Victor's methods shocked the world!
Many countries started to refer to him as the "North American Tyrant," "Satan," and other such names.
Even in a roadside survey in Malaysia, Victor was rated as the man closest to Little Mustache since World War II!
His popularity directly surpassed the "Three Great Tyrants of Africa," namely the President of Uganda, Amin, Emperor Bokassa of Central Africa, and President Mobutu of Zaire, becoming unparalleled!
The youth idolized him, seeing him as a superhero, while those whose interests had been severed lurked in the shadows, endlessly cursing him with faces grim and eyes filled with malice!
Watch him build high-rises, host sumptuous feasts, and then see his towers fall!!!
Victor was involved in more than just drugs—organ transplants, human trafficking, and even kidnapping; anyone caught was killed on the spot.
How could those wealthy folks waiting for life-extension stand the wait?
If they couldn't get to Victor, couldn't they just go after his subordinates?
On January 13, at ten in the morning, Rudendorf, stationed in Guadalajara, was attacked by a gunman while inspecting a shopping center, but luckily he was unharmed, and the gunman was killed!
At the same time, Joseph Xiafei also encountered a suicide attack in Juarez, causing 3 deaths and 27 injuries among the pedestrians nearby; he was unscathed.
And at eleven o'clock.
A special train entered Mexico City's train station.
An area was already under martial control!
Anyone with any official capacity was there; today was the "imperial envoy's" inauguration.
Of course, they had to come and get acquainted.
Jason Bourne looked solemnly at Casare, "I think it's better not to get off the train, how about we go straight to the National Palace?"
"Are you afraid I'll die here?" Casare laughed, his increasingly plump cheeks quivering as he did.
He looked amiable when he laughed, but those outside didn't think so; his nickname was straightforward: Lapdog!
Whoever he caught, he bit!
Jason Bourne fell silent for a moment, "It's just dangerous..."
"If I die here, millions of people in Mexico City would have to be buried with me; you know that, the Boss loves only me."
Those were words that left no room for response.
Put it this way—if Victor were the Emperor and looking for company in his room, Casare would have to be the man standing by the door.
Mexico City would be ruins by tomorrow.
"Let's go, let's not keep the gentlemen from Mexico waiting." Casare adjusted his suit and tie and stepped down from the train.
The people standing outside, regardless of their actual feelings, all clapped, the applause thunderous!
Casare smiled as he raised his hands slightly above his head, clapping slowly.
"Mr. President, my name is Ulmitt Raymond Haridy," a middle-aged man wearing glasses hurriedly approached, looking nervous.
You ask why he was so nervous?
Because he had just taken office.
As for the former vice president?
He was thrown in jail directly because of Mr. Cuauhtémoc.
Basically, everyone had been replaced.
"This is from the civil service department..."
"This is from the intelligence department..."
Ulmitt Raymond Haridy introduced each person to Casare, who wore a smile on his face.
"Let's head to the National Palace first; they've already prepared a press conference there, awaiting your speech."
Casare nodded his head and glanced at Jason Bourne beside him, who turned and waved his hand, and then from the train four or five tank doors opened and tanks rolled out!
"Sorry, I prefer my own vehicle!"
Vice President Ulmitt Raymond Haridy's expression stiffened instantly, and with a forced laugh, he said, "Mr. President, it's very safe in Mexico City now."
"I'm afraid if something happens to me, it would be unsafe for all of you," Casare said with significant implication.
After getting into a tank, they headed for the National Palace.
To send him there, the Northern Army had dispatched a battalion, and the battalion commander was Erich Manstein!
After returning from the overseas battlefield, he was directly promoted to battalion commander, skipping two ranks!
Meanwhile, Rommel and Fedor von Bock were sent to study at the Northern Military Academy.
Rumors said that Victor intended to appoint Rommel as the division commander of the soon-to-be-established Marine Division.
From a battalion commander directly to a division commander...
Even if it's just a rumor, it's wild enough.
During World War II, the so-called warrior Patton took four years to go from a brigade commander to the head of an army group, and Eisenhower took only four years to go from a colonel to a five-star admiral.
But that was during wartime...
One could only say, once favored by the powerful, even if you were a dog, you could be an air force marshal, right, Thai King?
Casare could feel the slowly growing malice from the roadside, almost everyone's gaze upon him filled with dissatisfaction, loathing, and hatred.
"The land to the South still hasn't been graced by the General's blessings."
He said to Jason Bourne standing beside him, "The people in big cities are always , looking down on those coming from the North."
"That's why the General sent you here," the other said, his voice muffled.
Casare remained modest, waving his hand.
He was just the vanguard; what could 1,000 men do? At least a division would need to be dispatched behind them, with 20,000 men sitting here able to launch a central bloom tactic, surely frightening the drug traffickers into howling, and the most important thing—the location allowed for radiating influence into several countries in Central America.
Are you too close to the drug traffickers?
I'll have my guns pointed right at you!
RNMD, I've been displeased with you for long.
You can't bicker with me just because you can't mess with the Yanks, can you handle it, you "eight wastes" of Central America?
Once the troops arrive, the people of Mexico City will become friendly.
As the convoy reached the National Palace, one could clearly see the ruins still remaining; the previous explosion had clearly been powerful.