Chapter 7 A Unique Self-Introduction

Tijuana: 2,000 pesos.

Juarez: 3,000 pesos.

Sinaloa: 4,000 pesos.

…

This amount of money is quite a lot for Victor at the moment.

Sinaloa pays 450,000 US dollars a month to the head of the Federal Police. These 50,000 pesos are combined and considered as alms to beggars.

“However, I think there should be more than 17 leaders of the groups in the third prison area? Why don’t the others pay?” Victor said, pointing to the list above.

This confused Anna. She was stunned and looked strange. She tried to be more tactful, “Sergeant Victor, some people may not know that you are in office.”

“That makes sense, but I value fairness. For the remaining organizations that have not paid, each organization will pay 2,000 pesos as a gift. Isn’t that too much?”

“I will help convey it.”

Anna saw that the other party fell into the money trap and could only bite the bullet and say it.

Victor seemed very calm. In the third prison area, besides the warden, he was the most powerful one. If he didn't use his power, it would expire. Didn't he know that?

He was in urgent need of money to develop his power. Of course, it would be the best if he could get some money.

Anna thought this guy was too greedy and would not live long. She was too lazy to talk to him. After chatting for a few words, she left.

The last deputy warden only stayed for 2 months. Although he received nearly 100,000 pesos as a tribute, his whole family was also wiped out.

It was because the other party offended the drug lord of the prison area.

People who are too greedy will not live long.

If Victor knew what she was thinking, he would definitely chat with her, as if people who are not greedy can live a hundred years. As long as you give me money, it's okay for you to kill my whole family. Anyway, I am alone. If you give me more money, I can even take you to the ancestral grave. If you think it's not troublesome, you can add more money and blow up the ancestral grave.

After sitting in the office for more than ten minutes, Victor felt uncomfortable. He put on his hat, picked up the key, and planned to walk around the prison area to observe which big guy's thigh was suitable for hugging.

The third prison area was much quieter than the previous two prison areas.

No exercise, no noise.

As soon as he walked into the cell, he heard a woman's voice coming from inside, a very exciting cry, very deep in this empty corridor.

Damn...

What time is it?

Still doing it?

Victor looked at his watch, put his hands behind his back, and walked towards the cell area. There are single rooms here with independent bathrooms, about 20 square meters, equipped with air conditioning, TV and even game consoles.

The treatment is better than that of the police dormitory.

There are also clear levels in this prison area, and the most dangerous criminals are often in the deepest.

"Hey!"

The prisoner in the outermost cell heard footsteps, turned his head and saw that it was a policeman, blew a whistle, and said casually, "I want tuna tacos for lunch, and give me a bottle of tequila."

Victor looked left and right.

"Damn it, I'm talking about you, remember!" The other person got up from the bed and kicked the railing with one foot, making a vibration sound.

This is an old man, about fifty years old, with a bad temper.

Victor blinked.

Stepan Blanchard

Male

Born in Medellin, Colombia in 1949.

Dropped out of school at the age of 16, joined a gang, and began a criminal career, starting with car theft and street fraud, and then kidnapping and smuggling, gradually becoming famous.

In 1973, he joined the Medellin Group of Pablo Escobar, a ruthless Colombian, as a technical leader.

In November 1985, Pablo funded the left-wing guerrillas to attack the judicial building in Bogota, the capital of Colombia, and took 300 hostages. Stepan Blanchard played the role of liaison.

In 1986, he served as the chief of North America Mexico City, cooperating with organizations such as Sinaloa and Tijuana.

In 1987, he was arrested and imprisoned for beating a prostitute in the red light district and has been detained ever since.

Crime value: 77,000 points!

…

Sure enough, he is a tough guy.

The people of the Medellin Cartel have come out.

In fact, since the first generation of drug lords, Pedro Aviles, Mexican drug lords and Colombian drug lords have had business dealings. He is the first known Mexican drug lord to cooperate with Colombians.

He is also the first drug lord to use airplanes to transport drugs.

The reward each time is half of the value of the goods, but because Mexico is too close to the United States, this profit is also profitable for Colombians.

This is also the cooperation template for transnational drug trafficking organizations such as the Guadalajara Cartel and the Gulf Cartel.

With a score of up to 77,000 points, if you kill him, you can exchange it for a jet plane that sprays pesticides.

It can also be exchanged for a small ship.

This firepower is much more fierce than the Mongolian "Seven Warlords of the Sea".

"Wait a minute."

Victor took out a piece of paper from his pocket, on which were the "gifts" given to drug lords. He carefully scribbled on it with his right hand, "Are you from the Medellin Cartel?"

Stepan Blancard raised his eyebrows and looked him up and down.

"I'm sorry, I can't serve you without you paying me." Victor folded the paper and stuffed it back into his pocket, "It's very difficult for me to do anything if you don't pay me."

Are you asking for money?

Stepan laughed angrily, his mouth wide open, as if he could swallow a child's head, "You know who I am, right? You dare to ask me for money." He suddenly reached out and grabbed Victor's clothes, pulling hard.

Victor smiled. You started it first. Officially, I allow you to fight back.

Even if the warden talks to me later, it's reasonable.

He pressed Stepan's knuckles and twisted them hard. The other party obviously wanted to twist them back. He pursed his lips and used all his strength. But after all, he was old and had been pampered for a long time. With a click, Victor broke his finger.

Stepan cried out in pain and staggered back, covering his finger.

Victor took out the key, opened the door, took out the baton from his waist, swung it hard, and the steel pipe stretched and smashed towards Stepan's head. He was so scared that he quickly raised his hand to stop it.

"Stop! Stop!"

"You didn't give me a fucking gift, and you're still so arrogant, Medellin Cartel? This is Mexico. Don't you look at the map when you come out to make trouble?"

Victor swore that it was not because the other party didn't give him money and he couldn't save face, but simply wanted to teach the criminal a lesson.

Anyway, I have already offended the Gulf Cartel, so why should I be afraid of offending others?

Too many lice don't bite people, and too many debts don't worry people.

Do you think these drug lords will respect you or look at you differently? To them, the police are just dogs kept in the government.

But if you beat them up and make them not recognize their mothers, they won't dare to complain.

If they are fierce, you should be more fierce than them!

The patrolling prison guards who heard the noise hurried over and stood at the door, at a loss, and saw a sergeant holding a baton and beating Stepan Blanchard, nicknamed "Mouse". He used to be arrogant and domineering, but now he curled up and covered his head and howled.

Victor, who was tired of beating, looked back and saw two patrolling prison guards standing at the door, and threw the baton at them, and the two of them didn't dare to come in.

Cowardly as a mouse!

Victor sneered, squatted down, looked at Stepan with blood on his face, and grabbed his neck, "Fuck you, remember to ask someone to make up for the gift, otherwise, I will beat you up every day at work."

He wiped the blood on his hand on the other's prison uniform, walked out of the cell, and glanced at the prison guard, "Call him a doctor, and my name is Victor, the new deputy warden."

Too tough to introduce himself.

He went to the prisoner first.

The two prison guards did not dare to enter the cell, for fear that Stepan Blanchard, who had a bad temper and was beaten, would vent his anger on them.

"Quick, go call a doctor, I'll report to the warden."

More than 200 prison guards in the third prison area were shocked.

Here comes a tough guy!

He actually beat up the drug lord, which made many prison guards "look at him with new eyes", but some people also mocked it, and some even opened a private bet on how he would die.

The odds of being shot to death within a week are 1 to 1.7.

The odds of being hacked to death and stuffed into an oil barrel are 1 to 7.

The odds of being dismembered are 1:6.7.

These are the three most popular killing methods of drug lords.

In the office of the psychological intervention team, Anna was painting her feet with red nail polish, which was very sexy. When she heard her colleague rushing in, she told the story in a serious manner, as if she was at the scene.

"Do you think he is crazy?" asked the colleague.

Anna was stunned. It was like a movie playing in her mind. She had already thought about how he was shot to death by drug dealers outside. She shook her head vigorously, put on her shoes and ran to inform her lover.

Watching her leave, several colleagues looked at each other.

"This bitch must be asking for credit again." The colleague who just came in muttered with a little jealousy. This psychological intervention team had the best performance in saving her and was the most beautiful.

The hatred between women is incredible.

...

When Cona Velasquez came back from the meeting, he happened to meet Anna. Seeing her anxious look, he was in the mood to pat her buttocks.

"Sir, Victor... beat up Stepan Blanchard in cell No. 1."

Anna looked at Conor Velasquez's face and instantly turned green.

She swore...

It was just like the Oriental face-changing she had seen in the United States.

…