10 AM.
50 emergency team members boarded troop transport vehicles, while Victor and Harrison got into a BTR-40 armored personnel carrier with "Prisión de la meseta de México (Mexico Altiplano Prison)" written in green paint.
With this thing, why fear bullets?
It cost Victor over 50,000 points to exchange. Though it was 1950 equipment, it was born in 1944, so it just hit the key point of WWII, with some price reservation.
And for firepower, they'd welded on a 14.5mm machine gun.
Yuri and Koster worked all night.
As for whether higher-ups would ask about its origin, just blame the previous warden. After all, who would care?
The prison gates slowly opened as the convoy drove out.
Guards at the entrance still saluted.
Victor saw many people staking out outside, looking shifty. He frowned, "Drive all these people away. Altiplano Prison isn't some chicken coop - what's the point of hanging around the entrance?"
"I don't know about other places. Even if they went to shit at the presidential palace, it's none of my business. But on my turf, you follow rules."
Harrison in the passenger seat also glanced outside. Since the boss had spoken, he'd do it. He'd figured out that following Victor meant at least not going hungry.
Moreover, he really stood up for his subordinates.
Harrison agreed.
Misqui Town was located southeast of the capital Mexico City, nicknamed "Ghost Village," often visited by foreigners.
According to Aztec calendar, November 1st each year was Day of the Dead, lasting about three days. According to Mexican folk customs, the 1st was "Children's Day of the Dead," while the 2nd was "Adults' Day of the Dead."
Used to remember the deceased.
Later Pixar Animation Studios made an animated film "Coco" about this holiday.
Misqui Town was named after Misco, the Indian goddess who governed life and death, with over 900 years of history.
In 1403, this town became a ritual center for local Indians.
Entering the town, they saw residents and tourists dressed as "spirits" everywhere - you couldn't even count how many people there were.
Seeing this scene, Victor felt pressure.
Harrison had arranged a plan - groups of ten divided into five teams patrolling around the armored vehicle as center, reporting any problems via radio.
Of course this big town wasn't just their group - there was also the local police station. He just hoped nothing would happen.
Daytime foot traffic was still manageable. Many tourists just reported stolen wallets - Victor wouldn't handle such trivial matters, telling them to report to the police station.
But the possibility of recovery was like a Komodo dragon remaining intact in India.
However, after nightfall around 7 PM, foot traffic suddenly surged. Looking around, there were heads everywhere.
Victor was holding a lunch box, taking two bites. It tasted like pig slop and was a bit rancid, so he spat it out.
"Ptui ptui ptui, why does it all stink?" Harrison spat out the chicken wrap from his mouth, frowning.
Someone was definitely taking kickbacks - what else could it be?
"Officer, officer..."
Just as nearby guards were also complaining, a tall man in black clothes with skull makeup ran over, looking panicked, grabbing Harrison's arm, "My daughter and wife are missing."
"Sir, please calm down. Tell us slowly - when and where?" Harrison quickly comforted him.
The man spoke fluent English, obviously a tourist, "We were just following the crowd in a parade. Then they encountered a puppet and wanted photos, so they had me take pictures. But right after I finished shooting, I felt someone pat my shoulder, but there was no one there. When I turned back around, they were both gone."
This man was obviously educated. Though panicked, he remained relatively calm while explaining.
Harrison looked at Victor, saying in Spanish, "It should be that puppet. He encountered human traffickers."
Mexico was one of the world's most dangerous countries, with about over 10,000 people disappearing annually, mostly women.
Mexico was also an important source country for organ smuggling and live human trafficking.
Where did these people come from?
Wasn't it just random?
Victor put his hands on his hips, "Where's the biggest gang here?"
Harrison had made a planning chart, "At Rodrigo Maciado Game Arcade, a gang called Futuro (Future)."
"Get in the car, let's go see."
As police, ensuring citizens' personal safety - wasn't that proper?
The armored vehicle led the way, followed by 20 guards, heading majestically toward the arcade.
"That's the puppet! That's him!"
Arriving at the arcade entrance, the reporting man in the car excitedly pointed at a puppet coming out from inside.
The other was carrying a bag, distributing candy to children along the way.
"Harrison, bring 10 people with me. Bring submachine guns. The rest stay and wait for backup."
Victor got out of the vehicle. The puppet also saw him. The two stared at each other, then the latter suddenly walked over, looked at him, and pulled out candy from his pocket to offer him.
Victor smiled, patted his shoulder, "My teeth haven't been good lately, I need to quit sugar." He then walked around him and led people into the arcade.
He had no interest in such small fry.
Standing at the entrance with hands on hips, Harrison led two guards into the ticket booth where a shifty young man sat chewing gum, "What's up, sir?"
"Inspection!"
Victor's gaze swept over everyone. There weren't many people here - with big parties happening outside, who would come play games?
He immediately spotted a man sitting in front of a game machine, wearing a tank top, mainly for the tattoo on it - a bat.
Victor led people over, standing behind him. He was playing Street Fighter, which came out in 1987 and swept the globe.
"Can we chat?" Victor stood behind him.
But the person turned around, looked at him with disdainful eyes, sizing him up and down, then spat his chewing gum onto Victor's shoe before turning back.
Victor looked down at the chewing gum, smiling very civilly.
Suddenly he grabbed the gaming man's hair and forcefully smashed his head against the game machine. The originally thick glass made cracking sounds as the other screamed.
The game machine screen flickered a few times, then went dark.
Victor wasn't satisfied, pressing the head down and continuing to smash.
"Hey, what are you doing! Causing trouble!" the subordinate at the ticket booth shouted. Harrison immediately slapped him, "Shut up, who told you to speak?"
This subordinate got angry, raising his hand to fight him. A nearby guard raised his gun butt and smashed it over - he immediately became obedient.
Victor smashed over ten times before his hand got sore and he let go. The other was convulsing all over, face covered in blood.
That subordinate's voice was quite loud. They saw over ten people run out from inside the arcade, holding clubs.
Standing among this group was a middle-aged man in a suit and glasses, looking very refined. Seeing the badly beaten subordinate, he frowned, looked up at Victor.
"Sir, young people don't understand. I apologize for him. Give me face and let him go."
"Give you face?" Victor looked at him, nodded, lifted his foot, pointing at the chewing gum on it, "Lick it clean."
With these words, the man's face immediately darkened. The subordinates beside him got bolder, waving clubs and about to charge at Victor.
Victor pulled back the bolt of his submachine gun and pointed it at them.
"Gentlemen, I came for gunfights - gunfights with real men. You call yourselves a gang?"
"Come on!"
Victor pulled the trigger - rat-a-tat-tat twice.
Two nearby subordinates were directly shot, clutching their stomachs and lying on the ground.
"Oh~"
"Sorry, misfired, bastards!"
(End of Chapter)
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