The anti-American vanguard starts in Mexico!

As he watched Qi Yun's departing figure, Francisco's face darkened instantly, his eyes filled with malice.

He's been at this checkpoint for five years, five years!

He outlasted three sheriffs and was about to be promoted, but now he's just a doorman?

The police officers nearby were also anxious. Qi Yun's words were so harsh, and the two men opposite him who looked like killers had even brought out their AKs. It was obvious that he really wanted to kick them out.

"Sheriff, you must do us justice!"

"Yes, we've been working for you for so long, what makes him, a new sheriff, so special..."

Several people surrounded Francisco, chattering amongst themselves.

Francisco didn't have time to deal with them, and waved his hand impatiently: "Shut up!"

The hired police officers were taken aback and awkwardly fell silent.

Francisco didn't look at them again, and turned to walk towards the guard post at the entrance.

Those people stood there, looking at each other.

"You have one and a half minutes left," Bull said in a muffled voice, glancing at his watch.

Seeing that their only backer was no longer reliable, these guys didn't dare to linger. One by one, they obediently put down their sidearms and slunk away with the guy who had been injured by Qi Yun.

Only one person remained in the spot.

He was also one of only two official police officers at the checkpoint—Hector.

Hector glanced in the direction of the guard post, then at the bulls and the others, and finally wisely jogged towards the yard.

Thus, Qi Yun took over checkpoint No. 4 with swift and decisive action.

The courtyard is quite large, probably around 200 square meters, but the facilities are rather cramped.

Several sections of the courtyard wall are about to collapse, and the ground is full of potholes.

Two patrol cars were parked side by side in the corner, their bodies covered in dust, and half of the police lights on their roofs were missing.

The office space is a two-story building, with several single-story houses on both sides, and the red bricks of the exterior walls are exposed.

Some of the window glass was cracked, some were taped back together, and one pane was even half-covered with cardboard...

Qi Yun stood in the center of the courtyard, walked around once, and from now on, this refugee camp was his territory.

"You guys go to the police station later, get all the paperwork done, and pick up your uniforms and equipment while you're at it."

"Yes, sir." The men following behind quickly responded.

"Also," Qi Yun turned to look at Martinelli, whose face was bruised and swollen, "you should go to the hospital to get it treated. Consider it a work injury and ask Laura for reimbursement."

"Then go to the market and find a few construction workers; we need to renovate this place."

Martinelli was deeply moved by Qi Yun's consideration for his subordinates.

It was such a trivial matter, yet it made him feel respected like never before.

"Yes, thank you, sir!" Martinelli saluted respectfully and turned to leave.

At that moment, Hector trotted over with a fawning smile on his face: "Sheriff, my name is Hector. Let me take you to the office."

Qi Yun glanced at him. This guy wasn't a good person, but he wasn't exactly a villain either.

Since he has come to surrender voluntarily, it would be good to first find out about the checkpoint from him.

"Lead the way."

Hector quickly stepped aside, leading Qi Yun toward the office building: "Sheriff, there's a spacious room upstairs that Francesco and I used to use. Now that you're here, I think it's only right that you use it..."

Qi Yun didn't reply, but followed the other party to take a quick look. The conditions were as they were, and there was nothing to complain about.

"Sheriff, would you like some coffee?" Hector had barely sat down when he brought him a cup of hot coffee.

"Put it down." Qi Yun didn't take it. He took out a cigarette from the cigarette case and was about to reach for a lighter when Hector lit it with a "click" and leaned over.

With this level of professional competence, in that other system, he'd be at least an office director.

Qi Yun lowered his head, lit a cigarette, and said calmly, "Tell me about the current situation at the checkpoint."

Hector stood before the desk, his smile fading, his hands clasped together, and began his report in a formal manner: "Sir, there are currently personnel at the checkpoint..."

"Do I need to tell you that?" Qi Yun interrupted him, looking up. "You should know what I want to hear."

Hector paused for a moment, his Adam's apple bobbing.

Qi Yun didn't urge him, but just watched him quietly.

Hector immediately felt a mountain-like pressure, and the sound of the gunshot seemed to replay in his mind.

In just a few seconds, he made the decision to sell Francisco.

"Deputy Chief Francisco has connections with the local gangs. They give the checkpoint 50,000 pesos a month. Francisco gets 80%, I get 10%, and the rest is distributed among the hired officers..."

"In exchange, we will inform them in advance of the inspection times and patrol routes at the checkpoints, and we will also turn a blind eye to some non-compliant goods."

After he finished speaking, he lowered his head, not daring to look at Qi Yun.

Qi Yun flicked his cigarette ash and sneered, "5 pesos for a checkpoint?"

That's less than 5000 US dollars, practically a beggar's gift.

Hector, thinking Qi Yun was questioning the accuracy of the figure, quickly added, "Sheriff, Francisco had me record every single transaction. I'll hand over the ledger to you now!"

"No need." Qi Yun had no interest in any account books.

What are you going to do with it? Use it to expose Francisco?

He had already discerned this in Chief Carlos's office last time: it wasn't that the other side couldn't touch these regular officers, but rather that they didn't want to rashly disrupt this balance.

In Mexico, it's almost common practice for checkpoints to accept bribes.

Using this as a reason to drive people away is tantamount to declaring war on everyone and trying to take away their livelihoods.

Qi Yun might as well solve it himself; it would save him the trouble.

At this moment, Bull and Razor, having finished dealing with matters outside, came to report.

Qi Yun waved his hand, signaling Hector to leave.

The latter, feeling as if granted a pardon, ran away in a flash.

"Sit down." Qi Yun pointed to the chair opposite him. "You've come at the perfect time. I'll assign you two a task."

"Razor will keep an eye on that guy outside at night, find an opportunity to kill him, then pay two kids to dump the body in the Crippled Gang's territory."

This is Qi Yun's way of handling things.

If it can be solved with violence, then there's no need for all those fancy tricks.

Razor nodded expressionlessly, not seeing anything wrong with it.

"Bull, your job is to train those new recruits, teach them how to shoot, and lead them in drills. We can't keep going it alone; we need to cultivate a group of trustworthy people within our ranks."

"Also, construction workers will be here in a little while. Take a look at it; the walls and the main structure of the building both need to be modified. Ideally, they should be able to withstand rocket launchers."

"This will be our base for the foreseeable future. We will start here, take root, and ignite the spark..."

Just as the three were discussing their grand plan, Francisco was making a phone call on his cell phone inside the guard post outside the compound.

"Yes, this area is no longer under my jurisdiction. It may not be as easy for your goods to pass through as before."

A cold laugh came from the other end of the phone: "No one can stop me from making money. Tell me the name of that new sheriff, and I'll have someone take care of him."

Francisco got the answer he wanted, and a look of satisfaction spread across his face: "His name is Qi Yun, he has yellow skin, he's easy to recognize."

"What did you say his name was?!"

"Qi...Qi Yun, what's wrong?"

"Nothing, it's fine!" came a voice gritting its teeth from the receiver...