts, we’ll also move in—terms we discussed last time remain unchanged.”
“Your cut is too high.
After factoring in costs, transportation, and labor, there’s barely anything left for us to earn.” Zha Sa spoke like a lone wolf—sharp, aggressive, and unrefined, as if he hadn’t brushed his teeth in ages.
“The cut may be high, but so are the returns.
Canada has already sent word—their Congress is considering drug legalization.
Some countries in Europe are heading in that direction as well.
And the United States—the largest population of addicts worldwide.
Are you worried the product won’t sell?” Georgia grinned.
Actually, there were issues left unspoken…
For instance, internal problems within the Gulf Group were equally serious.
Otherwise, why would they be willing to let Golden Triangle operatives enter their territory?
He wanted to strike a business deal with Khun Sa.
Then, at the right time, sever ties with Arturo Desena.
He too aspired to become the boss, and frankly, couldn’t stomach the cop-turned-leader of Los Zetas.
If a shootout were to erupt, the Colombian drug trafficking groups might not necessarily stand by him.
Pablo Escobar, in particular, seemed to favor Arturo.
Escobar had publicly stated, “Arturo Desena reminds me of myself!”
Rumors even swirled that Pablo planned to adopt Arturo as his godson, further unsettling the already fretful Georgia.
Adopt him as your godson?
What about me?
I guess I’ll just be an egg…
Hence his plan to seek external reinforcement.
He was acutely aware that Pablo disliked him—why?
Because his father was Abrego!!!
The man who once waged bloody battles with Medellin cartel for turf in the United States—the man whose relative from Colombia was killed by the Gulf Group.
Were it not for Victor’s aggressive tactics now, he wouldn’t have allowed the Gulf Group to join the Latin American Association either.
Fate loves irony.
Zha Sa casually replied, seeing Georgia’s confidence.
After a brief contemplation, he nodded.
“Fine!
Then we’ll form an alliance.”
Georgia stood up contentedly, offering his hand.
And thus began a new era—a pact between North American drug lords and Golden Triangle’s kingpin.
“Go!
I’m in a celebratory mood today.
Make it so everyone’s expenses tonight are on me!
Whoever wins in the ring till the end—$1 million US dollars!!!”
The bodyguards promptly conveyed instructions to the venue staff.
A brawny man grabbed a microphone and made an announcement, instantly electrifying the crowd.
A million US dollars!
It’s a fortune in any era.
But for the Gulf Group, a company of expansive wealth—it’s mere pocket change.
“Don’t hold back.
Come on, let loose!” Georgia clamped a cigar between his teeth, stood up, and began dancing the “Uncle” dance, while women flocked around him…
Even the Myanmar Man wasn’t immune to the infectious “mood,” pulling someone urgently into the bathroom.
At 2:37 AM.
Georgia emerged, supported by bodyguards, slurring, “Drink!
If you don’t drink…
you’re disrespecting me!!”
Zha Sa was equally plastered.
Chinatown at this hour…
Still buzzing with energy.
But upon spotting drunkards, people instinctively moved aside.
Mainly because these folks didn’t seem easy to mess with.
As they exited Chinatown, a sudden horn blast caught their attention.
Both sides turned their heads to see a milk delivery truck barreling straight toward them.
You know…
Domino pieces?
And just like dominoes, the truck plowed through, sending a dozen bodies flying.
The poor soul in front had his head crushed under the tires—it burst instantly…
The windshield was smeared with blood.
Zha Sa dodged swiftly, but still ended up crumpled on the ground, his leg broken.
He clutched it, screaming in agony, while Georgia, shielded by his bodyguard, bore less impact yet was flung two meters away.
A car accident!
Tourists in Chinatown scattered in panic, but didn’t flee too far, keeping their eyes on the scene.
Voices calling out for Chinatown police began rising.
Three Thai police officers under a streetlamp heard the commotion and sprinted toward it—each of them with Chinese features…
But halfway there, the milk truck’s rear compartment swung open, and out jumped four or five masked men wielding Uzi submachine guns, firing wildly into the night sky.
“Holy shit!”
The officers abandoned their hats and bolted to safety.
On a meager salary of about 3,000 Thai Baht per month—which converts to $175.021 US dollars—it was dirt cheap!
With Mexican police’s pay bump, they now earned $500 monthly—27,000 to 30,000 Pesos.
Of course, exams to qualify had gotten tougher.
So when faced with heavily armed bandits, Thai cops’ first instinct was escape.
At that pay rate, who risks their lives?
The truck’s passenger door swung open, revealing Marcus Phoenix wearing a face mask.
He stepped out and emptied his clip mercilessly at the sprawled Myanmar men.
Quick, clean, no survivors…
When the muzzle pointed at Zha Sa, his pupils constricted.
Enduring the excruciating pain, he pleaded, “I’m Khun Sa’s subordinate—don’t kill me!
I’ll pay!”
