Working as a police officer in Mexico.

Chapter 718 By what right do you judge me?

Fuck!
Fuck!
Fuck!
This is an attempt to force us to our deaths.

The heavy, suppressed breathing of dozens of officials.

But seeing the corpse on the ground sent chills down my spine, and I calmed down considerably.

With the soldiers around holding "calming devices," who would dare to cause trouble?

I just feel very sad...

We are Mexican officials, is it wrong for us to be greedy?

Of course, I wouldn't dare say that.

Felix González returned to his seat, as if he had merely swatted two buzzing flies.

He picked up the pack of cigarettes again, took out another one, lit it using the butt of the previous one, and took a deep drag.

"Fifty seconds left."

Time ticked by, each second feeling like torture.

The officials kept their heads down, internally struggling with a dilemma.

Turning yourself in? That means admitting to a crime, which could mean a long prison sentence or even death, but at least you'll survive for now!
Wait for Felix to call out the name? Look at the fate of those three colleagues on the ground—they were executed immediately and without hesitation!
If you have something to hide, you won't be able to sit still.

Who can stand not telling?
The crime is serious, but who knows what's written in that notebook?
Finally, with only a dozen seconds left on the countdown, a middle-aged man with gray hair sitting in the corner shakily raised his hand.

He was a deputy in the state education department with little power, but he was clearly involved in something.

"I...I confessed voluntarily..."

His voice was dry and hoarse, filled with despair. "A year ago... for the expansion project of the state university's new campus... I received $150,000 from the contractor... and relaxed the standards for material acceptance..."

Felix raised his eyelids, glanced at him, and said nothing. He simply picked up his pen and lightly made a checkmark next to a name in the folder.

This simple action made the old man tremble, but it also gave a glimmer of hope to the others who were still hesitating.

"I...I'll confess too!"

Another middle-aged man stood up. He was a section chief in the transportation bureau. "I abused my power to illegally issue more than twenty special permits for my brother-in-law's transportation company, evading huge amounts of taxes..."

"And I…"

"I admit..."

Once the breach is opened, the collapse will be like an avalanche.

One after another, officials stood up and confessed their crimes, big or small, in trembling voices.

Embezzlement, bribery, abuse of power, and transfer of benefits—one case after another—came from the mouths of these seemingly respectable "local officials," revealing the shocking corruption in Michoacán.

Felix listened quietly, occasionally making notes on the folder, his face expressionless, showing neither anger nor disdain, as if he were listening to a report that had nothing to do with him.

After the last official who voluntarily confessed finished speaking, the meeting room fell silent once again.

Felix closed the folder with a soft "click".

He glanced down and slowly said, "Very good. Those who confessed voluntarily will have their cases recorded. Your fate will be decided by the court based on the subsequent investigation and your level of cooperation."

He paused for a moment, then said, "Congratulations, you're still alive."

These words brought a slight sense of relief to those who had voluntarily confessed; at least for the time being, they wouldn't be shot.

Then, Felix's gaze passed over them and landed on several people who had kept their heads down the whole time, without saying a word, but whose bodies were stiff.

These individuals are either guilty of heinous crimes and know that speaking out would lead to their deaths, or they still harbor illusions of escaping punishment, or they have deeper connections behind them and dare not speak out.

“José Mario,” he read out a name.

The person named was a middle-aged man with frameless glasses who looked quite refined. He was the governor's chief secretary and one of the real power figures.

The governor standing next to him was also looking at him in shock!
Wang Defa?
What have you been doing behind my back?

“Sir…” he tried to say.

Felix didn't give him a chance and read directly from the document: "According to the testimonies of Diego Rojas and the recently arrested lieutenant governor's secretary, you are the main contact between the governor and local gangs and smuggling groups. Over the past two years, more than $80 million in illicit funds have flowed through your hands. The real cause of the warehouse explosion in the dock area last year, which killed seventeen people, was the illegal storage of smuggled chemicals. You received advance warnings but suppressed the evacuation notice in order to cover up the smuggling channels."

"besides…"

"You own two hospitals that are suspected of organ trafficking, is that correct?"

With each sentence he read, José Mario's face paled a little more, and by the time he finished the last sentence, he was trembling like a leaf.

The governor jumped up immediately and threw a punch, yelling, "You son of a bitch, you've been doing all this behind my back!"

The secretary wields considerable power; after all, you have to consider the Buddha's feelings even if you don't respect the monk. Do you think there's no such thing as human relationships in foreign countries?

Felix nodded.

Major Marcos, standing behind him, immediately understood and waved his hand.

Two guards strode forward, ruthlessly dragged the limp José Mario from his seat, roughly handcuffed him, and then dragged him out of the conference room like a dead dog.

Then, in the hallway, we heard gunshots!

Bang bang bang—

All the officials inside the room trembled.

Having dealt with this "tough nut to crack," Felix's gaze shifted again, glancing at the governor, who remained seated beside the head of the table, his face ashen and his expression absent.

“Mr. Governor”.

The governor was startled.

"Clean up here."

Felix pointed to the corpse and bloodstains on the ground, his tone as if instructing a servant to clean up, "Then, prepare a detailed state government work report, especially on public safety, fiscal expenditures, and minority policies, and send it to my temporary office before midnight tonight."

"it is good!"

Without saying another word, Felix left the conference room, which was filled with an atmosphere of death and fear, with his guards.

The remaining people were completely bewildered. They looked at each other, none of them believing they had escaped alive.
The door closed behind him, and he could faintly hear suppressed sobbing and vomiting coming from inside.

In the corridor, soldiers stood at attention, rifles at the ready, their eyes alert. Felix walked down the empty corridor, his military boots making a clear, cold, hard echo on the floor tiles.

As he walked, he instructed Major Marcos, who was following beside him: "Search the homes of the people on the list and arrest their entire families."

“Understood, sir!” Major Marcos replied in a deep voice, a sharp glint in his eyes. He understood what “necessary measures” meant; there was no need for mercy towards these parasites.

Of course the law can judge…

But now that Victor has given him "power," he naturally intends to uproot all the roots in Michoacán.

……

Three military trucks and two jeeps equipped with machine guns violently rammed through the ornate wrought-iron gate and rolled over the meticulously manicured lawn.
The soldiers jumped off the vehicle like wolves, led by an army captain.

Inside the villa, the wife of Finance Minister Salcedo, a bejeweled middle-aged woman, was trying to stuff some jewelry into a Louis Vuitton suitcase.

Her teenage son, dressed in designer sportswear, hid behind his mother with a terrified expression.

"What are you doing? This is trespassing! My husband is the Finance Minister!" the woman shrieked, trying to maintain her last shred of dignity.

"Your husband?" The captain sneered, kicking over the expensive crystal coffee table in the center of the living room. The sound of shattering glass startled the woman. "Your husband was in the city hall conference room just now. His head was split open. His body is probably cold by now!"

The woman instantly turned pale and collapsed to the ground.

"Search!" the captain waved his hand.

The soldiers immediately scattered and began a frenzied search. They smashed open locked cabinet doors with rifle butts, slashed open expensive leather sofas with bayonets, and dumped the contents of drawers onto the floor. Silk clothes, designer bags, and documents were scattered everywhere.

"Report! Master bedroom safe."

The captain walked over, looked at the heavy safe embedded in the wall, and without saying a word, took a small explosive charge from the soldier next to him.

It was roughly stuffed into the gap.

"Damn it, what password are you looking for!"

"boom!"

With a muffled thud, the safe door was blown open, revealing bundles of US dollars, gold bars, and several velvet boxes filled with jewelry.

The smell of banknote ink mixed with the smell of gunpowder from the explosion.

"Register!" the captain ordered expressionlessly.

In the underground wine cellar, the soldiers discovered even more astonishing things: imported fine wines piled up in every corner, and even a whole wall of cigar coolers.

A soldier roughly ripped open a beautifully packaged wooden crate. Inside, instead of wine, were brand-new AK-47 rifles and pistols wrapped in tarpaulin.

"Heh, quite comprehensive." The scarred captain picked up an AK and pulled the bolt.

Meanwhile, Salcedo's son was dragged out by two soldiers, crying and screaming, clutching a brand-new game console tightly in his hand.

"Let go of my son! You robbers!" the woman hysterically lunged at him.

The scarred captain slammed his rifle butt against the wall next to her, sending lime dust flying. "Shut up! One more sound and I'll bury you both!" He pointed at the kid. "Take him away! His mother too!"

The mother and son were roughly forced into a military vehicle amidst cries and curses. Meanwhile, Diaz, who claimed to be "clean" and only drove domestically produced cars, found another world in a luxury apartment owned by his mistress.

The leader of the team was a lieutenant from the garrison with a fierce look in his eyes.

When they burst in, Diaz's mistress, who was more than twenty years younger than him, was wearing a silk nightgown and frantically making a phone call.

The phone was snatched and smashed.

"Search!"

The apartment was not large, but it was extremely luxurious.

The soldiers quickly found a hidden compartment in the bedroom's wall. Inside, instead of cash, were dozens of forged passports and identity documents, as well as several Swiss bank account passbooks recording complex financial flows, totaling a huge sum of money.

"Damn, they're playing pretty fancy games." The lieutenant spat.

In a safe disguised as books in the study, they discovered something even more astonishing.

Several thick photo albums were filled with lewd photos of Diaz with different women, including some clearly immature girls, as well as photos of him with his arms around the shoulders of some grotesque, tattooed gang members. There were also several videotapes with obscene titles on their labels.

Tsk tsk tsk, many people have no bottom line. Wasn't there a news story about a Japanese official who was arrested for watching some "underage" movies on a plane?

There are far too many hypocrites.

Moreover, as the millennium approached, technological development accelerated, and the internet became rife with all sorts of strange and bizarre things.

"Scumbag!" Even the lieutenant, who was used to seeing the dark side of things, couldn't help but curse.

Ironically, in the most conspicuous place in the living room, there was a banner with Diaz in his police uniform receiving an award for "model of integrity".

"Burn this disgusting thing!" the lieutenant waved his hand dismissively.

The mistress and Diaz's legal wife were taken away in handcuffs. The apartment's shady "collection" was packed away as irrefutable evidence of his dereliction of duty and corruption.

The raids lasted a full day and night. In Morelia and the surrounding area, luxurious mansions were repeatedly broken into, and the once arrogant family members of officials were escorted away in disgrace by soldiers. Truckloads of stolen money and goods were sealed and transported to temporary military warehouses.

Of course, some people resisted.

The Shinan District Police Station is a somewhat old-fashioned five-story office building.

The deputy director's office is located on the fourth floor, with its window facing the small parking lot and entrance inside the branch office.

The deputy chief was named Carter Zack, a veteran police officer in his thirties with dark skin and a prominent scar on his face, which was said to be a "medal" he had earned in a gunfight with a drug cartel in his early years.

He was once regarded as a hero in the police force, having made great contributions in the bloody war on drugs, and had been commended and featured in newspapers.

He was already famous before Victor came to power. Later, when the troops reached Michoacán, he "restored order" and became a government official.

People like this were all too common during the founding of the nation…

Tens of millions, or even hundreds of millions, of people—can you guarantee that every single one of them is good?
There are countless opportunists.

But at this moment, this former "hero" is standing in front of the office window, his eyes murky and crazed, staring intently downstairs.

Downstairs, three unmarked black SUVs had just stopped, the doors opened, and the work group members got out under the protection of soldiers.

Their target was clear—Carter Zach.

The investigation team received a conclusive report that this former "anti-drug hero" had long since fallen into corruption due to power and money.

Not only did he engage in long-term embezzlement and bribery, and abuse his power to provide protection for gangs, but even more appallingly, he is suspected of colluding with a shady medical institution in the state to control homeless or impoverished people, especially those with physical or intellectual disabilities, under the guise of "hospitalization" and "assistance," and then... "dispose of" them, stealing their organs for illegal trade.

The whistleblower's materials included some blurry but sufficient photos and accounting records to serve as evidence for the investigation.

Carter Zach did not choose suicide like his leader Nelson Gutierrez, nor did he sit idly by like the others.

"You want to arrest me? You want to try me? You child soldiers from the capital?!" he hissed, the scars on his face contorting into a grotesque grimace.

He turned around abruptly, rushed to a locked metal cabinet in the corner of the office, opened it with the key, and inside was a well-maintained sniper rifle with a high-powered scope!
This was a trophy he had seized years ago from a drug lord sniper who had been killed. He kept it for himself and would occasionally take it to a private shooting range in the suburbs to enjoy it.

He skillfully mounted the sniper rifle on the windowsill, aiming the muzzle through the gaps in the blinds at the investigation team officer downstairs who was walking towards the branch office gate.

His adjutant, a young policeman, heard the commotion and pushed open the door. Upon seeing the scene, he was terrified: "Chief...Chief!"

"Get out of my way!" Carter Zach roared without turning his head. "If they won't let me live, then we'll all die together! Where were they when I was risking my life fighting drug dealers?! Now they're talking to me about the law? Bah!"

Downstairs, the investigation team officer seemed to have noticed something and looked up at the fourth-floor window.

The moment he looked up—

"boom!!!"

The crisp, loud sound of a sniper rifle shattered the tranquility of the branch office!
The bullet struck the officer precisely in the chest. His body jolted violently, and the immense impact caused him to stagger backward several steps before falling backward to the ground!

A hole was blown open in his back.

"Enemy attack!!!" The other investigation team soldiers downstairs reacted quickly, immediately seeking cover and pointing their guns at the fourth-floor windows.

The other police officers in the precinct were also stunned by the sudden gunshot and hid themselves, none daring to show their faces.

Carter Zach fired a shot, and as he saw his target fall, a cruel and gleeful smile spread across his face. He didn't stop, but quickly pulled back the bolt, ejected the spent cartridge, reloaded, and moved the muzzle, trying to find his next target.

As he aimed, he shouted hoarsely out the window, his voice echoing through the parking lot:

"Come on! You sons of bitches! Come and get me!!"

"I'm a hero in the fight against drugs! Carter Zach! I've killed more drug dealers than you've ever seen! These scars on my body are my medals!!"

"I embezzled? What's wrong with me taking some money?! When I was working so hard, who gave me enough benefits?! This is what I deserve! Am I wrong?!"

His voice was filled with madness and resentment, as if he wanted to pour out all the repression and anger he had suppressed for many years.

"Wrong? What did I do wrong?!"

The investigation team soldiers downstairs had already called for backup via radio and were trying to shout back, launching a psychological offensive: "Carter Zack! Drop your weapons and surrender! You're surrounded! Don't make another mistake!" His roars became even more hysterical. He pulled the trigger, firing another shot at the hood of the vehicle where the soldiers downstairs were hiding, sending sparks flying.

“Those disabled people! Those mentally challenged people! They suffer just as long as they live! This world is too cruel to them! By letting them go sooner, I am freeing them! What did I do wrong?! Their organs can save more useful people, can be exchanged for money, and can make my life better! What's wrong with that?! The strong prey on the weak! That's the rule of this world!!”

His twisted and horrifying "theory," amplified by his screams, sent chills down the spines of the soldiers listening below. This was no longer the kind of talk a policeman, or even a human being, should be uttering.

"I didn't sell organs. I was just making reasonable use of resources, utilizing waste! What do you know! You hypocrites!!"

He screamed with all his might, as if he were the one who had suffered a tremendous injustice.

Just then, the roar of armored vehicles could be heard in the distance. Military support troops, having received the distress signal, had arrived!
A wheeled armored personnel carrier crashed through the perimeter fence of the branch office and rushed in.

More soldiers jumped off the vehicles and quickly took control of the perimeter.

After learning about the situation, the army major leading the team looked at the window on the fourth floor where gunfire and shouting were still going on.

"madman."

He cursed under his breath, then ordered: "Assault team! Charge! If the target puts up a stubborn resistance, kill them on the spot!"

"Yes!"

A strike team of six elite infantrymen, under the cover of fire from downstairs, quickly stormed into the branch office building.

Inside his office, Carter Zack heard hurried footsteps and the sound of a door being broken down downstairs.

He knew the final moment had arrived.

He abandoned his sniper rifle, pulled out the police pistol from his waist, leaned against the office door, and wore a smile that was a mixture of despair and madness.

"Come on, come on... all of you come on... let me see just how capable you are..."

"boom!"

The office door was violently smashed open by soldiers outside using a battering ram!

Just as the door opened—

"Bang! Bang! Bang! Bang!"

Carter Zach frantically pulled the trigger towards the door, emptying all the bullets in his pistol!

The two soldiers at the front reacted quickly, dodging to the side. The bullets hit the door frame and the wall, sending debris flying.

Almost at the same time he ran out of bullets—

“Da da da da——!!”

The assault team soldiers fired their assault rifles.

The dense barrage of bullets instantly turned the enemy into a sieve.

His body trembled violently from the immense impact of the bullet, bursting into sprays of blood on his chest and abdomen. He was forced backward, crashing heavily into the wall behind him before slowly sliding to the ground, leaving a glaring bloodstain on the wall.

His eyes widened, and the madness and anger in them gradually faded, leaving only an empty, deathly gray.

He was still tightly gripping the empty pistol in his hand.

The soldiers downstairs quickly went forward and confirmed that the target was dead.

"Quickly, search the office for any other clues."

……

(End of this chapter)