Chapter 42: Starving Port (4)

Chapter 42: Starving Port (4)

“Mexico is a beautiful country. But it can never be a good country, Presidente.”

His mustache, which had forcefully put on a cheerful demeanor, sighed gloomily while drying off.

“The land may have been blessed by God, but the people who live on that land have been corrupted for a long time. They curse the shitheads, but starting from the president, who is a shithead himself, to the government that values pride more than the lives of its people, the cartels that are polluting the blessed land with blood and drugs, the incompetent army that can’t do anything about a single cartel, and the countless fatherless bastards all around...”The origin of this chapter's debut can be traced to N0v3l--B1n.

His comments about the government’s pride were probably related to the Sinaloa Cartel’s humanitarian activities. When the most powerful cartel in Mexico started humanitarian efforts in their stronghold in the northwest and in some major contested areas, President Obrador, whose dignity was hurt, expressed his displeasure by saying, “Stop that.”

‘To be honest, I understand. More people die from drugs and shootings than by helping them.’

The president’s demand meant that stopping inter-organization warfare and other criminal activities would be more helpful to more people than such hypocrisy. But from the perspective of the poor people receiving help, it sounded like “Don’t help the poor.” The chubby-faced Perucho was now voicing the anger of these weaker individuals.

The top cartel was always the role model for all the other cartels. Competitors who saw “Sinaloa” building a solid kingdom in the northwest each took similar actions in their own territories, whether big or small. It was clear that the federal government’s authority had dropped in every village where such support took place.

The cartels engaged in humanitarian activities invariably emphasized that they were performing the “government’s role.”

“Look at what Guadalajara has become. Mexico is a land of hopeless sinners. Here in Sodom and Gomorrah, Maria can’t even dream. She would be lucky to avoid becoming a vulgar unmarried mother or not turning into a drug addict, and it would be another stroke of luck if she lived through her baptism. Presidente, I want to give my daughter a better future.”

It was a heartfelt father’s sentiment, but it had nothing to do with me. And it was absurd that he was angry at the injustice of the country while being in a position where he probably accepted bribes. Half of the fat attached to the boat was likely earned through corruption. Based on what I’d seen over the past few days of him using my name, he was also ultimately a Mexican government official. He was one of those common weaklings who confuse weakness with goodness.

But it was a problem that the actor who should fulfill his role was in such a dark mood. Wasn’t it worth filling up the watch? I layered my indifference with feigned sympathy.

“So, you wanted to involve me in this?”

“Yes. Korea is indeed a good country, but I heard there are many heretics, non-believers, and bald heretics there, Presidente. You are a rare faithful person who keeps premarital chastity and has an excellent character, so I thought there was nothing more to see. I apologize if I made you uncomfortable...”

“Apologies accepted, let’s do it this way.”

“Yes?”

“As soon as I finish my business in this city, I’ll look into a job for Maria. Whether it’s in Korea or the United States, I’ll make sure she can settle wherever she wants. You won’t doubt a job that I guarantee, right?”

“Oh, you have my gratitude! If you do that for us, we will never forget your kindness!”

“And here’s some advice: a child’s love life is not something parents should interfere with lightly. It’s something they should leave to their own choices. If Maria is a qualified person, God will help her, just as He brought you to me. Isn’t that right?”

“Yes, indeed!”

It was just because I didn’t want him to pester me that I said that, but a politician was a politician. Perucho nodded desperately as if he wouldn’t let go of the lifeline he had just caught.

I had no intention of actually looking for a job. Wherever I placed Maria, they would probably think that the company had a connection with “Huan,” who should disappear from this city for good as long as I was sane enough not to leave unnecessary traces.

I patted the now cheerful Perucho on the shoulder.

“I swear by the Almighty God that this promise will be kept as long as I, Huan, am alive. So let’s discuss the details later.”

“Thank you, Presidente!”

“But how many tens past the hour is it now? Surprisingly, the traffic seems a bit congested. It would be inconvenient if we’re late for Mass.”

“All right, Chellino. Is there something you need from me?”

I inquired, and the mayor laughed, responding positively.

“Yes, indeed, I do. Well, not exactly something I need, but someone I’d like to introduce.”

Who was this person on the sixth rung? A federal government official, a prominent member of the ruling party, or perhaps a local cartel lord? Either way, they were welcome. While inflating people’s hopes with promises of prosperity, it would also make it easier to fulfill my role as “Huan” disappearing from this city.

“That sounds promising. If you’re introducing them to me, I’m sure they’re important connections.”

“Oh, haha! You’re being so kind with your words. Well then, if you’re agreeable, let’s go see them right away.”

“Right now?”

“If it’s convenient for you. One of them is the type who needs to get things done immediately or else he can’t relax, while the other has come from a far place and took the time out of his busy schedule to attend. Perhaps Don Huan has other urgent matters?”

“No, not at all. Businessmen can’t afford to miss opportunities, and if you’re introducing someone, Mayor, then I’d be more than willing to adjust my schedule to meet them. I’m already looking forward to meeting these individuals.”

“Haha! Great, great. You have an excellent attitude. Let’s leave the question of who they are until we meet them in person and savor the joy of that moment.”

“Chellino” Salazar Baquillano led me to his mansion, “Casa Sueños Del Mar,” located in the northern suburb of Bucerías. To get there, we had to drive 40 minutes north from the Our Lady of Guadalupe Cathedral, where we attended Mass.

At this point, one should know that this mansion, with its rather extravagant name, was situated right in front of a seemingly endless stretch of beach, miles and miles long. Even if you brought the longest sandy beach in South Korea here, it wouldn’t compare. The only downside to this upscale neighborhood was the presence of tacky hotels and foreign tourists strolling along the streets.

Even in Bucerías, the line between rich and poor was drawn along the highway. The refreshing afternoon southwestern wind, carrying the scent of the sea and the waves, lost its vitality as it traversed the well-gardened residences and only permeated the alleys of the less fortunate after shedding most of its vigor. As I drove along the highway, this contrast became vividly apparent. The cars veering left were modern, belonging to this era, while those going right were relics from the past. In this city, even the change of eras was filtered like the wind, gradually seeping in.

The line of vehicles, including the limousine I was in, stopped when the paved road ended at the entrance to the property. There, two plainclothes guards armed with automatic rifles were stationed, and along the wall, high-end cars that had arrived earlier were neatly parked.

“Pr-Presidente!”

Among the parked cars, one stood out—a Porsche 911 Carrera S, gleaming in silver. Perucho, the stout man, shouted in a pale voice as a warning.

“Be careful! That’s El Juego’s car!”

I responded, feigning ignorance.

“Who is that?”

“He’s the heir of the Sinaloa Cartel’s Bucerías Plaza, a very ruthless and dangerous man. Do you know how many people have gone missing since that guy returned to this port six months ago? This might be a trap, an attempt to kidnap Presidente and demand a ransom! No one would suspect the Mayor’s invitation!”

“Calm down, calm down.”

I comforted Perucho, who was speaking frantically with a stern face. At the gate, the mayor was making a welcoming gesture, smiling. I signaled that I would follow shortly and faced the anxious man with a long mustache.

Author's Thoughts

Disclaimer:

This novel is a work of fiction! While it may incorporate elements inspired by our "real" historical world, including historical events, settings, and cultures, it is important to note that the story and characters are entirely products of the author's imagination. Any resemblance to real persons, living or deceased, or actual events is purely coincidental. This work should be enjoyed and interpreted as a work of fiction and not as a representation of historical facts or reality.

Also, if you find some error in translation please do let me know by tagging me (@_dawn24) in our Discord server. Since this series is kinda hard to translate. But I'll try my best to make it at least readable :)

Enjoy reading~!