Working as a police officer in Mexico

Crack!

A whip struck Mexico City Mayor Eduardo Cagliano, leaving not a single patch of good flesh on his body.

Even the wounds on his face were turned inside out, the corners of his mouth outlined with saliva tinged with blood, his entire being in a stupor, dazed and confused.

He was still mumbling, "I... I am the mayor..."

The Taibao, wielding the whip, seemed a bit fatigued, picked up a mineral water bottle that was set aside, gulping it down, then smashed the remaining bottle, and with a vicious grin, grabbed Eduardo Cagliano's hair, spitting on his face, "Mayor? Whose mayor are you? Do you have Mr. Victor's approval?"

Is your ass stamped with an official seal?

Eduardo Cagliano lifted his head, his eyes swollen, "I! Am the legitimate mayor of Mexico City..."

Before he could finish, a powerful slap struck his face left and right, swelling it "wider" by quite a bit.

That's for acting smart!

That's for acting smart!

Sizzle~

As Eduardo Cagliano's consciousness waned, the door was opened, and a Taibao rushed in, whispered a couple of words to the person whipping him, and they just left like that.

Is this... a temporary halt?

Eduardo Cagliano felt a sense of relief.

Click-clack, click-clack...

The crisp sound of footsteps was especially heavy in the quiet cell.

He tried to raise his head and immediately heard a muffled voice beside his ear, "Eduardo."

"Cuauhtémoc!"

Eduardo Cagliano suddenly opened his eyes wide; the voice was all too familiar to him, unmistakable even if he was turned to dust.

Cuauhtémoc looked down at him with a complex expression in his eyes.

"Are you here to mock me?" Eduardo Cagliano rasped self-mockingly, "The mighty President doesn't sit in the National Palace but grovels before the Governor of the North and comes here... for what?"

"Grovel? That's cooperation!" Cuauhtémoc frowned.

"Do you believe that?" Eduardo Cagliano retorted with a face full of scorn.

The other party fell silent at once.

"When you placed the Northern Governorship above Mexico, you! You became a criminal of Mexico! Victor is a dictator..."

"But he's not a drug trafficker." Cuauhtémoc interrupted him, his emotions flaring up, "Would you rather have Mexico turn into a drug trafficker's paradise, the laughingstock of the world? Have over a hundred million people turn into drug addicts? I am the President, and I know who I should be responsible for!"

"I won't allow Mexico to fall into imperial rule; it's anti-human, a desecration of all people!" Eduardo Cagliano shouted loudly.

"Don't try to pin any labels on me, Eduardo, both you and I are seasoned politicians, I know what you want..."

"Nothing but my position! Right!" Cuauhtémoc's gaze turned dark as he watched him, "All for the sake of all Mexico, you, are just a failed betrayer."

Everyone likes to find an excuse for their "mistakes."

It's best to stand on the moral high ground.

This might work for others, but never say this in front of Emperor Victor, for he will make you taste the "old three" punishments: Humvee dismemberment, firing squad execution, and helicopter hanging!

The last one hasn't even been practically executed.

However, it's said that the Governor's Mansion is selecting someone, someone with a bit of status, to be tied by their ankles, then circled in the sky—of course, not by the neck since that would be too cheap a death.

Your blood flowing backward as you hang by your ankles... tsk tsk tsk!

"You're spouting nonsense!" Eduardo Cagliano's voice turned shrill as if a nerve had been struck, fiercely struggling, wanting to lash out at the other, but he was bound.

"Ptui!" A glob of bloody spit was flung on his face.

Cuauhtémoc's face darkened, his countenance twitched, and the last bit of pity disappeared with that spit.

"Incompetent trash!"

With that, he turned and left; originally, he had come to ask why the other had betrayed him, had he treated him so badly?

But on the way there, he figured it out; it was simply because he had outshone him, and the man yearned to ascend further, nothing more.

You're a whore, and yet you want to put your clothes back on?

"Cuauhtémoc!" Eduardo Cagliano yelled out, deeply wounded by the look the other gave before leaving, but he was met only with the sound of the door closing again, and... the terror of darkness!

As Cuauhtémoc stepped out, Carlos stood on the outside, obviously aware of everything that had happened inside. He handed over a piece of paper. The former took it and wiped the saliva from his face, "Take good care of Eduardo for me."

"Certainly, sir."

Carlos glanced at the Taibao, who nodded, gripping the whip as he walked back in.

"Sir, the Governorship of the North would like to send someone to replace the arrested traitor," Carlos said.

Cuauhtémoc paused in his steps, opening his mouth, aware that the North wasn't satisfied with the useless people around him and wanted to plant one of their own. What about... his power?

He felt somewhat bewildered, unsure what had gone wrong, and turned to look at Carlos, "Does Mr. Victor intend to become Emperor?"

"???" Carlos was bewildered by the question, which was too direct.

Couldn't it be more subtle?

For instance, does Emperor Victor want to rule over Mexico?

It's difficult to answer when you ask like that.

"I think, that's something you should personally consult with the Governor, sir. However, as subordinates, whatever decision he makes we will follow unconditionally, not just I, but also the hundred thousand soldiers of the Northern Governorship!" Stay updated with My Virtual Library Empire