Working as a police officer in Mexico.

Chapter 634 People always have to pay the price for their mistakes, don't they?

"You're involved in drug trafficking and smuggling, Tatiana!!!"

Inside the study, Kuukmote shouted angrily, standing up and forcefully overturning the duck soup. His face was red and his neck was thick. "Do you know what you're doing? Why did you do this!"

"Are you short of money? Are you short of daily necessities? Are you short of living in a villa?"

"Our monthly dividends are enough for you to buy a whole street of luxury goods in Paris!"

"Do you know what will happen to Viktor if you do this? You'll die!" Quaukmote shouted, his eyes red.

Ok…

Victor is just that inhuman, or perhaps he respects the rules.

Having worked with Kwakmote for so long, he knew what kind of person the other was. Beneath that body lay a stubborn streak, and he even sometimes wondered if he was a robot, sometimes devoid of emotion.

Of course, this wasn't the only way to die. Tatiana, right under his nose, lured a wide-ranging society and continuously recruited those with weak wills. From border officials to the leadership, everyone relied on the name of Kuukmot.

Now that this has happened, people are jumping off buildings one by one. Damn it, isn't this just putting Kuukmote on the fire?

Tatiana lowered her head. "I... I'm just a little resentful. You, Victor, and Casare all fought together to conquer Mexico. Why is one the leader, the other in control of the nation's civil administration, and what about you? You're like a puppet, or even just a yes-man. When you sit in front of the TV, I don't see any happiness in you, all I see is your numbness!"

As she spoke, she looked up, her expression gradually becoming agitated. "Every time you come back from the National Palace, you spend a long time in your study. Don't think I don't know. You even have your governing strategies written in your drawer. But why don't you give them to Viktor? Isn't it because you don't trust him?"

“Kill him, Casare is a piece of trash, then you will have the right to take control of Mexico and change the country according to your wishes.”

That sounds like...

That's fucking hilarious!

Kuukmot's eyes betrayed his disappointment. "You think Viktor is someone you can scare like this? Tatiana, have some conscience. If he hadn't sent people to help us, we would have been thrown off the building by the drug dealers by now. What doesn't belong to us will never be ours!"

Do you think crooked and heretical methods can overthrow him?

"and…"

Are you sure foreign forces haven't contacted you?

Tatiana opened her mouth, wanting to explain, when she heard a knock on the door.

"Who!" she asked nervously.

"Sir, Madam, someone is looking for you downstairs," the maid said, trembling.

Kuukmot took a deep breath, suppressing his surging fear, and said in a deep voice to the door, "Understood, come down immediately."

He quickly straightened his wrinkled pajamas, glanced at the pale-faced Tatiana with a complicated look, and whispered, "Stay put."

There was no longer any anger in that voice, only a heavy weariness.

As I reached the door, I looked back and sighed softly.

In the downstairs living room, stood two men in dark suits with expressionless faces.

The leader was a burly (fat) man with sharp, eagle-like eyes. He was Casare, one of Victor's most trusted assistants and one of the three leaders!

"Good evening, buddy." Casare looked at him, his eyes filled with a complicated expression.

“Casare.” Quaukmote forced a smile and stepped forward. “What brings you here so late…” He tried to sound natural, but the dryness in his voice was hard to hide.

Without exchanging pleasantries, the other party handed over the folder directly and said softly, "The head of state asked me to give this to you. It's about those officials who recently jumped off buildings and the smuggling line behind them that has been cut off. The source has been traced very clearly."

"In Mexico, even God needs to know the consequences of his mistakes."

These words contain a profound meaning, and wise people understand them.

Kuukmote's heart sank to the bottom.

His fingers trembled slightly as he took the folder, but he didn't open it. He knew, of course, what was inside—ironclad evidence that could nail Tatiana to the spot.

His Adam's apple bobbed, and he spoke with difficulty, "I..."

"When I arrived, the head of state summoned me and showed me a photograph of us laughing happily in front of the Governor's House in Tijuana,"

Casare interrupted him, his voice still calm, yet it sounded like he was reminiscing, with a hint of sadness in his tone, "But why did it have to be like this? It's only been three short years!"

“I know!” Quaukmot’s voice suddenly rose, hoarse with a hint of despair. “I know everything! Casare, for all these years… for the blood I’ve shed for Mexico…” He grabbed the other’s arm, his eyes filled with unprecedented pain and pleading. “Tatiana, she was just confused! She… she doesn’t deserve to die! Please… please tell Victor…”

His tall frame was now slightly hunched, his eyes bloodshot, and his feigned composure had completely crumbled, leaving only the desperate plea of ​​a husband on the edge of a cliff: "Spare her life! I'll lock her up for life! Please... please beg Viktor for me!"

Casare stood quietly, letting Quaukmote hold his arm.

He looked at his former colleague, who had once shared his vision and strategies, now a comrade-in-arms lying prone in the trenches, and his lips trembled slightly:

"The Führer asked me to ask you this: he needs to know if you are still the Cuauhtót he knows, the one to whom he can entrust Mexico's future?"

"He never treated you as a third-in-command; he treated you as a brother and as the future of the country."

Casare's voice wasn't loud, but it struck Kuukmote's heart like a heavy hammer.

The living room was deathly silent, with only the ticking of the wall clock.

Casare's gaze, as precise as a scalpel, landed on Quaukmot's face. He gently withdrew his arm, a small movement, yet carrying an undeniable determination.

“I have delivered the Führer’s message. Don’t make things difficult for me.” Casare lowered his voice even further, making sure that only Kuukmot could hear the weight of every word. “Now, please let Tatiana come down. The Führer has some final words that I need to pass on to her privately.”

"Alone? Finally?!?"

Kuukmote's voice trembled, and the last glimmer of hope in his eyes was completely extinguished.

He swayed and almost lost his balance.

Kuukmot closed his eyes, taking a painful breath as if trying to inhale all the despair filling the room. "Could it be... could it be that even a little bit..."

"Kuukmot!!!"

Casare suddenly yelled, "You need to know what you're doing!!"

Footsteps echoed in the empty stairwell, slow and heavy.

Tatiana, holding onto the handrail, descended step by step, her face as pale as paper, her lips devoid of color.
She dared not meet her husband's eyes.

Looking at Casare, he tried to appear calm. "Mr. Victor, is there anything you need to tell me?"

Casare gestured for her to enter a small lounge in the side hall of the living room. Tatiana walked over stiffly, like a puppet on a string.

Casare followed closely behind and closed the door.

Kuukmot wanted to follow, but was stopped by the secretary who had come with Casare. "Sir, have some dignity."

He listened to Casare's cold, monotone voice faintly coming from behind the door. Although he couldn't make out what he was saying, every syllable felt like an ice pick piercing his heart.

Kwaukmote even wished in his heart that time would stop at this moment.

It was a very difficult time, but it only lasted about seven or eight minutes.

The door opened.

Casare came out, his face still expressionless, nodded to Quaukmote in farewell, and followed his secretary out of the villa.

He didn't say a word.

The living room was filled with a suffocating silence.

Tatiana emerged from the lounge, her steps still unsteady, but a strange, strained, almost distorted smile appeared on her face.

She walked towards her husband, stopped in front of him, and reached out as if to touch his face, but stopped halfway.

“Don’t be like that.” Her voice was unusually calm, eerily calm. “Mr. Victor… is very reasonable. He just told me to behave myself in the future and not cause you any trouble.” She even tried to force a smile. “He said that for your sake, this time… it’s over.”

Kuukmot suddenly looked up, his bloodshot eyes fixed on her, trying to find a flaw in her face, a trace of fear or despair, but her false calm was like a layer of solid ice.

"It's over?" His voice was hoarse, like sandpaper scraping. "Tatiana... what exactly did Casare say?"

“That’s all.” Tatiana avoided his gaze, her tone deliberately relaxed, even somewhat weary. “I’m tired, really tired. I want to go upstairs and rest.”

Before he could speak again, she turned and strode quickly toward the stairs. Her steps were no longer unsteady; instead, they carried a resolute, escapist speed.

"Tatiana!" Quaukmoth's alarm bells rang, and he instinctively took a step forward.

Tatiana had already rushed up the stairs, shouting without turning her head, "Don't follow me! Let me be alone! I'm fine! Really!"

She stormed into the second-floor bedroom and slammed the door shut with a loud bang! Immediately following was the clear, cold click of the lock coming shut from the inside!

The sound was like an ice pick, instantly piercing through Kuukmot's last shred of hope!
He had a sudden sense of foreboding.

Like a beast that has lost its cubs, he rushed frantically toward the stairs, taking three steps at a time to reach the second floor, and slammed his head against the tightly closed door with all his might!
boom!boom!boom! !

"Tatiana!"

"Tatiana! Please, open the door, open the door and talk."

The sturdy wooden door groaned in pain under his impact, the frame vibrated, but the latch remained exceptionally secure.

"Open the door! Tatiana! Open the door!!!" he roared, pounding the door with his fists, his knuckles cracking and bleeding profusely, but he was completely unaware.

Staring wide-eyed, shouting.

There was no response; the room was deathly silent.

The deathly silence was more despairing than any scream.

With a howl, and drawing strength from who knows where, Quaukmoth took a step back, then slammed his shoulder and the weight of his entire body against the door lock with a frenzied, suicidal thud!

Click!

A sickening cracking sound rang out!
The door lock broke, and the door slammed open inwards with tremendous inertia!

Quaukmot staggered into the room.

The bedroom was empty; the chair in front of the dressing table was overturned on the floor, and the door to the ensuite bathroom was ajar.

He stumbled and lunged toward the half-open door, then shoved it open!

The scene before him made his eyes widen in shock!
Tatiana slumped onto the cold floor tiles, her back against the bathtub.

Her head was tilted slightly to one side, her face contorted in pain, her eyes wide open. A thick, semi-transparent plastic bag was tightly wrapped around her head, its edges carefully and silently tucked around her neck, cutting off all signs of life. A deep cut was made on her wrist, from which blood flowed freely.

Inside the bag, a thin layer of white mist condensed from her last breath, slowly dissipating as her life completely ended, revealing her tightly closed eyes and pale face. The plastic bag resembled a huge, ugly bubble, enveloping her once vibrant life.

"Ah...ah..." Kuukmot made an incoherent hoarse sound from his throat, as if he were being choked. His whole body trembled, and all his strength and support were drained away in an instant.

His knees buckled, and he collapsed heavily onto the cold floor tiles with a thud. The excruciating pain from the impact on his knees was nothing compared to the tearing pain in his heart. Trembling, he crawled to his wife's side.

“No… Tatiana… no…” He finally found his voice, broken and hoarse, filled with a desperate, blood-soaked cry, squeezed out from the depths of his chest like the wail of a dying beast. Hot tears finally burst forth, mingling with the blood from his forehead hitting the door, flowing down his twisted, pained face, making him look utterly wretched.

This is the third most important person in Mexico!

That leader who cared about hundreds of millions of people across the country in front of the television is now crying like a child.

But in his arms was his wife of nearly twenty years.

They've been through thick and thin together, even during their drug-trading days, so why did things turn out this way now that they're finally enjoying the fruits of their labor?

Why, why did it have to be like this?!
He suddenly pressed his forehead against his wife's cold, stiff shoulder, his body convulsing and trembling uncontrollably, his suppressed sobs finally turning into a heart-wrenching wail.

The sound came from inside the villa.

Casare, standing outside, was shocked and felt a pang of sadness. He had a good relationship with the couple, Kuukmot and his wife, but he never expected that everything would change so quickly!

people…

There will always be times when ambitions that don't belong to you arise.

Who can know why?

Even God doesn't know.

His voice was a little hoarse. "Let's go."

As for Kuukmot, Victor will reassign him to a different job.

That's decent enough.

...

(End of this chapter)