Chapter 81 : 81: I Declare Myself Responsible for This Matter! (Vote for Monthly Ticket!)
The Tijuana Cartel couldn't possibly keep this matter under wraps.
Many people and organizations were behind the scenes, stirring things up.
It immediately made the Mexican "hot search," and even neighboring United States had a lot of news popping up.
Mainly because the Tijuana Cartel really was "too prominent."
Imagine: in a class full of bad students, your homeroom teacher is already displeased with you. Then you act like the little tyrant among those students: farting when the teacher is talking, and occasionally slapping the teacher, telling him not to get too jumpy.
You go around snapping your classmates' underwear and flicking their little brothers during breaks.
Such a student...
would be "quite conspicuous," wouldn't they?
At this moment in the Sinaloa Group.
Palma, the confused speaker, looked at Guzman, "Your people... killed all of Ramon's crew?"
He glanced at him, then back at the news on TV.
Suddenly he felt... Guzman was so dangerous!
Zambada was sitting beside him, smiling and saying, "Impressive, Guzman is truly worthy of his reputation. With you here, Sinaloa can definitely take over Tijuana!"
This remark made Palma narrow his eyes.
When the boss starts to fear his underling, it's already tough because Guzman's abilities are quite prominent. Now you've taken out the enemy's top-ranking people. You're making things difficult for me.
Guzman was also a bit dazed.
Hey, wait! That wasn't it!
I only sent people to cause trouble, and you directly killed Ramon?
He was about to explain when he saw Palma's meaningful look, and suddenly his nerves tensed up.
Palma was quite petty-minded.
To get more attention than the boss, you either bow your head or you take out the boss.
But Guzman's failure to explain made Palma even more displeased, while Zambada sat nearby, the corners of his mouth showing a faint smile as he glanced at the two of them.
They all had their own ulterior motives!
Although the three people had been "good friends" for over a decade, when Guzman and his cousins failed in their venture, they joined under the independent drug lord Aviles, following Palma.
But after Gallardo's arrest and the disintegration of the Guadalajara Cartel, the Sinaloa Group got most of the territory. Their influence grew instantly, smuggling drugs to the United States through tunnels 24 hours a day.
They had an income of nearly 15 billion US dollars every year!
With more money and territory, they weren't as close as before.
Brothers ended up screwing each other over big time!
"I'm not watching this! Nothing good to see." Palma suddenly turned off the TV and got up to leave.
Now only Guzman and Zambada were left in the room, the latter posing like a bitch and asking, "What's wrong with Mr. Palma?"
Guzman turned his head, his stocky frame glaring at him, "Zambada, do you realize your pissy smell is almost overflowing?"
Zambada's face turned red with shame.
He had a condition where he couldn't hold it in well, which was always an embarrassing problem for him. Guzman's words felt like a slap to him!
But the other man didn't give him the chance to reply and walked away with a dark face.
Zambada was very tolerant, he took a deep breath, picked up the orange juice in front of him for a sip; he hardly touched alcohol, as it could cloud his thinking.
When Guzman left the room, he saw the four brothers of the Beltran Leyva standing at the door.
The eldest, Arturo, spoke softly, "Palma looked very upset when he left. What happened?"
"Find someone to get rid of him!" Guzman said with a dark face, without explaining the reason.
The four brothers were shocked; the eldest, Arturo, was the most capable. He calmly analyzed that something must have gone wrong between them. Otherwise, with Guzman's patient and low-profile nature, he would never stand out like this.
"My country has the heart of a lion, and I simply wish to awaken its roar."
"I sincerely invite talents of all kinds to join the Guadalupe Island Police Station. We will offer a minimum salary of 1,000 US Dollars per month, along with generous benefits. If you hate drug traffickers as much as we do, please contact us."
Mexico is the War God.
Victor's resonant voice came from the TV, and the young are passionate, especially those in higher education. No one wants to lie down and become a vampire; everyone looks forward to changing the world.
To punch through this filthy world!
To cleanse the things that annoy us!
Many university students clench their fists, excited by Victor's words.
Suddenly...
They saw the TV explode.
"¡Gilipollas!" A university student dressed in branded clothes stood up, pulled out a gun, and shot at the television set.
By his manner... it was clear that he had a considerable connection with the Tijuana Cartel.
Glass shattered everywhere.
Some people instinctively ducked their heads, not daring to make a sound.
But others were boiling with excitement.
"What are you doing!" a poorly dressed student bravely stood up, staring at him with clenched teeth.
The other party was startled to see someone standing up to question him but instantly became angry, turned the gun towards him, and cruelly pulled the trigger.
But no bullet came out; was the gun jammed?
"Fellow students, kill this drug trafficker!" the student shouted as he rushed forward and struck the man down to the ground with a punch.
It takes a leader to inspire action; once someone takes the initiative, others will respond, and a hundred male students joined in this "duel."
They actually beat him to death!
Turning him into mush.
With so many people, a splash of their urine could have overwhelmed him.
The leading student saw the dead, panicked, but then climbed onto a table, raised his hand, and said, "Fellow students, it's not illegal to kill a drug trafficker!"
"Let's go to Guadalupe Island!"
"Let's join Mr. Victor's team!"
"Let's save Mexico together!"
Some hesitated and asked, "Guadalupe Island is in the Pacific Ocean, how do we get there?"
The question was like a bucket of cold water poured over their heads, instantly bringing everyone back to their senses.
Right, the Pacific Ocean was in between; were they supposed to swim across?
They'd be eaten by sharks in the sea before they ever got there.
The student standing on the table grew tense.
If people from the Tijuana Cartel arrived, they would be doomed.
"We can contact Guadalupe Island Police Station; they must have a way," suddenly a student said.
Everyone's eyes flickered with hope.
Now, they could only hope for the best against the odds.
"Who has a phone?"
"There's one in the cafeteria."
"Go! Rush there, make the call fast; otherwise, we'll be too late when the drug traffickers come," someone shouted.
...