The next day.
Around 10 AM.
Two official cars with "APM" written on their sides entered Altiplano Prison.
This was the abbreviation for Prison Management Bureau.
"One, two, three!"
Outside on the exercise yard, you could see several formations of prisoners led by guards doing running exercises. When they became listless, someone would beat them with sticks.
This was real beating!
Alejandro and others in the car nearly had their eyes pop out seeing this scene.
Since when did Mexican prisons have drills?
As long as one fewer guard died each day, the Prison Management Bureau's KPI was met.
Two sedans drove to the office building. Casare in uniform stood at the entrance waiting.
Alejandro and others got out, frowning, "Where's Victor?"
"Waiting for the officers upstairs!"
This statement made everyone present somewhat unhappy. You're just a small inspector, while our lowest rank is assistant to the Federal Security Department, many levels above you.
But looking at each other, no one was foolish enough to jump out. They could only suppress their displeasure and follow Casare to the office.
As soon as they pushed open the door, they were stunned by the scene before them.
Victor was lying on the ground laying out banknotes. Hearing the commotion, he was just stuffing a peso bill under the desk corner. He got up from the ground, looked up, "Good morning, officers."
"What are you doing?" Alejandro asked with a frown.
Victor clapped his hands, "There wasn't time to lay new flooring for you officers, but I'm quite hospitable, so I laid out a money path for everyone!"
"Please come in and sit."
Alejandro looked at his security department colleagues, who also looked at him. He could only bite the bullet and walk in. Indeed, stepping on pesos felt different.
Several people entered the office and saw Victor sitting on the sofa with his legs crossed, while stacks of money were placed on the coffee table, looking frightening.
"Take whatever you want, officers. But I have one matter - I want to be warden. Who agrees? Who objects?"
Alejandro and others were immediately confused.
"Where's Webster?" asked a middle-aged man in a suit with very neat hair, speaking in a deep voice.
"Very unfortunately, he was stabbed to death by prisoners yesterday."
Dead!
What kind of joke was this?
So sudden?
Everyone present was smart and immediately looked at Victor.
"He's dead. Don't I, as deputy warden, have the right to succeed him?"
"This is knowingly breaking the law. You have no authority to serve as warden. We don't agree with this matter. We will definitely investigate clearly!" The middle-aged man stood up with a dark face and started cursing, "Let's go!"
He led two young colleagues preparing to leave.
Victor's smile immediately disappeared. Watching him walk around the coffee table, he picked up a nearby baseball bat and suddenly stood up, smashing it on the other's back of the head.
Directly knocked him to the ground.
Still not satisfied, he continued smashing.
The guard at the door glanced and closed the door.
The middle-aged man screamed and raised his hands to block.
"Damn! I give you face and you don't want it. Investigate me? How many lives do you have!"
Victor directly beat him until the baseball bat broke. Alejandro and others from other departments didn't dare come forward to stop him. Even the young people the middle-aged man brought were somewhat at a loss.
After the stick broke, Victor kicked him a few more times, slightly sweating as he turned back to look at those sitting on the sofa, too scared to make a sound.
"I'm very fair in my work. You want money, I give it to you. I just want the warden position. Name your price. If you can't handle it, bring him to get money. I don't believe there's anyone in Mexico who doesn't take bribes!"
Victor said this while pulling open his bookshelf cabinet, which was neatly stacked with pesos.
These were all sanitation fees.
Last night Casare collected money all night. Those who didn't pay? Stand on tiptoes squatting beside the toilet in the bathroom. If you fell down?
Heh heh heh... there would be suffering to endure.
Did you think coming in as a prisoner meant being the boss?
Did you think Victor was that kind of good person?
Entering prison meant being criminals. Honestly, don't know about other places, but if you killed everyone in Mexican prisons, not one would be innocent.
When Victor took power someday, the first thing he'd do was collect sanita... wrong, restore the death penalty!
Crime without fear of death was just playing house.
Altiplano Prison's 5,000 prisoners brought Victor about 1.2 million pesos in "revenue" monthly.
Indeed, power was the greatest wealth.
Alejandro and others looked at all that cash. Someone swallowed saliva. Victor looked toward the sound and smiled. It was a young man who hadn't developed the thick skin of old foxes yet. Being stared at like this, his face turned red.
"Casare, get bags for our new friends." Victor ordered. Casare, already prepared, handed over the bags.
"One minute - however much money you can grab is yours!"
He looked at his watch, "Begin!"
Those who got bags rushed over and started frantically grabbing.
Victor didn't feel sorry at all.
Money only counted as money when spent. Unspent money was just paper. Valuable things were money; worthless things were waste.
"Officer, I prepared your share. I had someone deliver it to your house. No need to compete with children for games." Victor sat beside Alejandro and said with a smile.
Hearing this, the other's facial expression relaxed slightly. He hesitated, "You want to be warden? I haven't been transferred yet so I can speak up, but you hit security department people..."
"He's not dead, just taught him a lesson."
"He lost face."
"Face? How much is that worth? Alejandro, everyone comes out to sell, just selling different parts."
Victor laughed hearing this, lit a cigarette for himself, casually threw the lighter which slid across the table, "Isn't it just a broken head? I'll apologize to him."
With that, he stood up, "Sorry!"
He even kicked him once, then turned to Alejandro and shrugged, "He tacitly agreed I forgave him."
"I don't have big appetites. Webster is dead - shouldn't I take his position? When doing business, I'm reasonable."
Violence?
Use that when reason doesn't work.
Alejandro nodded for the sake of face (money), "I'll do my best."
"Thank you for your hard work. By the way, there's one more thing."
Victor smiled somewhat "bashfully," "I've become quite an official now. I have some relatives back home I want to bring in."
This was to give Kennedy Heisenberg and others an identity so they could eat government rice.
Such small matters normally didn't need to be mentioned to him.
But they'd need to make some reputation later, so this was giving him advance warning.
"Time's up!" Casare said quietly from the side.
Victor looked at his watch, turned to see those people had even taken off their suits to carry money, still dropping some outside.
He said generously, "One more minute."
"I'm generous with new friends!"
(End of Chapter)
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