Looking at the clean, tender face, the female medic nodded with satisfaction. "No matter what happens in the future, you must stay clean. Life may be a mess, but as long as you're alive, there's meaning and hope, isn't there?"
As she spoke, she patted his head, smiled, and turned to leave.
"You… what's your name?" the little boy suddenly asked.
"Look here. We are the army for the people." The female medic pointed to the armband on her sleeve.
The boy nodded, half understanding, half not.
He didn't really know why he was standing there. The neighbor next door said that if he went to greet the Government Forces, he could get something to eat. So, he came.
He looked up at the troops, and a tiny seed was planted deep in his small heart. Someday, when he grew up, he would… he must find her.
Yucatan. Mérida. The National Palace.
The phone on Arturo Desena's desk was ringing incessantly.
"What? Morelos State has fallen? Useless! Useless! Where's the local militia? The local police? The local armed forces? They just waltzed right into the municipal government? Where's the Governor? Execute him! Execute him!"
The office echoed with his roar. Slamming the phone down, Arturo Desena's face was ashen as his lips trembled with anger.
Nothing had gone right today.
From the moment he took the first call in the early morning…
It was all about surprise attacks from the Government Forces, followed by… radio silence.
When he asked how things had gone, they only said that the enemy's firepower was too overwhelming, and everything was lost.
Did Arturo Desena not already know what kind of cowards they were?
Every single one of them had bolted.
For a moment, he considered sending Los Zetas over, but after a brief hesitation, he dashed the idea. What kind of joke was that? This force was his lifeline. If they were crushed on the frontlines, what then?
How could he continue his quest for power?
The sons of those Gulf Group scum Abrego would swoop in on him in an instant.
The door creaked open gently, and the "Deputy Defense Minister" and "Minister of Foreign Affairs" of the Southern Government, Endric Vinicius, stepped in. Seeing the floor littered with papers, his eyes flickered.
"Another tourist murder case happened in Cancun—this time, a Filipino couple. The local chamber of commerce has expressed their dissatisfaction, demanding we punish the murderer severely. They're saying they can't continue conducting their business."
Arturo Desena cursed aloud at the news.
A serial killer had recently appeared in Cancun, but the local police were utterly incapable. They were just a bunch of thugs—how could they possibly solve anything?
Even with intelligence from the drug traffickers in the area, they still couldn't catch him…
It was as if this killer had come out of nowhere.
Cancun's tourism industry had suffered a catastrophic blow. This was already the eighth murder case targeting foreign tourists.
"Just find someone to take the fall, then execute them publicly. Announce to the public that we've caught the culprit. Go search the slums."
Endric Vinicius nodded. "Also, there are more and more homeless people on the streets..."
"Do you really need to come to me about that?"
Arturo Desena rudely interrupted him. "If you don't like the look of them, just call a bulldozer to clear them away."
He was clearly… reaching his limit with his temper.
Slumping back into his chair, he grabbed a cigarette, wanting to light it for himself. But, as if his frustration weren't enough, the lighter wouldn't work after several attempts, making him so furious that he hurled it against the wall. It smashed with a loud bang.
Hearing the commotion, people outside rushed in. "Sir…"
"Get out. Get out of here!"
The guards exchanged glances, then looked at Endric, who gave a faint nod. Only then did they retreat slowly.
No matter how decisive Arturo appeared on the surface, men like him—rash and aggressive—tended to have the most unstable emotions. A drug trafficker, even if he had once served as some state prosecutor, was still just that. When trouble came, all he could do was yell.
Useless piece of trash!
Endric inwardly held him in greater disdain, though he kept his face carefully humble. Bowing, he stooped to gather the scattered documents from the floor. "Sir, I've been informed about the situation in the three border states. But I don't think it's necessarily a bad thing."
Arturo's bloodshot eyes shot toward him.
The other man kept his deferential posture, his plump body twisting slightly. "Look, Cuernavaca is only 85 kilometers from Mexico City. Our firepower cannot match the Northern Army. If we concentrate our forces there, we'll only be walking into a beating, and our losses will be even worse."
"Most importantly, the Gulf Group has people entrenched from top to bottom in those areas. We can't even get our people in. Now that it's fallen, it's the ones in Georgia who will be most anxious."
"After all, we weren't collecting a single cent of taxes from there anyway."
Arturo frowned, clearly agitated. "But Victor has shown a clear tendency to head south. Once he takes those three states, the terrain below will be wide open for him. It won't take long for him to rush straight down."
"I see things differently, sir. The wars this year have been too frequent, and logistics are a significant issue for Victor. Even if he's raided a few financial tycoons and has money, the burden he's carrying is enormous as well."
Endric began analyzing the situation for him. "I think they'll stop and consolidate instead of continuing southward. What we've lost are three useless states."
"What we need to do now is eliminate Georgia. Kill him, and the other drug traffickers won't pose a serious threat anymore. Then the Southern Government will be fully under your control, and at that point, we can rebuild our forces and face Victor in a decisive battle."
"Who will win in the end? It's still anyone's guess. The final victory—that is the true victory!"