Working as a police officer in Mexico

$200 million invested into Apple Company.

Other stocks like Yahoo, IBM, and Microsoft were bought directly, all in bulk.

Suddenly, Mike Corleone became a celebrity on Wall Street.

A successful whitewash!

Now called a successful entrepreneur.

As for the dirty work below, Victor didn't want to know, but well, violence was especially effective in a United States full of robbers and bastards.

You think it's easy to get them to cast their votes?

In the morning, successful businessmen in suits go to polling stations to vote; at night, they are shit-stirrers in the darkness.

Tsk tsk tsk... Everyone has a multifaceted nature.

After all, even Jesus could be divided into three parts.

"There are few places at the table, and if you don't compete for them, you'll always be prey, Mr. Nick. I have deep affection for Belsaria, and I'm willing to help the Rumsfeld family. Mutual assistance is the key to progress, isn't it?"

Upon hearing these words, a twitch appeared at the corner of Nick's eye.

You still remember you are Belsaria's father?

I thought you were my dad.

If Victor knew what he was thinking, he might find it acceptable—each with their own perspective; I call you "brother," you call me "good son-in-law"?

The meal Nick had was a tormenting experience.

When he was sent out from the Governor's Mansion, he wiped the sweat from his forehead and subconsciously looked back, his scalp tingling at the sight of Victor standing by a rooftop window, waving at him.

!!!

Just like a horror movie.

"The United States is still too urbanized," he muttered to himself.
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Recently, he had become more verbose.

If Old Bush dies in the hospital, will "Hero Teddy" take over, or will the Boss Party continue to maintain their status?

Could a real mess break out?

To go for a kill shot now wouldn't be easy, though. The Special Service has it locked down tight, inside and out; reaching the target would be as hard as reaching the blue sky.

Victor watched as Nick got into his car and tossed his cigarette butt on the ground.

We'll start from the inside then!

He wanted to see if the Rumsfeld family had the drive to climb even higher.

Thump, thump, thump.

There came a knock at the door.

"Come in."

Rudendorf hurried in, "General, the drug trafficker rebels are attacking Licom State, clashing with the military in the town of Tekoman to the south, and drug traffickers from Michoacan, New Leon State, and San Luis Potosi State are counterattacking to the north. One of our airports in Coahuila State was bombed, we lost 17 people."

Upon hearing this, Victor glanced at the map of Mexico hanging on the wall.

Is this a full-scale counteroffensive?

Moreover, the remnants of the Institutional Party calling for autonomous elections have colluded with the Southern drug traffickers!

They still think they should eliminate Northern Victor first.

After all, he really did prevent many people from becoming rich; killing him, Mexico would return to the past, the Institutional Party would "reascend to the throne," drug traffickers would resume their trade, and money would flow again.

The common people would resume planting economic crops.

How nice?

"The U.S. Military has suddenly increased its deployment to our border. If we pull our troops to the front, if the U.S. Military starts a war, we will have no defense forces left at the border. If they wish, they could rush into Mexico in an instant."

"Let's go, gather in the staff meeting room, call everyone for a meeting!" Victor's expression turned solemn.

Three factions of shit-stirrers planned to stir up some shit in his territory!

...

In Mexico City, within the National Palace.

Casare's expression was ugly.

With the sudden surge of the Institutional Party, the attitudes of some old politicians in the city had suddenly changed; they began to defy Casare in secret.

With Vice President Ulmitt Raymond Haridy taking the lead, dappling around, after all, the General's grace hadn't spread here yet.

Coupled with media propaganda, the attitudes of the public, soldiers, and politicians were not very friendly.

"Sir, it's time we left," whispered Jason Bourne, dispatched from the Governor's Mansion.

Per the Governor's Mansion's instructions, leave Mexico City!

Within one month of arriving, there had been over 100 assassination attempts against Northern Army soldiers, some thwarted and some successful.

This city holds no significance anymore!

Currently, not in Victor's interest.

Casare stood up, took a deep breath, his eyes dark with malice, Damnit, these mutts hardly let him serve as President for long.

"Bring in Lieutenant Colonel Erich Manstein for me."

Jason Bourne gave him a look and nodded.

Minutes later, the two walked in again.

"Sir!"

Casare grabbed Manstein's shoulders, locking eyes with him, "Lieutenant Colonel, the Northern Army needs you, I need you, the General needs you!"

...

The pouring rain obscured the moon's light, shrinking it behind the clouds; the streets were terrifyingly quiet, except for the clamor of the heavy rain.

Located behind the National Palace was the barracks of the Fourth Battalion.

Manstein, not wearing a raincoat or any rain gear, stood on the steps, gazing down at his soldiers with an expressionless face and raised his hand, "Heaven punish the national traitors!"

"Loyalty!!!"

The group raised their hands and shouted loudly.

Then, under the leadership of their platoon leaders, they broke into more than twenty small groups and launched a "military coup" in the cover of the rainy night.

Lieutenant Colonel Manstein, with more than twenty soldiers, drove a Humvee toward the residential area of Vice President Ulmitt Raymond Haridy.

His residence was about 2 kilometers from the National Palace in a wealthy villa complex!

Inside, lights blazed, accompanied by singing and cheers.

The guards at the gate were on duty; startled by the many figures rushing out in the rainy night, they loudly demanded to know who it was.

But what met them was only the sound of gunfire.