The video of the drug trafficker nicknamed Scorpion (Escorpión) being wiped out was played on a loop on Guadalupe Island television that same night.
They even paired his photo with the image of his charred remains for all to see.
Ordinary citizens watching this would slowly grow their confidence in the police force, while the drug traffickers watching would "rejoice" that they hadn't been as stubborn as Scorpion.
Francisco sat in the bar. This would likely be his last visit to a Guadalupe Island bar. Watching the news broadcast on television, the tequila in his hand lost its appeal.
"Boss, should we take Nora with us tomorrow?" his subordinate asked by his side.
Francisco paused, that was his mistress, and they had a child together. He hesitated, sighed, and said, "Leave some money for her. Although that tyrant is here, Guadalupe Island is still much safer than other places."
His father was a drug trafficker, and so was his grandfather.
A drug trafficker?
Sooner or later, they were bound to end up as corpses in the wilderness!
How many of them ended up with a good outcome?
Francisco dreamed of being a painter when he was young. He loved Van Gogh, but unfortunately, Mexico, his country, had no room for even a small desk or a dream. As a child, he dodged the skirmishes of his father's enemies, and all four of his brothers died young.
He had no choice but to follow this path.
But he didn't want his own child to have to walk it too.
Francisco finished his tequila in one gulp, picked up the hat on the table, and said, "Get some rest early. Don't be late tomorrow."
He walked out of the bar, lit a cigarette for himself, and looked up at the starry sky.
"The moon is so beautiful," he remarked.
Tonight should be the quietest night on Guadalupe Island since Mexico's independence, with no gunfights, no noise, no homicides.
"Probationary officer" Santos sat by the desk at home, looking towards the outside, squinting, and muttered, "The moon is really clear."
...
The next day.
The sky was clear, with a light breeze.
The sea breeze brought a warm, intoxicating air.
Such weather was rare on Guadalupe Island.
Drug traffickers came from all directions, slowly gathered nearly a thousand core members. Under the guidance of the officers, they discarded their weapons to avoid any "unnecessary trouble", and all civilians were not allowed near the docks.
A military management was implemented within five kilometers of the dock.
The drug traffickers hung their heads, appearing somewhat low-spirited.
During the US-Mexico joint drug clean-up phase, many big shots surrendered because they couldn't win against the military, like Gallardo. But it was rare for the police to make them throw up their hands.
Francisco arrived early and picked a good spot, but when he gazed toward the sea, he didn't see any boat!
"Boss, why are there so many police over here, and where's the boat... the boat?" his subordinate also felt something was wrong and quickly asked.
Victor took a drag on his cigarette and looked up as he blew out a puff of smoke, "The air smells sweeter without the drug traffickers."
He was in a very good mood.
Especially with those points steadily increasing.
The drug traffickers on Guadalupe Island didn't compare to those from the prison, but they still provided him with 6.4 million points.
Casare stuck his head out over the sea and the smell of blood attracted Jaws below. Suddenly a huge bloodied mouth burst from the sea, giving him a fright, and Jaws swept up a body and dove back under the water.
"From now on!"
"No drug traffickers are allowed on Guadalupe Island!"
"Gentlemen, anyone who traffics drugs is going against me, Victor!"
The surrounding officers stood at attention: "Sí, ¡Señor!" (Yes, Director!)
...
Zacatecas State.
Tijuana VS Juarez + Sinaloa!
The defeated are retreating. Three plantations have been burned down, along with two research institutes. The transportation routes from Baja California State to the US-Mexico border have been disrupted, causing heavy losses for Tijuana.
Inside a private house.
Several important members of the Felix Family were seated.
"I think we should form an alliance with the Gulf Group, we need help," said Ramon, known for his flamboyant personality and fondness for bright clothes, to his older brother Benjamin.
"The Gulf Group doesn't come cheap," replied Benjamin.
Ramon, annoyed yet amused, responded, "If Palma and Guzman, those bastards, break through, do you think we will still be alive? We shouldn't worry about the price being high, we should be grateful that we still have a chance."
Benjamin nodded, "Agree to the demands of the Gulf Group." He paused before adding, "They want Guadalupe Island?"
Ramon nodded, "They want that place as a transfer point for goods across the Pacific Ocean. Now there's some clueless director on the island, but he's got good firepower. I heard the traffickers there can't hold out much longer. We're just about to negotiate with the Gulf Group. If they want it, we'll give it to them.
It just so happens that our men on the island can come down to help us resist Sinaloa."
"They have strong firepower?" asked Benjamin, raising an eyebrow.
Ramon was about to speak when the cell phone on the table rang. Benjamin gestured for him to answer the call. Ramon apologized with a smile, still showing respect for his older brother.
"What?"
"They're all dead?!"
Ramon couldn't help but exclaim aloud.
All the Felix Family members present turned to look at him, seeing the notorious head of the Tijuana Cartel with an ugly expression.
It was even fair to say he was in disbelief!
...