"Because… my country needs me."
"Don't you love me anymore?" The woman looked at him. The man turned his head abruptly, "I love you, but I love my country more."
The woman turned away, covering her face to cry, yet she still stood by his side. As the photographer's shutter clicked, they were immortalized together in a photograph.
The woman now had her hair tied up and carried a firearm on her back, her eyes filled with dullness. The photographer still asked, "Can you smile for me?"
By her side was now an elderly man, who loudly chastised her, "I won't allow you to go!"
"It's the drug war, Dad."
"I've graduated from combat training."
The old man pleaded, "But you're my only one."
"But my country is also my only one."
Father and daughter looked at each other, and finally, the aged father straightened out his clothes and stood by his daughter. He couldn't smile, but neither did he cry; he simply stood numb, looking into the camera.
"Can you smile for me?" the photographer asked the soldier garbed old man.
The man shook his head.
When the sunlight shone anew, when the air became quiet, when all words turned numb...
The photographer, dressed in tattered military uniform, took one last look at the camera, picked up a rifle, pushed open the door, and walked into the darkness.
Written beside it was: "In the war on drugs, the people of Mexico have struggled for over a century. They've never begged; they've only resisted, fought, and sacrificed. They are both great and ordinary, simply wishing for their descendants a future without drugs!"
Victor looked up, his eyes red, "Gentlemen, we have nowhere left to retreat. We don't ask for history to remember our names; we only hope that in the struggle, more people will join us."
"We need money, weapons, personnel, supplies, support, attention. Mexico is containing drugs from spreading to the world, saving the world and hoping the world can save us."
Victor walked over, bowed deeply, and with his manuscript in hand, descended from the podium. His silhouette was forlorn...
A round of applause arose, and all eyes turned to the source to see the leading representative of Asia among the five good men, his applause enthusiastic.
Only those who have suffered the same pain know what drugs mean, how they destroy the will of people and the health of societal order!
As the leader clapped, others gradually followed suit.
Eventually, the applause grew louder!
It echoed throughout the entire United Nations General Assembly.
Belsaria Ramsfield hugged Victor, "What you said was wonderful, dear."
Victor responded with a smile.
His tears weren't entirely fake; he genuinely felt the struggle. As he came this far, so many had looked upon him with cold indifference, so many had mocked him.
Fighting drugs in Mexico?
You're joking, right?
This pressure kept him awake many nights...
Later he realized, if anyone speaks ill of me, I'll just crush them—wow, that feels much better.
"Mr. Victor, the next agenda is the Drug Enforcement Department's position voting, please return to your seat," a staff member beside him said.
"Alright, thank you." Victor nodded to him, kissed Belsaria, exchanged a couple of words, and followed the staff member back to his seat. Next to him, the Mexican representative stood up to embrace him.
Representatives from smaller countries, Ecuador, Guatemala, Costa Rica, and others also stood up, shaking hands one after another.
For a moment, Victor successfully maximized his presence.
"We are deeply grateful for the speech delivered by Victor, which has made clear to us the dangers of drugs. In accordance with resolution 45/179, the United Nations will establish the United Nations International Narcotics Control Board. We will now proceed with the voting for candidates to elect the Executive Director."
The rotating country was the United Kingdom, which with the end of its representative's speech, displayed four names on the screen.
"One, Brazil Drug Control Bureau: Jose Bonifacio de Andrada."
"Two, Libya: Omar Muammar Gaddafi."
"Three, Mexico: Victor Carlos Vieri."
"Four, South Korea:..."
Victor's brow raised at the sight of a familiar name among the candidates, Gaddafi?
You're leaving the presidency to fight over this job?
"Please begin voting now."
Victor clenched his fist nervously, glancing at the Mexican representative beside him, who cast his vote directly for Victor.
It seemed he still wanted to return home.
The tally rose quickly afterward, and seeing his name in the lead, Victor breathed a sigh of relief.
He still had the leisure to glance at his competitors: the Brazilian with an expressionless face, the Libyan frowning tightly, the Korean grinding his teeth...
Once all the votes were cast, the rankings were displayed.
Victor Carlos Vieri: 197 votes!
This solitary vote nearly made Victor laugh out loud, but he refrained from doing so out of respect for others.
Judging by the look on the Korean's face, that one vote was likely his own.
"I now declare the first Executive Director of the Drug Enforcement Department is Mexico's Victor Carlos Vieri."
Like it or not, everyone had only sincere well-wishes to offer.
You think this is a court where you can file an appeal?
Didn't you notice the bosses down below starting to clap?