Working as a police officer in Mexico-Chapter 773 - 427 The Butterfly in the Northern Flapped Its Wings!_2

773: Chapter 427: The Butterfly in the Northern Flapped Its Wings!_2

773 -427: The Butterfly in the Northern Flapped Its Wings!_2

“Integrate everything into the Mexican Government system and leave it to professional talents to manage.

You can even hire professional managers.

Anyone who interferes, don’t blame me for cutting off their hand!” Victor said with narrowed eyes, his tone murderous.

Hundreds of billions of U.S.

dollars in assets…

There will always be people whose greed cannot be restrained, rushing forward to feed off it.

Casare’s body tensed, instinctively clenching his buttocks as he vigorously nodded.

Indeed, he had received many requests from people wanting to place their relatives into the companies, including high-ranking officials.

But now that the boss had spoken, anyone unhappy could take it up with the boss.

Let him tell you personally.

“Starting now, establish the ‘Honorable Soldiers Foundation.’ Twenty percent of the annual revenue from these eleven companies will go towards military welfare and support for fallen soldiers’ families.

I will personally hold the title of foundation president, you will be the vice president, and Kennedy will be the third president.

Take 100 billion pesos (5 billion U.S.

dollars) and distribute Independence Day gifts to all military families within the next week.”

“Additionally, report any family member who is disabled, severely ill, or uneducated locally, and ensure they all receive subsidies.”

“If there are significant contributions or achievements, the local mayor must personally lead a team to visit the families and offer condolences.”

“If someone sacrifices their life, the local government must send both the mayor and military officials to visit the family.”

“Compensation for sacrifice will be calculated as years served plus 20 years’ salary.”

“Disability standards will also be subsidized, divided according to grades.

Those who serve over eight years will have their children’s college tuition completely waived, with priority given for national scholarships.”

Casare listened in utter shock, shaking his head vigorously.

“Boss, even the U.S.

Military welfare isn’t this good.”

“I can’t allow my brothers to bleed and cry on the front lines.”

Victor couldn’t help but laugh at Casare’s pained expression; the man resembled a housekeeper distressed by money flowing away before it even warmed his hands.

“It’s fine; are we really afraid of running out of money?

What did we build ourselves on?

Our brothers, our military.

As long as their welfare improves, we will stand invincible.”

“But in the future…

If the military becomes too powerful, resembling a military government within Mexico?”

Victor smiled, tidying Casare’s clothes and softly said, “That’s why you need to quickly have children.

We can still hold the fort for the next 30 years.

After that, the younger generation can take over.”

“The Gonzalez Family and Vieri family shall share the rule of the world!”

Such a familiar strategy.

Didn’t he say this exact phrase to Donald too?

But with a different recipient, the response would always vary.

Casare fiercely gripped Victor’s hand, a tear gleaming in his eye.

“Boss, don’t worry, the Gonzalez Family will always be the loyal followers of the Vieri family.

Whoever your enemies are, we’ll be the first to confront them.”

“Your younger brother did well at the border conflict; he’s more than capable of being a battalion commander in the Fourth Army.

Have him work hard—I’d like to see a general emerge from our family.”

“So we must leave behind a clean Mexico for the next generation.”

Victor had already thought it through—if worse comes to worst, emulate the United Arab Emirates, create a royal family, and have many children.

It’s never a bad plan.

When Casare walked out of the office, his movements carried a breeze of fire.

As people greeted him on the way, his energy had clearly transformed.

The boss said it: I’m building an empire for myself.

What’s this called?

According to ancient Chinese concepts, a position equal to the one-worded King?!

Of course, his attitude towards the work changed too, like the difference between working for a boss’s startup versus co-founding the startup with him.

It wasn’t until after 8 p.m.

that he dragged his tired steps home.

His sister, Felikna, sat on the couch, watching TV with the volume turned up high.

Hearing the door, she immediately turned her head and ran over with a doll in her arms, “Brother, you’re home?”

Casare patted her head and glanced at the TV—it was playing “Monkey King,” a Chinese animated film introduced to Mexico in ’89.

“Why aren’t you asleep so late at night?”

The little girl lowered her head, “I…

I was feeling scared.”

“You and Felix were both not home, and Mom…

isn’t here either.

I get scared sleeping alone.” She spoke quietly, her head hung low.

These words struck a chord of sadness in Casare’s heart, filling him with guilt.

In such a large villa, despite having servants around, it was evident that there was a lack of familial warmth.

Loneliness weighed heavily on her young and fragile soul.

Hugging his sister tightly, he said, “When you miss me, just call me.

Tomorrow’s Saturday—I’ll take you to the amusement park, okay?”

“Okay!

Okay!” The little girl clapped joyfully.

Looking at his six-year-old sister, a thought suddenly crossed Casare’s mind. freёwebnoѵel.com

“Felikna, what do you think of Caesar?”

“Victor’s son?”

“I’ve met him.

He’s very cute.

Last time I saw him, his nose bubbled when he slept.

When I poked it, it popped.

Haha!

Then he even peed on me.”

“Do you like him?”

“Of course, he’s very adorable!”

Casare stroked her cheek, “Good, as long as you like him.

That’s all that matters.”

No one knew what he was truly thinking.

But his expression…

was strangely unsettling.

…

Coahuila State.

In Duragle Village near San Depele City.

This place had long been home to only about 30 households totaling less than 100 people.

It always felt quiet, with the loudest noises typically coming from cows and donkeys.

But today, it was unusually lively.

From the village entrance, the sound of firecrackers echoed along with drum beats.

Two local armed forces officers and the San Depele City mayor arrived with a large entourage.

Flanking them was a plaque that read, “Battle Hero!”

An elderly woman, looking frail, stood nervously at the doorway holding two young boys’ hands tightly.

Her calloused hands bore evidence of years of hard labor, her hair completely white, and her eyes filled with deep sorrow.