Working as a police officer in Mexico.

Chapter 711 Is the Crown Prince really that attractive?

Casare's back was instantly soaked with cold sweat.

Dead brain, turn around!
Spin it faster!!!
"Boss."

He carefully chose his words, “Caesar is exceptionally intelligent and hardworking, so he is naturally well-behaved and sensible. Brutus is still young and a bit stubborn, but like father, like son. His competitive spirit is exactly the same as yours. Both children are good children, each with their own merits.”

His words were impeccable, praising both sides without making any specific comparisons.

Upon hearing this, Victor's smile faded slightly. He glanced at Casare with a deep look in his eyes, but didn't press the matter further. He simply looked at the greeting card and murmured as if talking to himself, "Each has its own merits... Yes, the road ahead is long. Let's see how they walk it themselves."

He waved his hand, seemingly losing interest in continuing the conversation. "Speak, what is it?"

Casare breathed a sigh of relief, knowing that he had temporarily passed this hurdle. He quickly handed over the documents in his hand, his expression becoming serious again: "Boss, Minister Robert and Undersecretary Eberstein just came by. This is their report regarding the unresolved issues from the previous... Free Hunting Order."

Viktor took the document and quickly flipped through it, his brow furrowing more and more as he read.

"The rampant use of vigilante justice and the abuse of drug dealers' names put immense pressure on the judicial system..." He muttered the key words in the report, his face gradually darkening.

"Oh shit!"

Viktor cursed, stood up and walked to the window, looking down at the orderly Presidential Palace Square. "Back then, in order to survive, we had to let the wolves run free and let them bite the hyenas. Now the hyenas aren't all dead, but the wolves have tasted blood and can't stop their claws. They've turned around and started to harm the sheep."

That's correct...

Once the ant has tasted power, it thinks it is a god who controls life and death!
There are too many examples to list.

He turned around, his eyes sharp as he looked at Casare: "What do Robert and the others think?"

"The two ministers believe that it is time to tighten the reins again, clearly abolish the vague authorization, and bring law enforcement and judicial powers back into the legal framework. Otherwise, in the long run, the country will cease to be a country, and the government's credibility will be completely lost."

Viktor was silent for a moment, then slowly nodded.

"We can no longer rest on our past laurels and govern a normal country with methods used in extraordinary times. Tell Robert and Eberstein to draft a formal decree that explicitly abolishes all illegal and tacitly granted extrajudicial powers of execution. At the same time, have the Department of Justice cooperate in selecting several egregious cases of lynching for public trials and severe sentences! I want everyone to see that times have changed! Now, it is the era of the law!"

I had no choice back then because I was a separatist regime. Now it's different. I'm the legitimate one, and I don't want others to do anything that "violates the constitution."

Hey, he's reformed.

"Yes! Boss!"

Viktor added, "Internal reforms also need to be strengthened. The police system, the military—anyone who still harbors the old lawless mentality, thinking they can do whatever they want just by following me, Viktor, then let them get out! Or, send them straight to jail!"

"understand!"

Having finished explaining the important matters, Casare dared not linger any longer and respectfully withdrew from the office.

Only after closing the heavy oak door and walking to the end of the deserted corridor did Casare finally let out a long sigh of relief, feeling a sticky sensation on his back.

That question about the child just now was even more mentally taxing than dealing with an armed robber.

He wiped the cold sweat from his forehead, composed himself, and then walked toward his office.

He had just sat down in his office and hadn't even had time to catch his breath when his personal cell phone rang, displaying the name "Hayriel" on the screen.

Casare unconsciously smiled and answered the phone.

"Honey, are you off work yet? I cooked for you tonight and made your favorite red wine braised beef."

On the other end of the phone, Hailier Jarvis's voice was gentle and sweet, her Spanish with a French accent adding a unique charm.

Casare felt a warmth in his heart; the fatigue and tension of the busy day seemed to dissipate considerably. "Just finished work, about to leave. What brings you to such a cheerful mood today?"

"I wanted to surprise you, so come back soon, I'm waiting for you." Hailier giggled and hung up the phone.

Casare packed his things in a good mood, gave his secretary a few instructions, and left the presidential residence.

His residence was not far from the official residence; it was a high-end apartment building with tight security. After parking his car, he walked briskly upstairs.

The maid had already opened the door and was waiting.

"Sir, Madam is in the kitchen," the maid said respectfully.

Casare nodded, took off his coat and handed it to the maid, then walked towards the kitchen with a smile, smelling the aroma of food in the air.

In the kitchen, Haley Alvis stood with her back to the door, intently watching the stew pot on the stove. She wore a form-fitting silk loungewear that accentuated her graceful curves, and her long, golden hair was casually pulled back, revealing her fair and elegant neck.

Casare felt a surge of warmth in his heart, and he walked over quietly, gently embracing her from behind, resting his chin on her shoulder, and inhaling the fragrance of her hair.

"Mmm...it smells so good," he murmured, unsure whether he was referring to the food or the person.

Hailier was startled by him, then giggled and nudged him lightly with her elbow, "Stop fooling around, you'll delay my cooking, the beef won't taste good if it's overcooked."

Casare chuckled, not letting go but instead pulling even tighter around her, his gaze falling on a newly appeared diamond necklace around her neck, sparkling under the kitchen light.

"A new necklace? It's beautiful, it suits you perfectly," he complimented casually.

Hailey touched the main diamond, her tone tinged with pride and joy: "Isn't it beautiful? I just bought it this afternoon."

"Oh? Which store? You have good taste," Casare asked casually.

As Hailey stirred the beef in the pot, she said, "I didn't choose it myself. This afternoon I went shopping with Mrs. Christa Schroeder, and she helped me choose it. She said this one would be perfect for me."

"Christa Schroeder?!"

Casare's smile froze instantly, and the arm around Heliel's waist unconsciously loosened, his body straightening slightly.

"How did you end up shopping with her?" Casare's voice unconsciously carried a hint of nervousness. "When did you become so familiar with her?"

Hailier turned around, looking at Casare's suddenly changed expression with some confusion. "What's wrong? Mrs. Christa came to the house a few times looking for you, but you weren't home, so I received her. She's a very kind person, and after chatting a few times, we felt quite compatible. She invited me out for coffee and shopping, and I couldn't very well refuse, could I? We got to know each other after a while."

Casare's heart sank.

Krista Schroeder! Caesar's birth mother! Victor's mistress!

This woman is definitely not as simple and harmless as she appears. She approached Haliel, even going shopping together and giving her gifts? How could there be no ulterior motive behind all this?

Casare's brow furrowed tightly, alarm bells ringing in his mind.

He was no longer just a lowly prison guard who only had to obey orders; he was a confidant of Mexico's de facto ruler and the country's prime minister!

The top Mexican elites, carrying the weight of hundreds of millions of people on their shoulders, are the "Xiao He" of Mexico's new regime.

To put it bluntly, he was a man who would leave his mark on world history, and he was very politically astute.

Was Krista trying to use Haliel to get closer to him? Was she testing his feelings? Or...?

What was she trying to gain for Caesar, and how was she trying to get herself on her side?
impossible! Absolutely impossible!
Casare immediately dismissed the idea in his mind.

Legally and orthodoxly speaking, Brutus is Victor's legitimate son, the rightful heir, and also his godson!
I must stand on the side of Belsaria and Brutus no matter what.

Getting too close to Krista in private is playing with fire! If Victor or Belsaria finds out, the consequences will be unimaginable!
“Listen, Haliel,” Casare said, pressing his hand on his wife’s shoulder, his tone more serious than ever before. “From now on, try not to get too close to Krista Schroeder. If she asks you out again, find an excuse to decline. If she comes to the house and I’m there, I’ll greet her. If I’m not there, just say I’m not available to see guests and that she should come to my office if she needs anything.”

Haley was startled by his serious expression, her blue eyes filled with confusion: "Why? Casare, Mrs. Christa, she..."

"No reason!"

Casare interrupted her, his voice somewhat stern, "There are some things you don't understand, just listen to me! Remember, stay away from her, it's better for us and for her!"

Seeing the hurt look on Hailier's face, his heart softened. He softened his tone, pulled her into his arms, and whispered, "Darling, politics is complicated. I don't want you to get involved. Just enjoy shopping, painting, and taking care of the house. Leave the rest to me, okay?"

Hairiel nodded and nestled in his arms, but her eyes were narrowed, and she appeared very calm.

……

The following day, in a luxurious yet somewhat deserted villa in the La Condez district of Mexico City.

Krista Schroeder, dressed in a Chanel suit, was lounging on the sofa, having just finished a phone call.

The carefully maintained mask of kindness and gentleness on her face vanished the moment she hung up the phone, leaving only a somber expression.

Haile Javier, Casare's wife, declined her invitation to afternoon tea.

The reason given was "feeling somewhat unwell"?
You are kidding me!!

We went shopping together yesterday.

It must be Casare! That most loyal hound of Victor's must have sniffed something and warned his wife to stay away from him.

Just then, a child's silvery laughter and a dog's excited barking broke the silence inside from the garden outside. Krista frowned, stood up, and walked to the window.

Her five-year-old son, Caesar, was running happily on the lawn. A small dog, which looked like an ordinary mixed-breed dog, was wagging its tail and following at his feet, trying to bite the strip of cloth he was waving in his hand.

Caesar's little face was beaming with a joy that Christa rarely saw.

That smile stung Krista's eyes.

“Caesar!!”

She flung open the glass door and shouted sharply, her voice piercing the tranquility of the garden.

Caesar was startled by her, stopped in his tracks, his smile instantly froze, and he looked at his mother with some helplessness.

The little dog stopped what it was doing, tilted its head, and whimpered, not understanding what was going on.

Krista strode over, not even glancing at the little dog as if it were just an eyesore of trash, and kicked it hard with her pointed high-heeled foot!
"Ouch——!"

With a piercing howl, the puppy, no more than a few months old, was kicked into the air, tumbling and falling three or four meters away before landing on the grass. It curled up in a ball, groaning in pain, and struggled for a few moments but couldn't get up.

"Mom!" Caesar cried out, rushing over to check on the puppy.

"stop!"

Krista stopped him. "Put that filthy thing down! Who gave you permission to play with this kind of wild dog of unknown origin?!"

Caesar was startled by his mother's gaze, his feet rooted to the spot. He looked at the trembling, whimpering puppy in the distance, his big eyes quickly filling with tears, but he stubbornly held them back.

He whispered, his voice trembling with tears, "It's not dirty, it's very well-behaved, it was born to the gardener's dog..."

"I don't care whose it is!"

Krista interrupted him, "Have you finished your piano lesson today? Have you done the pre-reading assignments your Latin American history teacher gave you? Have you memorized all the names and relationships of those important figures that I asked you to memorize?"

Caesar lowered his head, his eyes darting away, his voice barely audible: "I don't have a mother yet, I don't want to read those books, those names are so hard to remember... I want to..."

"What do you want? What do you want?!"

Christa's voice suddenly rose. She stepped forward, snatched the dog-teasing cloth from Caesar's hand, threw it hard on the ground, then squatted down, grabbed Caesar's thin shoulders tightly, her nails almost digging into his flesh. "Caesar, tell me, what should you be thinking right now?!"

The pain in his shoulder finally brought tears to Cather's eyes. He sobbed, but dared not cry out loud, and said haltingly, "I want to draw. I want to have a puppy like other kids. And other things, like... like my little brother Brutus..."

“Brutus?!” Upon hearing this name, Krista was like a powder keg ignited, her eyes instantly erupting with an almost insane rage. She raised her hand, and with a “smack,” a crisp slap landed on Caesar’s fair and tender face.

Caesar was stunned by the beating; half of his cheek quickly swelled up. He covered his face, staring at his mother in disbelief, his sobs choking in his throat.

"Useless trash! You good-for-nothing!" Krista stared intently at her son. "You think that if you don't fight back, that bitch's child will let you off the hook?! Huh?! I stole her husband, and she wishes I were dead. When her son grows up and becomes powerful, do you think he'll talk about brotherly love? He'll crush us mother and son into the mud without hesitation! He'll crush us like ants!"

Her voice trembled with agitation, tinged with a hysterical ferocity: "Look me in the eyes, Caesar! Tell me, do you believe Brutus will show you mercy when he grows up?!"

Caesar was terrified by the horrifying madness in his mother's eyes. He shook his head frantically, tears streaming down his face. "No, Mother... Brutus... he shared candy with me last time, he said I was his brother... we're very close..."

"Honey? That's all an illusion! It's an illusion that Belsaria taught him to use to lull you into a false sense of security!" Krista roared, standing up abruptly, her chest heaving violently. She took several deep breaths to barely suppress the murderous rage that threatened to burst from her chest.

Looking at her son's swollen cheeks and eyes filled with fear and tears, she felt a fleeting, almost imperceptible pang of pain, but it was quickly overwhelmed by a stronger will to survive and ambition.

She cannot be soft-hearted, not even for a moment.

She bent down, ignoring the puppy's weak struggles and whimpers, and roughly lifted it up. The puppy hung limply in the air, emitting pitiful whimpers.

"Listen, Caesar."

"This country, this land, doesn't just belong to that boy named Brutus. It was built by your father! You should have a share in it! You must fight for it, grab it, and learn everything that will earn your father's respect. Only then will what belongs to you in the future truly be yours! Do you understand?!"

Caesar looked at the dying puppy in his mother's arms, and at her unwavering gaze. Overwhelmed by immense fear and a weight he couldn't comprehend at his age, he was filled with a profound sense of dread.

He opened his mouth, wanting to plead for the puppy, wanting to say that he really didn't want to learn those boring history and politics, wanting to say that he just wanted to paint quietly.

But in the end, all the words stuck in his throat.

He lowered his head, his small shoulders slumped, and answered in an almost inaudible voice, "...Ming, I understand."

"Louder!" Christa shouted.

"I understand!" Caesar suddenly raised his head, almost shouting, and tears welled up in his eyes again.

Krista was slightly satisfied. Holding the puppy, she gestured with her chin towards the main building of the villa: "Now, immediately, get back to your study! Learn everything you're supposed to learn today, word for word! I'll check before dinner, and if you still don't understand..."

She shook the puppy in her hand, the threat obvious.

Caesar glanced one last time at the little dog whose fate was uncertain, his eyes filled with helplessness. He dared not linger any longer, turned around, and dragged his heavy steps toward the huge villa that made him feel utterly empty.

The sun was still shining brightly, and the flowers and plants in the garden were still vibrant, but in the heart of this five-year-old child, it seemed as if a layer of gloom that could never be wiped away had been cast.

Why? Why can other classmates keep their favorite dogs at home and play freely, while he has to endure even this small joy as a luxury? As a sin?
An emotion called "disgust," like a tiny vine, quietly sprouted in his young heart for the first time.

He loathed the empty house, loathed the endless homework, loathed his mother's relentless pressure and the "struggles" he couldn't understand...

He even began to feel a growing aversion to his "father," whom he had only met a few times, whom his mother always talked about, yet who seemed so distant.

If it weren't for him, if it weren't for his special identity, would I not have to suffer all this?
Krista watched her son's retreating figure disappear behind the door, a complex emotion flickering in her eyes. She looked down at the puppy in her arms, still twitching slightly, her eyes filled with no pity, only a hint of annoyance.

"Someone come here!" she called out.

A woman dressed as a maid rushed out from the side door, bowing respectfully: "Madam."

Krista casually tossed the puppy to a servant as if it were a piece of trash, saying, "Get rid of this filthy thing and don't let it appear in front of Master Caesar again."

"And also, get that gardener out of here!"

"Yes, ma'am."

The maid quickly caught the puppy, held it carefully in her arms, and retreated without asking a question.

Krista Schroeder stood in the middle of the empty lawn, the sunlight casting a long, lonely shadow of her.

She knew she had no way out. For Caesar's sake, and for her own, she had to keep walking down this thorny path until she either reached the summit or fell into the abyss.

"My son can also be the heir to Mexico!"

……

Meanwhile, in a small conference room inside the National Palace in downtown Mexico City.

Casare presided over the meeting from the head of the table, a thick stack of documents laid out before him. Police Minister Robert Beal and President Anatoly Lunacharski sat on either side of him, along with Justice Minister Harris (the old man from the prison).

"The draft law on abolishing the default directive to 'free hunting' and the subsequent judicial reform plan has been initially completed."

Secretary Roberts handed a document to Victor, “We plan to proceed in three steps: First, the Presidential Office and the Department of Police will jointly issue a formal executive order explicitly abolishing any form of extrajudicial authorization for executions, emphasizing that all law enforcement actions must strictly adhere to the Code of Criminal Procedure. Second, the Department of Justice will lead a nationwide, particularly in several states where violent conflicts have been severe, to publicly try a number of egregious cases of lynching and murder under the guise of eliminating drug dealers, imposing severe sentences and broadcasting the proceedings on national television and major media outlets as a deterrent. Third, a three-month disciplinary crackdown will be launched within the police system and the military, focusing on identifying and eliminating those who still believe in the supremacy of violence and disregard legal procedures.”

Casare listened quietly. "How big is the potential backlash from the public and within our own ranks?"

Harris: "There will definitely be dissenting voices, especially in some areas that have suffered greatly from drug traffickers. People are used to the temporary peace brought by violence, and they may not understand or even resist the tightening of legal procedures. Some local law enforcement groups may also have a backlash."

He paused, lowering his voice slightly: "As for our internal military and some police systems, there are indeed a group of officers and police officers who are accustomed to the old model. They were promoted based on their combat achievements and decisiveness. Suddenly asking them to strictly abide by cumbersome legal procedures might lead some to outwardly comply but inwardly resist, or to slack off."

"Back then, we had no choice but to fight those bastards to the death! But now? Now we're sitting in the National Palace, managing a country that needs to function properly! We're not fucking bandits anymore!"

Casare's voice echoed in the conference room, carrying an unquestionable authority: "Tell those who have grievances that times have changed! Before, we were rebels, revolutionaries, and could act lawlessly! But now, we are the rulers! The builders and maintainers of order! Anyone who still wants to act lawlessly, get the hell out of here! Or, I'll personally send him to prison."

His gaze swept over Robert and Harris: "A backlash? Suppress it if there is! Don't understand? Then spread the word until they do! Anyone who dares to disagree at this time, perfect, use them as an example! Make an example of them!"

“Yes!” Robert and Harris perked up and answered in unison.

"Anatoli, you personally oversee the signing and dissemination of the executive order. I want every corner of the country to know within three days that Mexico has changed! From now on, the law will rule!"

President Anatoly Lunacharski also nodded.

Obeying the law is what makes a good Mexican.

(End of this chapter)