Capítulo 1455: Chapter 689: You Really Have an Opinion, Huh? (5)

He has seen blood before!

He’s also killed before.

The problem is…

Being the perpetrator and being the victim are two different feelings.

The psychological pressure on the aggressor and the victim is not the same.

For example, like the recent infamous “Vietnam Butcher” case (don’t search for it), some people like playing various roles, but when being the victim, they’re definitely shaken.

It took him a while before he trembled and picked up the satellite phone, dialing the number of his father, Old Elton, far away in the Texas Manor.

The phone rang for a long time before it was answered, and Old Elton’s tired and hoarse voice came through: “Kohl? Is it over?”

“It’s over, father.”

Kohl’s voice still carried a trace of tremor from being shocked, and he quickly recounted everything that happened in the study, especially how Victor used the ashtray to knock down Wilson, and the subsequent threats and division of interests, all in detail to Old Elton.

The other end of the line was silent for a long time, so long that Kohl thought the signal had been disconnected. “Father? Are you still listening?”

Old Elton’s heavy and aged sigh came, full of endless fatigue: “Indeed, it’s as expected, Kohl, my son, can’t you see? Victor letting you and Harris be executive directors isn’t trust at all. He lets us fight internally while he watches the show from above, easily controlling everything. He’s putting our families in a firing line! From now on, other families will hate us to the core, and to protect ourselves, we can only cling more tightly to him, doing all the dirty work for him…”

As Kohl listened to his father’s analysis, a strange glint flashed in his eyes instead: “Father, I understand! I understand it all! But this is reality, Victor’s power, you haven’t seen it with your own eyes. That absolute, undeniable power of life and death! Fear is the highest form of power, and we have no choice!”

His tone became urgent, even somewhat fervent: “Father, maybe this isn’t entirely a bad thing? Since there’s no turning back, why not tie ourselves more thoroughly to his chariot?”

“I think we should take the initiative to request that some young, capable members of the family enter Mexico’s government institutions or state-owned enterprises, even if starting from the most basic positions. We need to go deep inside, to learn, to adapt, to become a part of their system! Only then can the Breloque family find new space for survival in the future, and even rise again.”

Old Elton on the other side of the phone fell silent again.

It was as if he could see through the phone line, the light in his young son’s eyes ignited by fear and ambition.

After a long time, he finally said faintly, “Dancing with the devil, are you really ready?”

Kohl held the receiver tightly and said word by word: “Father, the era has changed. We either adapt or perish. We have no other path.”

The old man was silent for a while, then said, “The family’s future is yours, you decide.”

After hanging up the phone, Kohl walked to the window, and inexplicably, a line popped into his mind: “We are the captains of our souls!”

“I won’t make the wrong choice, Dad.”

…

The military victory in Texas did not bring true peace, but rather seemed to have stirred up a huge hornet’s nest.

Just as Victor and Casare had anticipated, the security war after the takeover was the real quagmire.

In the Third District of Houston, the southern suburbs of Dallas, the western area of San Antonio, and numerous small towns and rural roads, resistance revived in newer, more troubling forms.

The remaining enemies, who lost the capability for large-scale frontal confrontation, quickly fragmented.

The die-hard remnants of the former Stuart regime, the extremely xenophobic White extremist militia advocating “Lone Star independence,” the gangs originally surviving in the cracks and now even more unwilling to be constrained by the new Mexican order, and the deeply rooted, ruthless Latino drug cartels…

These forces might not belong to each other, or even bear mutual grudges, but in “resisting the Mexican occupation forces,” they formed a certain tacit understanding.

They don’t wear uniforms, blending in with civilians.

Their attack methods are no longer positional warfare but have turned into sniping, roadside bombs, sabotage of oil pipelines and power facilities, ambushing isolated patrols or logistics convoys, and even assassinating local officials and businessmen cooperating with the Mexican authorities.

The Mexican Army’s formidable firepower often feels like punching cotton when dealing with this omnipresent “swarm” harassment.

Tanks and heavy artillery cannot enter the narrow urban alleys, and soldiers must constantly beware of bullets fired from any window or street corner.

Especially in some Black-occupied areas centered around Houston and Beaumont, the situation is particularly complex.

Long-term marginalization, poverty, and distrust of the new Mexican rulers have made some communities natural hotbeds and sources of manpower for resistance forces.

For many young men, taking up arms against the “occupation forces” is both a form of resistance and a means to earn a living and gain status.

In these areas, Mexican military patrols struggle to advance; every cleanup operation can turn into a bloody urban battle, causing collateral casualties, further intensifying civilian conflict, and creating a vicious cycle.

Equally tricky are the drug cartels.

They couldn’t care less about who rules Texas; they only care about their smuggling routes and market share. The Mexican Army’s tight blockade and crackdown severely damage their interests, and their revenge is more direct and ruthless.