Working as a police officer in Mexico-Chapter 778 - 429 To a Warlord, a Financial Tycoon is just a cash cow!

778: Chapter 429: To a Warlord, a Financial Tycoon is just a cash cow!

778 -429: To a Warlord, a Financial Tycoon is just a cash cow!

Top-floor office of the National Palace.

Victor gently tapped his fingers on the desk while talking on the phone.

On the other end, The Pentagon’s Defense Minister, Mr.

Donald, was passionately speaking, “You’ve gone too far.

Wall Street is very unhappy with you.

You’ve made a big fuss about those financial tycoons.”

“Quite a few offspring of financial tycoons who fled to the United States are now criticizing you in the news.

Do you realize how much damage this has done to your reputation?”

“The United States’ capital perceives you as entirely unwelcoming to them.

They’re calling you a tyrant.”

“Some institutions have even placed your country on their list of nations not worth investing in!”

Donald spoke with a tone that was almost pleading:

“If you want development, you can’t possibly do it without them.”

Victor paused his tapping, “Wall Street?

What kind of thing is that?”

“Capital is just a dog.

If there’s twenty percent profit, capital starts stirring.

If there’s fifty percent profit, capital takes risks.

If there’s one hundred percent profit, capital dares to face the danger of being hanged.

If there’s three hundred percent profit, capital tramples all earthly laws without a care.”

His tone carried a heavy disdain, “Even if they know I’m wielding a butcher knife, the 140-million person market of Mexico is too lucrative for them to walk away from.

Those financial tycoons sit above the clouds, looking down on everything, and I insist on dragging them down, telling them: You want to make money?

Fine.

But power and status—you can only have them if I decide to give them to you.”

“If I don’t give them to you, you cannot take them!”

“Sir, the United States is like a dumb pig controlled by capital, but Mexico isn’t.

The real pigs are the capital itself, the financial tycoons.

When I’m unhappy, I’ll pull a few of them out and slaughter them.

Those eleven bleeding tycoons—do you know what I obtained from them?”

Victor’s tone grew resolute, “I earned the loyalty of my soldiers, the adoration of the people, and funds to rebuild grassroots infrastructure.

And capital—given enough time—it grows back like weeds, slowly and steadily.”

Donald was left dumbfounded.

So…

For warlords, aren’t capitalists essentially weeds?

The old defense minister felt the urge to rebut; he wanted to say this was terrible for Victor’s image.

But upon second thought, who cares about image?

Victor’s current image boiled down to two words: unhinged!

Yet he had to admit there was some truth to Victor’s words.

Capital isn’t a person or an organization—it’s a form.

As long as there are people, there will always be capital.

“Mr.

Donald, Mexico’s key necessity isn’t the financial tycoons—it’s me,” Victor remarked with a profound air.

The old defense minister half-opened his mouth, wanting to respond, but the words faltered with no confidence behind them, “But you can’t just keep relying on violence once capital grows back, can you?”

“Whoever controls violence controls money, not the other way around.

If I say something is white, it’s white.

If I say something is black, it’s black.

If I say you’ve disrupted the market, then you’ve disrupted the market.

You think evidence is hard to fabricate?”

“As long as the fire isn’t burning them yet, capitalists always think about luck, not unity.”

These words held undeniable logic.

Look at India—a country that’s been screwing over foreign investors for sixty years…

Vodafone was robust, wasn’t it?

They nearly cornered India, but India simply amended its laws and, guess what?

The government won.

Though such “pig-slaughter tactics” discouraged many from investing in India, look—do they ever actually lack investors?

Even knowing it’s a dung pit, people still jump in.

And Mexico’s geography dictates that anyone wanting to do business in North America can’t bypass it.

Especially now that Victor expanded the ports, turning the number of deep-water ports in North and South Lower California State from three to eight, with plans to create economic model ports.

In other words, products shipped here won’t be taxed—just complete a simple form.

The main purpose?

Stimulating the surrounding economy.

There will be no shortage of people coming.

Seeing Victor’s attitude as “a dung beetle sitting on a latrine—doing nothing,” Donald lost the desire to continue arguing over this matter.

“As long as you have control, that’s what matters.”

“Once the elections are over, further discussions on US-Mexico relations will take place.”

Victor raised an eyebrow, “The Republican Party’s prospects look pretty bleak lately…”

Under the offensive of that husband-wife duo, they’ve been retreating step by step.

Almost no one can put up a fight.

The only capable one is lying in a hospital bed, reportedly vomiting blood late last night.

The old defense minister fell silent for a moment, “Politics is the art of compromise.

No matter what, the position of Defense Minister is mine.”

Victor smiled faintly upon hearing this, “Good luck.”

After hanging up the phone, he sat silently, contemplating.

The only sound in the office was his breathing.

Ever since the shooting targeting mayoral candidates during Virginia’s Hampton city election, it had been expected that large-scale unrest and assassinations would unfold.

However, they were suppressed by a “mysterious force.”

It seems…

The two U.S.

parties can still restrain themselves.

But Victor wasn’t afraid of whoever took power.

If you want peace, I’ll give you peace; if you want to play games, I’ll go all-in.

If I’m not satisfied with the benefits, I’ll flip the table!

Ring ring~

The phone on the desk abruptly interrupted his thoughts.

“Hello~”

“General, this is Horatio.

Latest update: Heinrich von Stravitz’s armored army has occupied Morelos State and overtaken the capital, Cuernavaca.”

Victor: ???

He lifted his head to glance at the clock on the wall, which read: 3:32 PM.

Since 9 AM, they conquered an entire state in six hours?