Chapter 59 Long Live!



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This wouldn't be happening if it was Victor's ship, they would have just crashed into it!

Negotiation?

What's there to negotiate with a drug trafficker.

But the captain refused to agree, even clinging to Casare's legs, crying and wailing.

After all, he was a policeman, required to protect the "legal property" of "legitimate citizens".

Plus, Victor wanted to hear what they had to say, too.

Four drug traffickers climbed up the ladder along the side of the ship, and as soon as they reached the deck, they were held down. Startled, they began to struggle and resist.

"Don't panic, we're just checking for contraband," Casare said with a smile, standing in front of them.

Hiss...

An officer pulled down a drug trafficker's pants, revealing a Mickey Mouse logo.

"Hey, buddy, cover that up before Disney's legal team sues," Casare joked as he shouted.

"I just wanted to check if he was hiding a bomb up his ass," the officer said seriously, groping the other man's buttocks and remarking how round they were.

The trafficker was so angry he almost got up to fight back; if it weren't for the dozens of guns trained on him, he swore he would have done it.

"Casare, this is very unfriendly!" The leading man was very thin and tried to break free with all his might, but the grip of the officers only tightened. "Let me go, you fat pig, I'm here to negotiate on behalf of Tijuana!"

That he knew his name was not at all surprising. It would be a dereliction of duty for a drug trafficking operation not to know.

"I have nothing to negotiate with a drug lord," Victor said with a cigarette in his mouth as he came out of the cabin, "How can justice possibly pander to evil?"

The man struggled to lift his head and laughed, "Victor, you call yourself justice? How many people have you killed in Mexico City..."

"Hold on."

Suddenly, Victor extended his hand, "Sorry, before you go on about my glorious deeds, could I get another cigarette? Thanks."

He smiled and then lit a new cigarette with the spent butt, "Please continue, oh and let me reiterate, those weren't people, they were drug traffickers, they were mongrels!"

"Got it?"

The man felt deeply insulted; even agents of the United States Drug Enforcement Administration would not dare to speak to a high-ranking member of a drug trafficking cartel in this way.

His gaze was sinister, with an implied threat, "You should understand, Baja California State belongs to Tijuana, opposing us will not end well for you. I came here with good intentions; there's a check for two million US Dollars in the box. All you have to do is ensure our safe passage to Guadalupe Island, and you can even get a share of the profits every year."

"They're shooting! They're shooting!"

Officials at the dock quickly grabbed binoculars and saw the scene of the traffickers being gunned down, cursing Victor nonstop, and when they finally saw that man being tied with ropes and thrown off the ship, they shouted in anger, "Idiot! I'm going to file a complaint against him; he's murdering citizens of Baja California State!"

No one around paid any attention to him.

They were shocked by what they had witnessed.

Indeed, they had heard of the name Victor Carlos Vieri, but could not imagine he would be so "bold!"

This was the Tijuana Cartel!

Those who offended him did not care if you were young or old, men or women; they would kill you all.

There was once a day when the number of people he killed filled the local morgue!

He had also successively murdered four mayors subordinate to Baja California State, utterly brazen.

Here, you either collaborated with him, or you died.

As for those like Victor who resisted.

They likely faced no good end.

Of course, Victor wasn't aware of the thoughts of those "cowards" ashore. He looked down at the man being dragged below.

"Boss, the sharks are coming!" Casare, with keen eyes, pointed to the distance and said.

This area was a gathering place for great white sharks...

Victor, following the direction pointed by Casare, indeed saw sharks with their dorsal fins showing, attracted by the smell of blood.

"What do you think, will the sharks get high if they eat the drug traffickers?"

Casare: "????"

What kind of question is that?

"Probably not."

Victor nodded thoughtfully, "That's good; the great whites around Guadalupe Island need not worry about food then."

Casare's scalp went numb at once, and he couldn't help but ask.

"Boss, do you worship... Satan?"

...