You claim to be all that and a bag of chips…
But look at you, so pissed off you burst a blood vessel.
Confused, aren't you?
Got a tiny heart, just because Victor crushed you?
Big players… need to keep their blood pressure in check!
Well, now Sinaloa is fragmented, and you've been "captured" by the new generation in Jalisco.
Pretty much everyone in the drug trafficking circles knows this.
Guzman has been kept as a pet by El Mencho!
Externally they say it's out of respect for a predecessor.
But everyone knows this jerk off is trying to play saint.
And with Colombia's Drug Lords lacking a reliable partner in Mexico, they felt Juarez and Gulf Group were a bit shaky and desperately needed someone to join.
That's when the violent and cruel Jalisco state was naturally selected.
Plus, the middleman being a CIA agent stationed in the Latin American region is just hilarious.
The North American Drug Trafficking Group bombs the Statue of Liberty, issues a global warrant for Pablo, but then they collaborate with them again—what kind of fantasy story is this?
CIA, you really need that cash, huh?
Just a few billion US Dollars a year?
Chump change… it's not like Lady Liberty dying matters.
After all, that's the face of the United States, not the CIA's face, brothers need to eat, they gotta have income.
Now, Jalisco's new generation has replaced Guzman's Sinaloa Drug Cartel, becoming the partners in Mexico.
They've been quite helpful.
Recruiting desperados and providing arms.
"Someone from Cali was beheaded…" Jose Armando muttered somberly, "The Northern Army's intelligence agency seems insane, grabbing everyone who shows their face, whether they're involved or not."
"Clearly, Victor is committed."
El Mencho frowned, and suddenly hearing footsteps, somewhat disordered, he looked up to see his cousin, also the group's intelligence head, Alejandro Luis Cervantes rushing in saying swiftly, "About 20,000 troops from the Northern Army surged into Jalisco, currently engaging our teams near the Ceboruco Volcano."
"Victor's appetite is huge; he hasn't fully swallowed Juarez yet and now he's after us, engaging on two fronts. He must not fear choking!" El Mencho couldn't help but laugh dangerously upon hearing this news.
"Tell our guys not to entangle with his main forces, let the guerrilla squads strike in small groups. Once the losses mount, they'll definitely run."
Alejandro Luis Cervantes nodded vigorously, "Understood!"
El Mencho nodded, caressed the side of a simple-minded boy's face, and pinched his cheek, "I gave you candy, can you do me a favor?"
The boy nodded dumbly, still smiling, led away by El Mencho, while a nun couldn't help but speak out, "Sir… sir… he's just a simpleton."
El Mencho didn't look back, glanced at his subordinate Jose Armando, who lowered his head. As they walked out the door, gunshots and cries of terror followed.
El Mencho's face darkened, his movements growing aggressive, he grabbed his arm, the simpleton immediately cried, "It hurts, uncle."
He dragged him into a small room where a lookout opened the door only to reveal a lion inside. El Mencho stroked the simpleton's head, "It's hungry, you go feed it."
He forcefully shoved him inside!
The simpleton might be dull, but he sensed something was amiss, crying and yelling, but El Mencho kicked him in the stomach, his eyes sinister as he closed the door. The lion, with a necklace around its neck in the corner, now stood up, saliva dripping from its mouth.
It looked ferociously…
And pounced with its mouth wide open!
Outside, El Mencho lit a cigarette for himself, listening to the chomping sounds inside, chuckled to himself, "Eat slowly, don't choke."
His subordinates acted as if it was nothing new.
Jalisco's new generation was known for its brutality. Before them, old-school groups like Sinaloa, as long as protection money was paid, usually didn't torment lying civilians.
But they were different—eating people with animals, acid baths, even making soldiers eat people—this was simply horrifying.
This is why Victor didn't want drug traffickers to surrender!
At worst, slaughter them all, because as long as there's peace and social stability, the population can grow back in a decade or so!
Victor's ruthlessness lies in his willingness to gamble the life of a generation of Mexicans for the next few centuries.