Working as a police officer in Mexico.

Chapter 628 Ask them if they're willing to surrender to us!

The closer it gets to Day of the Dead.

The atmosphere throughout Mexico became increasingly excited.

You can see businesses spontaneously organizing to hang lace-up decorations on their shops, streets are often paved with marigolds, and skull toys and dolls appear at street entrances, all of which elicit cheers from children.

The Mexican government spent 9000 million riyals to host this festival.

With extensive advertising in the media, Mexico City saw an influx of over 160 million tourists in just one week, bringing the total number of people in the city to over 1100 million.

Hotel prices alone have increased by nearly 120%!

With tens of millions of people celebrating, Casare, as prime minister, had to personally chair the meeting, which lasted for six or seven hours. When he came out of the meeting room, everyone else looked exhausted, but he was still quite enthusiastic.

"Robert!"

He called out to the police minister, Robert Beale, who looked helpless. "Mr. Prime Minister, I think I should go to the toilet now, otherwise this thing of mine is a bit out of control."

Casare smacked his lips. "Go ahead, go ahead."

But he always managed to find someone, and when he saw the Mexican Deputy Police Chief, the Metropolitan Police Chief Friedrich Karl Eberstein, sneaking down the stairs, he would loudly call out to him.

He turned around with a long face.

Someone nearby couldn't help but laugh out loud.

“You seem happy, Alfred. You stay too, I have something to say to you.”

The Minister of Civil Affairs' smile froze for a moment, but then moved to the faces of other people, who quickly ran downstairs.

Casare said to them with a very serious expression, "This time, there absolutely cannot be any mistakes. You must understand that if you make another mistake, you'll be sent to California to raise pigs. If I had known about the Grand Plaza bombing last time, I would have punished you. It was the Führer who said he would give you a chance, but if you don't seize this opportunity, don't blame me for being ruthless!"

Friedrich Karl Eberstein immediately tensed up. As the police chief of the capital, he was in charge of the police force throughout Mexico City. This incident alone had caused the country to lose face. If he were in South Korea, he would have been shot by Park Kakala long ago, and in North Korea, he would have been executed by artillery fire.

He didn't explain either. Casare wasn't one to appreciate his subordinates' explanations; if they could, they could, and if not, they were fired!
He's usually all smiles with you, but if his expression turns serious, you should be careful.

"I understand, I promise to complete the task!"

"Even if I die, I will die on the front line of command."

Casare, seeing the other party's assurance and after giving a few more words of encouragement, left satisfied.

Alfred Rosenberg, the head of the civil affairs department, wiped the sweat from his brow. "I don't think I've sweated this much in a long time. I almost thought the Prime Minister was going to punch me."

"What are you afraid of? I'm the one who's scared. My head is spinning. There's a march of over 1100 million people, and I have to cooperate with the military. Otherwise, the police alone can't handle it. Where are your volunteers?"

"Don't worry, don't worry, I'll definitely find a way to help you."

A group of ministers were extremely busy, but when Casare went to find Victor, he found him reading a book.

The Art of War!

"Boss, you're reading a book? Why aren't you reading 'Mein Kampf' anymore?"

"What's so interesting about books by losers? I found that Nelson Mandela cultivated himself through reading during his 27 years of imprisonment, and I thought I could learn something from him, but when I found out that he was following Mahatma Gandhi, I realized that they were all idiots."

Victor closed the book, rubbed his temples, and continued, "Margaret Thatcher was deeply influenced by economist Hayek, and the Charter of Liberty became the source of her neoliberal policy ideas, but Britain lost too much during her tenure."

"You can tell a person's character from the books they want to read."

"What right do a bunch of people destined to be eliminated by history have to make me read their works?" Vivektor's words were rather arrogant. If they were to reach Britain and South Africa, given their petty nature, he would be thoroughly criticized.

Casare listened attentively and nodded, "Indeed, Thatcher is a woman who can barely walk steadily, and she was so weak when playing against Argentina. The British are like stalks now, they look very upright on the outside, but they are actually soft and weak on the inside. It's no use teasing them now, you have to rely on flattery."

The innuendo-esque remark startled Viktor, who then burst into laughter, tears streaming down his face. "You've been getting more and more humorous lately. How's it going? What's your relationship with Haliel like?"

“Not bad, but his father doesn’t like me very much. His father is a staunch supporter of the American Dream.” Casare felt a headache coming on at the thought of his future father-in-law. “But don’t worry, I can handle it.”

Viktor hesitated for a moment, then shut up.

He didn't want to give bad advice.

"Can you take a look at my speech?" He handed over the prepared speech on the table. He was going to give a televised speech to all of Mexico at eight o'clock that evening.

After all, this was their first large-scale gathering of over ten million people since they came to power.

Many countries don't even have ten million people.

This is basically a cause for universal celebration.

If it were the old man from back when he was in his prime, he would have written dozens of poems to express his excitement. What's most unbearable about this guy is that when he was eighty years old, he gathered 3000 old men from all over the country for a grand banquet for the elderly, almost exhausting them to death along the way.

This kind of wasteful and extravagant project is hardly something a perfect old man should be talking about.

Casare accepted the manuscript with both hands "respectfully." He did not become casual after getting along well with Victor; on the contrary, he became even more respectful.

He read it carefully and waited for about ten minutes before praising it, "The whole piece is full of emotion. I think even the professional writers in the secretariat couldn't beat you. But boss, you wrote it too fast, and the formatting is a bit messy. I'll fix it for you later."

You can't say the leader's writing is bad, but if you say it's perfect, it sounds too fake and not careful enough. If you nitpick, the leader will think you're finding fault. So you can only nitpick from places that seem important but aren't really important.

typesetting!

Who's the audience for a TV speech?

But Victor was satisfied. He glanced at his watch. "It's getting late. Why don't you stay for dinner tonight? Your sister-in-law made something delicious." "That would be wonderful!"

Viktor still maintained his habit of eating at home. When Belsaria saw that Casare had also arrived, she was delighted and pulled him to sit down.

"Don't mention it, sister-in-law, I can do it myself."

"Whatever." Viktor poured himself half a glass of beer, ate a bite of food, and complimented his wife, Belsaria, who seemed very happy.

You wouldn't guess at all that they almost broke up because of infidelity.

The atmosphere was very harmonious.

After the meal, Belsaria changed him into a traditional Mexican outfit, complete with a wide-brimmed hat and cape. Anyone who didn't know better would mistake him for Zorro.

eight pm.

Victor was always in front of the camera.

People strolling on the bustling streets looked up at the large screen in the shopping mall; women mopping the floor at home heard the noise from the television; and criminals repenting in jail sat upright under the reprimands of their guards. When they saw Viktor in traditional clothing, they unconsciously stopped in their tracks.

"Mom, look!" a child suddenly shouted, pointing at the big screen. His mother quickly slapped his hand and gestured for him to be quiet.

"Dear Mexican compatriots"

"When golden marigolds once again carpet the path to memories, when the warmth of candlelight dispels the chill of the night, when the air is filled with the sweet aroma of bread and the rich flavor of cocoa… Mexico, our beloved homeland, once again opens its heart to embrace the eternal cycle of life in the most unique and heartfelt way. We welcome the Day of the Dead—a celebration etched deep in our souls, a grand reunion that transcends life and death, filled with love and laughter!!"

Viktor put down his manuscript and began speaking entirely without it.

"Fellow countrymen, the Day of the Dead is far more than just a holiday. It is a philosophical declaration of our Mexican nation's understanding of life, acceptance of death, and celebration of connection, just as the great poet Octavio Paz aptly observed: 'Death is the Mexican's most beloved toy, his eternal love.' For us, death is not a cold end, but a heartfelt look back in the long river of life, a sweet reunion with the souls of loved ones on the other side."

"This year, we expect more than 1100 million Mexican compatriots and foreign tourists to participate in this celebration of life and memory in their own unique and devout ways. 1100 million hearts! This is not just a number; it is 1100 million commitments to tradition and 1100 million heartfelt dialogues that transcend time and space."

I see you:

Before the carefully constructed altar at home, the deceased loved ones' favorite foods, drinks, and keepsakes are placed. The flickering candlelight is a messenger that travels across dimensions; the vibrant marigold petals are starlight that guides them home; and wisps of incense smoke carry our endless longing to the heavens.

"In the solemn yet vibrant cemetery, you kept vigil through the night, cleaning and tidying the decorations, accompanying your sleeping loved ones with laughter, melodious music, and familiar food. This was not sorrowful weeping, but loving companionship, a whisper to them: 'You have never been forgotten; you live forever in our memories and in our lives.'"

"In community squares, school classrooms, and art exhibitions, you use colorful skull costumes, humorous Katrina skulls, moving poems, and unrestrained dances to interpret our open-mindedness and humor about death. We use art to dispel fear and laughter to pay tribute to eternity."

"Fellow countrymen, the Day of the Dead is a cultural treasure of ours, a UNESCO Intangible Cultural Heritage of Humanity!!!!"
"It shines with the extraordinary resilience, creativity, and unwavering loyalty to family and roots of our Mexican people. On this holiday, we transcend social class and geographical boundaries, immersing ourselves in a profound sense of cultural identity and collective emotion. It reminds us that life is precious because it is finite, and that love, memory, and tradition give life a power that transcends time."

"In this moment filled with love and memories, we also hold deep respect and remembrance in our hearts. Tonight, on our altar, we not only display photos of our family members, but also solemnly commemorate those sons and daughters who bravely sacrificed their lives in the fight against drugs to protect the peace and future of Mexico—our police officers, soldiers, law enforcement officers, community workers, and all the ordinary heroes who gave their lives to combat the scourge of drugs."

Viktor's eyes welled up with tears as he spoke, perhaps thinking of his brothers who had fought alongside him, many of whom had fallen before the dawn.

"They are the guardians of this land, the defenders of children's smiles, and the cornerstone of community peace. With unparalleled courage and selfless dedication, they faced the darkness and fought for a safer and more hopeful tomorrow for us. Their figures, who never returned, will forever be etched in the collective memory of our nation. Their sacrifice, heavy yet glorious, is like the brightest candle on the altar tonight, illuminating our path in pursuit of justice and lasting peace."

"Fellow countrymen, as we mourn our loved ones and celebrate life, let us also, with the deepest respect, light a lamp in the hearts of these immortal heroes, wishing their souls eternal peace guided by the marigold. May their courage and sacrifice inspire us to continue to unite as one and build a Mexico free from violence, full of dignity and opportunity. We promise that their names will not be forgotten, and the cause they fought for, we will steadfastly continue!"

As a representative of Mexico, I hereby appeal to:

Let every parent and grandparent pass on the stories, customs, and meanings of the Day of the Dead to the next generation, so that children understand that death is not the end, but part of the cycle of life; that mourning is not sadness, but a celebration and connection filled with love. At the same time, let them know the heroic stories of those who sacrificed themselves to protect them.

The Day of the Dead is our shared holiday. Regardless of your state, dialect, or background, let us, as Mexicans, respect one another and share the joy and warmth of this festival. We also welcome friends from all over the world to experience our culture; please join this celebration of life with respect and understanding.

On this special day, let us deeply remember our beloved family members and forever honor and pay tribute to the heroes who sacrificed their lives for our country. May the candlelight of the Day of the Dead illuminate not only the journey of the departed but also our path to peace, justice, social reconciliation, and national revival. Let us transform our remembrance of the deceased and our reverence for heroes into the strength of unity, the remembrance of healing, and the unwavering determination and undying hope to build a safer, more just, and more prosperous Mexico!
Fellow countrymen, as the morning light of November 1st and 2nd once again bathes the earth, and as the candles on the altar gradually die out, please remember:
The path we pave for the departed to return home will never disappear. They exist in the stories we tell, in the traditions we follow, and in every passionate embrace of life we ​​make.

Death is not true annihilation; oblivion is the eternal extinction. The Day of the Dead is our grandest, most magnificent, and most loving rebellion against oblivion—a rebellion against forgetting loved ones, and even more so against forgetting heroes!
Therefore, let us celebrate together, with longing for our loved ones, respect for our heroes, and love for life! Let us sing! Let us dance! Let us fill this night of memories, reunions, and immortal spirit with flowers, candlelight, delicious food, music, and boundless love!
For our beloved Mexico! For our enduring traditions! For our loved ones who will forever live in our hearts! For our immortal heroes who gave their lives to protect us!
Vivan nuestras tradiciones!
Vivan los que se adelantaron!
Homage to the heroes who protect us in eternity!
Thank you everyone! Wishing you a peaceful, joyful, loving, and remembrance-filled Day of the Dead!

Viktor slowly rose to his feet. “Remember history, remember heroes, and remember tradition.”

After speaking, he bowed deeply.

Mexico cannot lose its traditions, otherwise it will be culturally colonized, and what's the point of liberation then?

His words were met with applause in many places across the country.

"Clap your hands!" Mom patted her child's head.

"You won't let me speak?"

"Don't force me to hit you at a time like this."

The child clapped enthusiastically, almost jumping for joy.

After Victor stepped off the stage from the camera's view, Casare gave him a thumbs-up in praise.

"Oh, right, boss, there's another good news."

"what?"

Viktor asked as he wrapped his coat around himself, noting that it was a bit cold outside.

"Medellrin suddenly attacked our troops. After we repelled them, they were preparing to attack when they announced their surrender to Colombia on television, but demanded that Colombia agree to their terms."

"They are willing to donate $600 billion in assets!"

Victor blinked. "Ask them if they'd like to surrender to us."

……

(End of this chapter)