Working as a police officer in Mexico

Victor couldn't use his Golden Finger to check on everyone.

The plate was too big.

With nearly thirty thousand armed personnel, plus thousands of ordinary civil servants who depended on their own income, and Tijuana's population of over three million.

If he had to look at each one, he'd have to wait till hell freezes over.

The only thing he could do was to replace the top brass with his own people and keep a tight grip on the gun.

People pinched by the Golden Finger of course wouldn't betray him.

But you couldn't possibly replace all the one hundred million plus Mexicans with your own people, right?

It seems...

It's not impossible either.

When that time comes, with the strength of over one hundred million people, what would you do?

Um...

Stepping on sewing machines would definitely make money.

Tijuana. Night.

The gambling den in District 30.

Since the last crackdown, the casinos here had become much more legal and compliant. Twenty "gambling licenses" were auctioned to Victor for over 120 million US dollars, and to prevent them from growing too powerful—

Victor's "Hope" company also became a shareholder, along with Tijuana's local finance department, leeching off this endless cash flow.

There was no worry about a lack of players; even with the high taxes, the casinos paid the money, and how much extra charge customers needed to pay was decided by the staff inside.

It got lively here at night.

Americans, Mexicans, Guatemalans, and even Canadians were here, and you could see faces of Asian descent. With the casinos as its foundation, other accompanying industries also sprouted up like mushrooms after rain.

Illegal.

But please don't forget to pay taxes.

Your body also belongs to Mr. Victor.

Under the "government endorsement," District 30 quickly transformed from a dirty, vulgar, chaotic slum into a bustling entertainment district.

In the first month alone, it brought nearly 3 million US dollars more in revenue for Tijuana's finance department.

Once the situation stabilized, more and more tourists would visit this place, which would definitely become a pillar industry.Nôv(el)B\\jnn

Inside the "Maguixiu zitel" casino. Experience tales with empire

Dressed in plain clothes, Superintendent Demetrius looked frantically at his cards, squeezing them hard and shouting out loud, "Ace! Ace! Ace!"

Many people behind him were also shouting along, but when the cards were finally revealed, it turned out to be a 6.

"Player has four points, banker has six points, banker wins!" the dealer called out on the side.

"F**K!"

Demetrius threw his cards on the table and cursed at the dealer, "What kind of hand is that? Shit, bitch, I've never won when you're dealing!"

His voice was loud, drawing looks from people at nearby tables.

A Mexican bouncer quickly came over with a smile on his face, "Superintendent Demetrius, what's wrong? Where did the fun go? Take a smoke, cool off."

"Damn, give me more money, I don't believe I'm out of luck today!"

The Mexican smiled looking very affable, "Of course, no problem, but you've already borrowed 200,000 US dollars here. This...perhaps you could pay back some first?"

"Gómez, what? Afraid I can't pay it back?"

The other was cursing inwardly; if it weren't for your big background, your boss named Victor, I would have killed you, a stinking cop, and thrown you onto the street a long time ago.

200,000 dollars lent to you, all because you are a superintendent!

"Forget it, I'm not playing! Shit!" Demetrius saw the look in his eyes, realizing that it wouldn't be easy to get more money, cursed out loud, and got up to walk out of the casino.

"Boss, just like that, letting him go?" one of the lackeys asked Gómez.

"What else can we do? Can you ask him for the debt? Consider us unlucky, just don't lend to him anymore."

Gómez also muttered curses as he watched the other's retreating figure.

Actually, Victor had strictly ordered that those in the disciplinary department were not allowed to gamble or seek prostitutes, but Demetrius wouldn't listen.

He used to be a senior assistant in the police department of Tijuana. When Uncle Wei took over, he simply swapped bosses on the spot. Knowing that the new boss liked reform and favored aggressive subordinates, he immediately applied to join the frontline.

He had established quite a few merits.

He was indeed a fierce general!

But he loved gambling and women; his salary was nowhere near enough for his splurging, so... he found a way to make some under-the-table income. In the casino, he met a "Spanish" woman, who was very forward, and the two ended up in bed straight away.

A month later, she told him she worked for the Spanish intelligence, and most importantly, she was pregnant!

Demetrius easily became a tool in the hands of that woman.

But he was lucky and also very careful; he hadn't been caught by Group 13, otherwise... his body would've already been at the door by now.

Demetrius went outside the casino and lit a cigarette. Scanning around, he spotted a light in a room on the second floor of a small hotel opposite. He looked left and right, threw the cigarette on the ground, twisted the butt with the tip of his shoe, and then walked into the hotel.

The receptionist heard footsteps and was about to call out to him, but saw him wave his hand, "Looking for someone," then he quickly ran upstairs as if he were a regular.

On the second floor, he found the room, and the sign on the door read: "Resting, please do not disturb." But in the lower right corner, there was a small black dot that was barely visible unless you looked closely.

Demetrius knocked rhythmically three times on the door. The door slowly opened, revealing a crack, a pair of eyes peeked out, and upon seeing him, the person hurriedly opened the door, complaining, "Why have you only come now?"

"What's the hurry?"

He walked in and saw seven or eight people sitting inside, all members of the small group he had recruited.

He had used money from his "Spanish mistress" to win over a bunch of people.