After briefly shaking off their pursuers, EDM drove into the slums of Chimalhuacán. The locals who were basking in the sun there were startled by the noise and saw a van driving in.
A few individuals dressed like bandits emerged from the vehicle, brandishing submachine guns.
But the civilians seemed to be used to such sights; they didn't even flinch, only some children curiously gnawed on their fingers as they watched.
Mexicans are indeed different.
They scale walls at the sound of gun battles and relieve themselves amidst mines.
EDM's leading captain whistled and then threw a set of car keys to a man, carrying the unconscious Raul Salinas with his team as they ran towards the next location.
The man looked at the car keys in his hand, then at the van, and let out an exclamation of surprise!
Fortune had smiled upon him!
How lucky, to be given a car!
He had just settled into the driver's seat, delighting in fiddling with the steering wheel— even selling the vehicle would bring in a fair amount of money, enough to cover his family's expenses. But before he could revel in his euphoria for more than a few minutes, a group of armed men stormed in and pinned him to the ground.
"Don't kill me, please don't kill me!" the man howled.
"Where's the driver?" A drug trafficker slapped him across the face and pulled his hair, interrogating him.
"They ran that way, I don't know them." The man pointed down a narrow alley while cradling his head.
The drug trafficker's boss waved his hand, "Chase them!"
Before leaving, they shot the man on the ground twice.
It was just a matter of convenience for them.
The man's eyes were wide open in death, a look of astonishment frozen on his face. After the traffickers had pursued their quarry, his relatives emerged, clutching the corpse and wailing, his wife looked helplessly around, and the children were bewildered.
In fact, who could have anticipated...
Could the EDM captain who had given the car know that his actions inadvertently led to the death of the main breadwinner of a family?
In an unstable society, you never know when you might be shot dead by a passing drug trafficker.
In Brazil, the situation's even worse. Slum dwellers returning home from work might encounter a shootout between the police and drug traffickers—you're expected to join the traffickers' ranks purposely; otherwise... the traffickers will kill your entire family out of anger for your "indifference."
To blame, only this screwed-up society!
They don't live in a peaceful country!
The captain led his team into an unremarkable house, lifted a section of the floor, and there was a passage underneath.
Which went straight out of the city.
Mexicans are probably the world's best tunnel diggers. According to estimates, as of 2020, there were approximately 17,189 underground passages in Mexico City alone, not including other areas.
The entire country...
Was like a hornet's nest underneath.
No wonder it all damn collapsed during the big earthquake!
"Wait," the captain said. After everyone had descended, he climbed back up and tied a booby trap by the door, with four grenades tied to a string—anyone pushing through from the outside would trigger... Boom!
Sneaky!
God knows who he learned it from.
When they finished setting the trap, they all quickly entered the tunnel and hunched over as they alternately dragged the unconscious Raul Salinas forward, calculating that they were almost out when an explosion sounded behind them.
Clearly, the pursuers had arrived.
"Hurry, move it!" The captain, covering the rear, shouted and climbed for several more minutes until they saw light outside, where people were already waiting—over a dozen fully armed EDM members and four Humvees.
Those crawling out of the tunnel sat on the ground, gasping for breath.
The air was too thin below.
When Guzman escaped from prison, his son even had oxygen tanks and a doctor with him...
Fearing dying inside.
The captain, drenched in sweat, struggled to get up, "Move! Don't stay here."
The group got into the vehicles and hastened away.
Perhaps it was the abuse of servants from an early age that had bred in Raul Salinas a very perverse impulse; approximately 31 servants had disappeared from his household.
No one knew where they had gone.
When the families of the servants came to demand an explanation, he would shamelessly accuse them, saying their daughters had stolen his possessions and then disappeared.
And because of his status, the local police department dared not intervene.
He even acted as the facilitator for drug traffickers; for 5 million US dollars, one could have dinner with his brother.
His Crime Value was as high as 3100000!
Perhaps... Golden Finger believed he had caused far more damage than some drug traffickers.
Victor was also a policeman. The very Mexico City Police Department that dared not touch him, he would handle, no matter who's royal or noble relation.
To kill in return for life, to pay debts—it's only natural!
All ten fingers were broken, twisted the wrong way...
Victor glanced at his watch, walked over, and asked, "May I ask if you're willing to talk now?"
Raul screamed through his mouth, the young master born with a golden key had never suffered this torment before, ceaselessly howling in pain.
Victor repeated the question, but the other party still ignored him. He laughed, took the cigarette from his mouth, and stuffed it into the other's mouth, "Take a puff and it won't hurt."
"Pff..." Raul spat out immediately, nearly spraying Victor.
That made him furious.
Taking a metal rod from an officer, he yelled, "CNM! I give you face you don't want face?"
Raising the rod, he smashed Raul's arm into a 90° angle. Still not satisfied, he broke his leg, picked up the cigarette from the ground, grabbed his mouth, and stuffed the cigarette butt inside.
"Swallow it! NMD!"
The flame burned as Raul shook his head vigorously in struggle.
Casare swallowed, standing in the background...
Truly NMD ruthless!
But who let Raul collaborate with drug traffickers? And to abuse others.
Some things aren't left unreported.
It's just that Victor hasn't arrived yet!
Just then, the phone rang. Casare quickly answered it and after a few words, he handed it to Victor, "Mr. Alejandro."
"Ptui."
Victor spat on Raul's face, handed the rod to Casare, and took the phone.
"Is Raul Salinas with you, Victor?" Alejandro asked urgently.
"No, what's up, he got lost?"
Alejandro was almost amused by the shameless response, feeling unsettled, he hurriedly said, "The Salinas Family says that everything will be forgiven if you release Raul."
"But I'm a petty man, he wanted to mess with me! You tell me, he could've stayed hidden in Mexico City but he had to pick on me, isn't that forcing me to kill him?"
"Tell the Salinas to come and collect his body."
After Victor finished, he hung up. Raul Salinas looked at him, uttering a pleading sound.
"There's one way out for you, I have 32 methods you haven't experienced yet, which I'll use on you before killing you. Alternatively, you can confess that the Salinas have dealings with drug traffickers, and then... I'll let you leave comfortably."
"Make your choice."
All of them lead to TMD death!
But the processes are not the same...
Death isn't scary, it's living a fate worse than death that's terrifying.
"Is Quintero hiding in the Presidential Palace? What exactly is your transaction with the drug traffickers?"
The pain in his body made Raul unable to bear it any longer, as he trembled and quivered, "Yes."
...