Working as a police officer in Mexico.

Chapter 710 Who Can Be the Crown Prince!
In the stuffy, makeshift office in Belize, Li Wenbin suddenly woke up from the pile of documents he was slumped over, clutching his chest as his heart pounded.

He had just had a vivid nightmare: Ma Guoming, covered in blood, lay on a familiar street in Hong Kong, staring intently at him, one hand outstretched, lips moving as if trying to say something, but no sound came out, only gushing blood from the corner of his mouth. That desperate gaze pierced Li Wenbin's dream like an icicle.

"Old horse!"

Li Wenbin let out a low growl, his body trembling violently from the sudden awakening, almost sliding off the chair.

He braced himself against the table with both hands, panting heavily, his forehead covered in cold sweat, and his eyelids twitching uncontrollably.

"Oh shit……"

He rubbed his face vigorously, trying to dispel the sudden palpitations and unease, and muttered to himself, "I must be too tired to have such a terrible dream."

He stood up, his steps unsteady, and prepared to go to the bathroom to wash his face with cold water to fully wake himself up.

Just as he walked around the table piled high with documents, the phone on the cluttered surface suddenly rang.

Li Wenbin's heart tightened for no apparent reason.

He took a deep breath.

"Hello, this is Li Wenbin."

There was a moment of silence on the other end of the phone, followed by a heavy and hoarse voice. It was Superintendent Chen, who was in charge of internal communications at headquarters. His tone was more solemn than ever before: "Wenbin, it's me, Old Chen."

Hearing the tone of the other party's voice, Li Wenbin's unease grew rapidly. "Inspector Chen, what's the matter? Is there a breakthrough in the interrogation of Xie Zhixiong?"

There was another two seconds of silence on the other end of the phone, a brief silence that almost suffocated Li Wenbin.

"Wenbin..." Old Chen's voice carried a hint of difficulty, "Find a place to sit down and calm yourself down."

"What happened?"

"Inspector Ma Guoming was ambushed by gunmen downstairs at the police station this morning and died after being shot four times.

"..."

Li Wenbin stood frozen in place, as if struck by lightning, his mind going completely blank.

He couldn't hear Old Chen's anxious cries of "Hello? Hello? Wenbin? Are you still listening?" on the other end of the phone, nor could he feel his own existence.

I don't know how much time passed, maybe only a few tens of seconds.

The office door was pushed open, and Zheng Chuyao and several members of the task force walked in with the peripheral investigation materials they had just received.

They immediately noticed that Li Wenbin sat motionless in the chair like a clay sculpture, staring blankly ahead.

The group exchanged glances, all seeing surprise and disbelief in each other's eyes.

Just now, although Inspector Li was tired, he was still energetic. How could he have been so energetic in the blink of an eye?

Zheng Chuyao's heart skipped a beat. She cautiously walked to Li Wenbin's side, bent down, and tentatively asked in a very low voice, "Li Sir? What's wrong? Are you too tired? Or are you feeling unwell? Should I call a medical worker for you?"

Li Wenbin seemed not to hear, remaining motionless.

Zheng Chuyao hesitated for a moment, then gently touched his arm: "Li Sir?"

Li Wenbin's body trembled violently, as if he had been startled awake from a frozen state. He turned his head very slowly to look at Zheng Chuyao, his eyes filled with immense grief and a kind of almost insane ferocity.

“Kenneth Ma…”

“Inspector Ma Guoming…” Li Wenbin’s voice trembled uncontrollably, filled with overwhelming rage. He finally roared, “He’s been killed! This very morning! Downstairs at the police station! He was shot dead by a gunman!!”

"what?!"

"Officer Ma?!"

"How can this be?!"

The office erupted in chaos. Everyone was stunned, their faces filled with disbelief and shock!
Just hours ago, they were cheering with excitement over the amazing news that Kenneth Ma had captured Tse Chi-hung, and discussing how to use this lead to break the deadlock between Belize and Mexico! How could he be gone in the blink of an eye?!

Zheng Chuyao was so shocked that she covered her mouth, and her eyes instantly turned red.

Li Wenbin abruptly stood up, his body trembling slightly with excitement and anger. His eyes were bloodshot, like those of an enraged lion. His gaze swept over each shocked team member, and his voice, forced through clenched teeth, carried a bloody undertone:

"An ambush! An assassination attempt in broad daylight, right in front of the police station!"

He slammed his fist on the table again, roaring, "What the hell is this if not silencing them?! What the hell is this if not revenge?!"

He abruptly pointed to the photos of Xie Zhile and Chen Yaoxing on the whiteboard, his fingers trembling violently with extreme anger:
"It must be them, it must be Xie Zhile's men."

"Old Ma, I just dreamt about him. I dreamt he was covered in blood and reached out to me. I fucking... I didn't even think about it. I actually..."

He couldn't speak anymore.

The office was deathly silent, save for Li Wenbin's heavy, suppressed breathing and the low sobs of several female team members.

Just then, there was a gentle knock on the conference room door.

Everyone instinctively looked over.

Belize Police Chief Schultz stood in the doorway, his tall frame almost completely blocking the doorway.

His face initially wore a routine seriousness, but as his gaze swept across each face in the room, filled with grief and bewilderment, he keenly sensed the extreme unease in the atmosphere, and that seriousness instantly turned into astonishment and confusion.

“Lee?” Schultz’s English was heavily accented with the local accent. He hesitated before speaking. “What’s wrong with you? What happened?”

No one answered immediately.

In the end, it was a team member closest to the door who, with a choked voice in English, said, "Director Schultz, one of our colleagues in Hong Kong has just sacrificed his life."

Upon hearing this, Schultz opened his mouth as if searching for suitable words, but in the end, he only let out a heavy sigh and muttered words of comfort: "I am very sorry to hear this news. Please accept my condolences."

Li Wenbin rubbed his face vigorously, almost as if he were scrubbing off a layer of skin, and then suddenly stood up.

His eyes were still red, and he turned to Schultz, his voice hoarse from trying so hard to control himself:
"Chief Schultz, do you have any new news to share?"

Schultz nodded, went into the room, and closed the door behind him.

"Yes, Lee, we just received an intelligence briefing from the Royal Canadian Mounted Police (RCMP) through Interpol channels."

"While monitoring a local drug dealer, they inadvertently overheard a conversation between members of the local gang, the Hells Angels."

"Hells Angels?" Li Wenbin frowned. He had heard of this name before; they were one of the most powerful motorcycle gangs in Canada and even North America.

"Yes."

"The conversation mentioned that a large shipment of goods, about two tons, will soon enter the United States from the Canadian border, but the specific route and method are still unclear."

Schultz paused, then emphasized, "In their conversation, they explicitly mentioned the Three Leaf Society, and the name of a key figure—Ye Jinghua."

"Ye Jinghua?" Li Wenbin's eyes sharpened. "Ye Zhenli's cousin?"

"That's right. The RCMP's analysis suggests that Ye Jinghua's secret trip to Canada was most likely to personally coordinate the transportation of this staggering amount of drugs, or to finalize some key cooperation details with the Hells Angels."

He continued, "The Mexican police have officially requested cooperation from the Royal Canadian Mounted Police, asking them to immediately monitor Ye Jinghua once her whereabouts are confirmed, and to make a decisive arrest if they have sufficient evidence or if she attempts to leave the country. This could be a major breakthrough for us to uncover the connection between the San Ye Society and the American Drug Network." However, upon hearing this seemingly exciting news, Li Wenbin showed no joy whatsoever.

He looked up, staring directly at Schulz, and asked a question that made everyone's hearts sink:

"Chief Schultz, are you sure the Royal Canadian Mounted Police is clean? Are you sure their surveillance and operational plans won't be infiltrated by drug dealers or leaked by some 'problematic' individuals within the organization?"

Schultz was taken aback by the pointed question, then a look of helplessness appeared on his face. He spread his hands: "Li, of course I can't be sure about your question. No law enforcement agency in the world can guarantee its purity 100%, especially when facing the huge corrupting power of drugs. The RCMP has indeed had problems in the past."

"but--"

He emphasized, "This is one of the most direct and highest-level leads we have so far. We can't just give up because of potential unverifiable risks, can we? We have to give it a try."

“Give it a try…” Li Wenbin repeated in a low voice.

But he quickly suppressed the emotions that surged up again.

“You’re right, Director Schultz, we can’t let this opportunity slip away.”

"If we can successfully arrest Ye Jinghua, we might be able to uncover even deeper secrets than Xie Zhixiong, directly touching upon the core finances and Asian supply chain of the Ye Zhenli Group."

He paused, turned around, and his eyes flashed with a resolute light: "In addition, I will immediately contact the Hong Kong headquarters and formally request, on the grounds of cooperation between the Belize task force and Mexico, that Hong Kong consider extraditing Xie Zhixiong to Mexico for trial."

"Hong Kong's legal system is so comprehensive!"

Li Wenbin's tone was filled with barely suppressed sarcasm and anger, "So perfect that it allows someone like Xie Zhixiong to hire top lawyers with impunity, so perfect that it allows him to stall for time, so perfect that it allows him to arrogantly threaten the families of police officers! So perfect that it gives the behind-the-scenes thugs time to send people to wipe out our best police officers!"

His voice rose again, but he quickly regained control, staring at Schultz, and said, word by word, "Mexico is different."

Schultz opened his mouth, "Lee, Mexico is also a country ruled by law..."

"We also have courts."

Li Wenbin looked at him with a strange expression.

When have Mexican drug traffickers ever been to court?
Schultz looked somewhat embarrassed and said in a low voice, "We really do have laws."

……

Mexico City, Prime Minister's Office.

Mexican Police Minister Roberto Bill (placed a thick document on the table and addressed Casare in front of him):
“Mr. Prime Minister, this is an annual summary and analysis report of cases involving ‘drug traffickers’ and ‘lynching’ over the past three years.”

"Get to the point, Robert."

"The legacy of the 'no trial, free hunt' directive issued early in our administration to deal with the out-of-control war on drug traffickers is seriously eroding the legal system we are trying to rebuild."

He emphasized, “According to statistics, in the past year alone, in more than 300 criminal cases recorded nationwide, the only defense used by the perpetrators after their arrest was ‘I killed a drug dealer.’ They could not produce any evidence, and many of them killed out of personal vendetta, robbery, or other motives, and then simply labeled the perpetrators as drug dealers. The police and courts in many areas are under tremendous pressure, finding it difficult to distinguish between legitimate and illegitimate cases and to strictly handle them according to the law. This has led to rampant vigilante justice, an escalating cycle of violence, and a dangerously rising level of public tolerance and even expectations for ‘extrajudicial justice.’”

Oh dear, the bullets fired back then have finally come back to haunt us!

Police Undersecretary Eberstein then added, “Mr. Prime Minister, we understand the unavoidable circumstances of that particular period. When a knife is held to one's throat, procedural justice is impossible. However, now that the knife is removed, and we are in this position, we represent the nation. A nation cannot be built on the unspoken rule of ‘violence begets violence’ indefinitely. It’s like…”

He searched for a fitting analogy: "It's like a person who drinks dirty water to survive, but can't keep drinking it, otherwise their body will collapse from the inside out. We must reverse this trend and bring the power of law enforcement and the power of adjudication back into the legal framework. Otherwise, what is the essential difference between us and the chaos we are fighting against?"

Casare nodded in agreement.

"It is time for 'law' rather than 'bullets' to take the lead in order. We need to make a clear and public statement and gradually abolish that vague and dangerous authorization. Otherwise, every wrongful conviction and every instance of lynching will ultimately be held accountable by our government and will damage the image of stability and the rule of law that Mr. Victor is trying to build."

"I see."

Casare finally turned his gaze back to the report. "Keep this document; I will report it to Mr. Victor."

The two police ministers exchanged a glance and nodded.

As long as they can listen to it, that's fine.

Mexico is now a recognized nation-state, not an armed group, so it naturally needs to become more formalized.

After the two ministers left, Casare took a sip of water, picked up the documents, and headed up to his office on the top floor.

At the top of the stairs, he encountered Rohus Misch, the Deputy Director of the Secret Service and his personal bodyguard, and asked softly, "How are you feeling, sir?"

"Today was good. Caesar was praised by his teacher at school, and the teacher even gave him a little red flower and wrote a word of praise for him."

Caesar…

Viktor's son with his mistress.

Casare felt somewhat relieved after hearing Rohus Misch's words.

He composed himself and gently knocked on the heavy oak door.

"Come in," came Victor's steady voice from inside.

Casare pushed open the door and entered.

He saw Viktor with a pure smile, examining the small red flower carefully made of red crepe paper in his hand.

In his other hand, he was holding a greeting card that was clearly handmade.

“Casare, you’ve come at the right time.” Victor looked up, his smile unchanged, and waved to him. “Look, this was written by Caesar’s teacher.”

Casare quickly stepped forward and respectfully accepted the greeting card.

The greeting card was made with a childlike touch, featuring a sun, grass, and a grinning little boy, with the words written next to it in slightly childish but neat handwriting:

To Caesar's father:
Caesar has excelled at school. He not only quickly mastered today's arithmetic lesson but also proactively helped classmates who were struggling in group activities, demonstrating excellent comprehension and a kind and helpful nature. He is quick-witted, curious, and a helpful assistant to the teacher and a good friend to his classmates. We are proud to have such an outstanding student. This little red flower is a reward for his fine character. May he continue to maintain this, grow healthily, and have a bright future!
—Anna, teacher at Montessori Sunshine Kindergarten

Casare looked at the effusive praise on the greeting card and a smile naturally appeared on his face. He nodded in agreement, saying, "That is indeed a very high compliment. Caesar is intelligent and kind, and he will surely be extraordinary in the future."

Viktor carefully placed the little red flower back in a prominent position on the table, his tone carrying a complex mix of emotion and relief: "Yes, when I was a kid, I was rolling around on the streets, crawling and rolling around. I hardly ever touched a book. I was lucky if I could even write my name clearly. I never expected Caesar to be such a well-behaved kid."

He paused, a hint of longing in his voice, "Study hard, be sensible, walk the right path, and you will definitely have a bright future, better than our generation."

Casare nodded in deep agreement, and was about to present the documents in his hand to report the thorny issues brought by the police minister.

Just then, Viktor suddenly spoke again, as if asking casually:
"Casare, between Caesar and Brutus, who do you think is more obedient?"

The question was asked so casually, yet it made Casare's blood seem to freeze instantly!
His smile froze, and a chill ran from the soles of his feet to the top of his head.

Brutus... he was the legitimate son of Victor's legal wife. Although young, his status was legitimate, representing a different future and power structure.

This question isn't really asking which of the two children is more well-behaved.

This is clearly asking which of the two children, who share his blood but represent different paths and backgrounds, is more to his liking in the heart of this strongman who is shaping Mexico's future.
Behind this lies an unfathomable family hierarchy, a vague outline of the future power structure, and a taboo topic that could condemn any insider to eternal damnation.

Although Mexican democracy…

But it's like an ancient feudal emperor asking his ministers:

Who looks more like the crown prince!
Is there a way to answer that?
Casare's head is as big as an ox!
……

(End of this chapter)