Victor had been "holding court" in Dan Senada City for two days.
He mainly wanted to see if the Tijuana Cartel had the "guts" to counterattack!
After all, the cannons of his "Duke Victor" were still pointed at them.
But clearly...
They didn't have the nerve.
The drug trafficker wasn't in a hurry, but some people were becoming anxious.
On January 6, 1990.
The Mexican Government finally sent someone to "take over" Ensenada City, and it was an old acquaintance.
Alejandro!
At the airport.
Victor looked at his former boss and his entourage getting off the plane with a smile on his face, and took the initiative to extend his hand, "You've worked hard, Mr. Alejandro."
Having not seen each other for a long time, the man appeared utterly exhausted, with lifeless eyes and heavy dark circles, showing no joy from any promotion or fortune.
Alejandro let out a long sigh, "Victor, your situation has become serious!"
Upon hearing this, Casare's calves tensed, almost making the EDM officers protect Victor as they hurriedly ran away.
"How serious?"
"Are those old men afraid that I'll pull down their pants and tell everyone that they don't have a little dick? Do they wake up every day and call the drug traffickers first thing in the morning to say good morning?"
"If they're not happy with it, they can come to me. I'd love to reason with them."
Victor's words were becoming increasingly spirited.
He wasn't afraid at all.
"Anti-Drug Pioneer," "Light of the Mexican Police," "Drug Lord Nemesis," "Emperor of Mexico" (strike that, strike that, he hadn't achieved that yet).
With his current reputation, the Mexican Government wouldn't dare do anything to him—they could only play small tricks, like assigning him elsewhere or having him report on his duties.
Ah~
I, Victor, won't go!
When I'm at my strongest, I'll go to Mexico City and ask who really owns this world, whether it's the drug traffickers or Victor... the ordinary people!
Alejandro took a deep breath, "Let's talk in the car," as he glanced at Victor.
The man nodded and walked ahead.
Who would dare to make a move if Victor didn't?
The two of them boarded a bright red Rolls-Royce Silver Spirit, bulletproof and collected as spoils from the drug lords.
It was said to be the vehicle of one of the seven brothers from the Tijuana Cartel.
"This car is very ostentatious," Alejandro said as he patted the seat cushion.
Victor smiled and crossed his legs, then took out a cigar box and offered it to Alejandro, "Do I need to be discreet now? I'm probably the most audacious person in all of Mexico in everyone's eyes, right?"
Alejandro looked out the window and saw quite a few shops hanging Victor's portrait at their entrances?
"It seems you are deeply loved by the people in Ensenada City, more popular than the president," he said. Your next chapter is on m v|l-e'-novelhall.net
Victor smiled, "The Mexican people are too eager for someone to maintain law and order, after all, those who like drug traffickers are the minority, most deeply despise them. Who walking on the street doesn't have relatives killed by drug traffickers?"
"Sir, it's not that I chose Mexico, but that the Mexican people chose me," Victor stated more bluntly, "If you can annihilate the Tijuana Cartel, I believe you will undoubtedly be the strongest candidate in the next gubernatorial election."
Alejandro smiled upon hearing this.
"With your support, I can rest assured," he said.
He had made many moves to be transferred to Baja California, aiming for Victor. What good was it to be a senior assistant in Mexico City?
When you come out to work, you need to follow the right person.
"So where do you plan to work? Tijuana or Mexicali?"
"I'll be in Ensenada City. Until a new mayor arrives, I'm in charge here, so Victor, any needs you have you can fully discuss with me," he said.
That was exactly what Victor needed to hear!
...
That very afternoon, Ensenada City's TV station began looping a "help wanted" ad, Guadalupe Island needed a large number of skilled technicians.
And to be incorporated into the local government departments.
The minimum salary was no less than 2,000 US dollars, and for high-level talents, there was a subsidy of 10,000 US dollars.
If you had children, there was an additional "companion bonus" of 2,000 US dollars per year, and up to 50 days of annual leave!
The police department was also recruiting Police Auxiliary Staff.
Requirements: no tattoos, no criminal records for parents and the individual, and a minimum height of 165 cm.
Finding someone in Mexico whose parents have no criminal record might be a bit difficult, but what Victor wanted were these minorities; otherwise, the police department would be filled with corruption and disorder.
The need for political vetting had become evident.
And to entice young people, even the salaries were posted.
"Trainee constable: 500 US dollars a month."
"Officer: 600 US dollars a month."
"Chief: 1,200 US dollars a month, with standard police benefits."
There were currently only three levels, but this was already enough to delineate the "bloated" staffing.
Otherwise, who would the numerous auxiliary police listen to during patrols?
Once the salaries were out, the registration places were instantaneously overwhelmed.
One should know that Ensenada City had a resident population of nearly 400,000, always having some highly educated individuals.
Even people from nearby cities were coming over.
On the docks, you could see ships transporting ordinary people to Guadalupe Island, their gaze fixed on the distance, hoping the seagulls would bring them new hope.
...