Chapter 10 If You Urinate Anywhere, Your Tools Will Be Confiscated!

Dragan almost choked to death with a mouthful of spit.

"What? Eight hundred dollars? Are you robbing me?"

The spit was about to spray on Casare's face.

He subconsciously dodged his head backwards, mainly because the other party's mouth was really stinky. He robbed me and still negotiated the price with you, and he hit you directly on the head.

However, how can you do business without asking for a high price?

Do you think you are preaching?

"Why, is it too expensive? The cost of AK47 is about 200 US dollars. It is shipped from the Soviet Union to Mexico. I will only charge you the cost. Dragan, have I ever lied to you since you were a child?" Casare took the rifle and unloaded the magazine. "Standard 30 rounds of bullets. When you go out at night to shoot with others, he uses a pistol and becomes impotent immediately. And you, my cousin, can use this to tell him who is the boss of this street." "Most organizations in Mexico are using American products. If you become the first to use Soviet weapons, it will be really cool. Didn't you say that you want to be the most unique one since you were a child? The American rifles shipped here cost more than 800 US dollars. Moreover, among similar guns, AK has experienced actual combat experience." Terrorists use AK when they go out, and they all say it is good. Every word of Casare was embedded in Dragan's heart. He looked at the driver and the two strong men in the back seat, and raised his chin slightly, "What do you think?"

"I think it's good, boss. If we have this guy, will the Whale Brotherhood dare to compete with us for those two KTVs? Just kill them." The driver said bluntly.

The two strong men in the back seat also nodded.

Their organization is not big, only about 20 people, occupying two streets, collecting protection fees from shops, especially KTVs and brothels, with an annual turnover of about 500,000 US dollars!

The salary of an ordinary brother is about 1,000 pesos per month. Dragan, as a "security backbone", is responsible for charging, and can get 1,000 US dollars per month, which is absolutely a high salary.

With money, of course you want to get more!

The boss said that if you take down the street next to you, your salary will double.

Don't think that ordinary Mexican communities are awesome. They also use machetes, and there is a shortage of guns. The arms smuggled from the United States are all ordered by big drug lords. They come in bits and pieces, and as soon as they cross the border, they are divided up by large organizations with many spies.

It is difficult for a small organization like Dragan to develop.

"Okay, 800 is 800. Write a receipt. I want to be reimbursed." Dragan took out green money from his wallet. Franklin's bald head looked damn handsome in Casare's eyes.

"By the way, write me 900 US dollars."

Good guy, he's taking kickbacks!

Swish, swish, swish, Casare took the US dollars with both hands and threw the backpack over, "There are 100 bullets in it. This is my gift to you. Others don't have it. However, I only have this much authority. Next time you want bullets, you have to spend money."

Dragan's eyes lit up, and he opened the backpack. Sure enough, there were two boxes of ammunition lying inside, and he looked at Casare more kindly.

After getting the money, Casare was ready to leave. As soon as he opened the door and his feet touched the ground, he seemed to think of something, "By the way, we also provide rocket launchers, mines, and grenades. If you need them, you can contact me at that time. I guarantee to give you a preferential price."

The slogan cannot be forgotten.

This is moral integrity.

After saying that, he got out of the car, closed the door, waved to Dragan in the co-pilot seat, and left with his hands in his pockets.

"Boss, your cousin is not an arms dealer, right?" The driver looked at his back in the rearview mirror and couldn't help asking curiously.

"Arms dealer? How is it possible? He has never left Mexico."

Dragan frowned, "Maybe he is working for some big boss."

"Forget him, let's go back and tell the boss first. If it really works, I will ask the boss to apply for funds. By then, we will have more than a dozen AKs and become bigger and stronger!"

...

The first time he engaged in "illegal activities", Casare still felt a little excited. This is different from ordinary black money. That is the pity of others, but this is his own industry.

He ran to the market across from the prison. Although it was busy at night, it also did business during the day. A sleepy prostitute leaned against the tent, holding a cigarette in her mouth, yawning, skinny, like a drug addict.

Experienced Casare knew at a glance that it was smelly, even more fishy than scallops. After a bite, it was a biochemical mother.

Just as he was about to go inside, he saw an ice cream truck, licked his lips, and walked over, "Give me one."

He licked the ice cream in his hand twice, and his eyes lit up.

When he was a child, he loved eating ice cream the most, but his family was poor, and his mother had to support four children by herself, which was very tiring. He was the oldest and sensible, and he was reluctant to eat ice cream. Although this thing only cost 2 pesos, it could allow the family to have an extra meal.

When he grew up and worked, the treatment of the police was worse than that of dogs. At least military dogs had a daily food standard of 10 pesos. Casare kept his salary and gave it to his parents. His younger brothers and sisters had to study, and he hoped that his mother would be less tired.

But now…

With a “huge sum” of $800 in his pocket, he could finally eat as much as he wanted.

“Shh~”

A whistle interrupted Casare’s thoughts, and he saw Victor, dressed in black, sitting under a parasol on the roadside with a glass of juice in front of him.

“Have you been here for a long time?” Casare asked as he trotted over.

“It’s only been less than half an hour, how is it going?”

Casare took out the money from his pocket, put it directly on the table, and pushed it over, "Sold for a total of eight hundred US dollars."

Victor looked at the green coins on the table and was very satisfied. He picked up two and pushed the rest back to him, "We agreed, I only need 200 US dollars, and the rest is yours."

Looking at the U.S. dollars on the table, Casare's Adam's apple rolled. He thought Victor was just telling the story, but who knew it was true?

With a sarcastic laugh, he took out a dollar bill and said, "I can just take one. I didn't do anything. You provided the goods."

He is self-aware, understands his position, and understands who the main leaders of this business are. If Victor is unhappy if he takes too much, will he still make money?

Don't be so stupid as to think that the leader said: It's okay. If you have any opinions about me, you can raise them.

Then you really believed it, and you talked about his shortcomings.

The next day, you were fired because you walked in with your left foot first.

Don't believe in the school's grading, which seems random, but haven't you noticed that the rows and rows are all arranged?

If you really break it, just wait.

The world is full of routines, you have to learn to distinguish them.

Casare thought that Victor's previous mention of only $200 was a casual mention.

Victor was obviously very satisfied when he saw that Casare was so "sensible". At least he had a general understanding of people, so he pushed the money in front of him, "I just do what I say. No one can touch my money. It belongs to you." Yes, I won’t move, take it, we will make a lot of money in the future.”

To do "gray business", you have to make your younger brothers earn money. If you just paint a pie for them, sooner or later, they will make a hole in your head.

What is in hand is the actual thing.

No matter how much you say, it's not as good as a piece of steel.

Seeing that Victor was serious, Casare raised his head and looked at him. The latter smiled at him and pointed at the money, "Hide it and put it on the table. People will snatch it away later."

After saying this, he drank up the juice in front of him and stood up holding on to the sides of the chair, "Let's go to the city to find Best."

After hearing this, Casare grabbed the money on the table and stuffed it into his inner pocket. He looked around and saw a woman not far away staring at him, baring his teeth, like It's a food guard dog.

If anyone dares to touch his things, he will bite him to death!

Try not to take a taxi in Mexico, because you don’t know where they will take you, and you don’t know if they are drug dealers working part-time. If you see that you are beautiful, oh well, you will be the number one in the nightclub tomorrow.

Therefore, take a qualified bus as much as possible.

But the bus is also dangerous.

In 1985, when Donetto, the third-largest figure in the Guadalajara cartel, was arrested, his subordinates directly launched a riot in order to confront the government. Armed drug dealers rushed into the streets and killed everyone they saw.

An elementary school bus was stopped while passing through the city center. This gang of vicious and inhumane bastards opened fire with guns, killing 24 students and teachers in the bus. The average age of the children was 7 years old.

There was also a bus carrying migrant workers who were finally returning home after a hard day's work. They were also forced to stop, and then six of the men were beheaded and their heads were thrown into the city hall.

This country is rotten to the extreme!

You can't expect anyone to save you. When Jesus comes, you have to learn to smoke marijuana, otherwise you won't be able to blend in.

Fortunately, Victor and the others did not encounter this bad luck. After sitting at the station, they found a diesel three-wheeler and drove straight to Kimahuakan.

Chimahuacan is actually a large slum in Mexico City. There are about 1 million people here, which is one-fifth of the population of Mexico City.

It's much bigger than Tiantongyuan.

Victor understood the detailed address and showed it to the driver who was pulling him. The driver made an OK sign, turned the accelerator, and drove through the streets.

This driver was also a reckless man. When passing by a narrow road, he used his voice as a trumpet. When he saw someone sitting at the door, he would not let him go and rushed over. The woman who was almost hit by the angry woman yelled curses behind her.

The bold and unruly children chased the vehicles. If they saw foreigners, they might have started to rob the vehicles by now.

As soon as he entered Kimahuacán, Victor's face was gloomy and cautious, and he handed the Colt M1911 to Casare, "Take it, just in case."

"And you?"

Victor glanced at him, opened his clothes, and revealed the Uzi submachine gun inside, "You have to bring something for self-defense when you go out, otherwise I won't feel at ease."

Casare's eyes were bulging, and he didn't know how to describe it. He nodded, took the pistol, and stuffed it into his waist.

The third round was very fast, and we arrived at our destination in more than half an hour. However, Best's door was kicked open and fell directly to the ground. There were sounds of smashing and cursing in the house.

"It seems that we arrived at an unlucky time."

Victor walked into the house, and Casare followed after paying. He saw four young people in their early teens surrounding a man, who was lying on the ground.

A young man was peeing on him.

Hearing the movement at the door, the four people turned their heads at the same time and saw the man coming in with a submachine gun pointed at them.

"Gentlemen, if you urinate anywhere, your tools will be confiscated!"

…