Capítulo 1472: Chapter 694: In This Game, Players Never Run Out

He acknowledged the factual loss of Texas but defined it as a “temporary predicament” and a “call to arms that motivates us to rise up.”

“We should make America great again!”

…

Mexico City, Chapultepec Castle.

This is a place where Victor often stays.

Sunlight streamed in through the massive floor-to-ceiling windows, lighting up the room brightly, creating a stark contrast to the tranquility of the garden outside the window.

Victor lounged on the small balcony, holding an English newspaper in his hand.

The headline was a summary of Little Bush’s national speech, accompanied by a columnist’s article, lavishly portraying the determination to “make America great again.”

“Listen, buddy, ‘make America great again’.”

“I’m almost moved to tears; I wish I could be at work 25 hours a day now.”

Casare sat across from him, his obese body almost sunk into the chair. He chuckled, his small eyes squinting into slits: “Sounds inspiring.”

“Too many stimulants will only accelerate heart failure.”

Victor stood up, twisted his neck, making a bone-cracking sound. “Reform? Revival? Easy to say, but all of it requires money, vast amounts of money. Road construction, military building, agricultural subsidies, technological updates, pacifying the lower classes—each is a gold-devouring beast.”

He turned around, “And where is the United States’ money? In the pockets of those greedy bankers on Wall Street, in the bottomless pit of The Pentagon’s military expenditures, in the maintenance costs of global military bases, and more so in the hands of those entrenched, unyielding vested interest groups. Does Little Bush want to snatch meat from their mouths to feed a great dream? Ha.”

“I feel like he won’t last long!”

Casare nodded upon hearing this.

Just then, the office door was gently knocked on.

“Come in,” answered Victor.

The door opened, and the Vice Director of the Special Service and Victor’s close guard commander, Rohus Mishi, walked in.

“Sir, Mr. Casare.” Mishi bowed slightly in greeting, “Urgent intelligence briefing from Hydra, top priority.” He handed the intelligence to Victor.

Victor took it and quickly browsed through. Initially, his expression was fairly calm, but soon, his brow furrowed deeply, and his gaze became heavy.

After reading, he was silent for a few seconds, then turned to Casare: “You take a look at this too.”

Casare took the intelligence with some confusion, and as he read further, his trademark smile completely vanished, replaced by surprise and a hint of bewilderment.

The intelligence detailed Ethan Hunt’s discovery in Toronto, a new synthetic drug “Extraterrestrial Object,” a mysterious Asian chemical genius “Second Brother,” and key figure, Chinese descendant businessman Ye Zhenli.

The report noted that the organization was exploiting the gap left by the traditional drug lord forces in Mexico, using advanced technology, more covert channels, and more ruthless methods, seizing the drug market in North America and even Europe at unprecedented speed and scale, with their share estimated to account for over 85% of the emerging circulation field.

Preliminary cooperative relationships with European Mafia and several important associations have also been established. More disturbing is that their reach is beginning to extend to other Latin American regions, encroaching upon territories originally belonging to local drug lords.

“This…” Casare raised his head and looked at Victor, his tone full of disbelief, “An Asian drug trafficking group? Gaining momentum so fast? Occupying 85% of the new product market? This ‘Second Brother’, Ye Zhenli… their operations are very discreet, almost evading all our monitoring networks.”

Victor’s brow furrowed tightly, and he walked to the world map, his finger tracing across Asia, finally resting on North America.

“Guzman likes to open the road with submarines and heavy weapons, Pablo Escobar dared to fly planes to the United States to transport drugs back then, even armed confrontation with the government, they were flamboyant, violent, eager for the whole world to know their names.”

Victor slowly said, “But these Asian groups, they are like shadows, silent, yet with more advanced chemical technology and more precise business operations, they have almost taken over the underworld. They do not seek fame, only profit and control; this is more dangerous.”

He turned around, looking at Casare and Mishi: “We just broke one of the old legs of the North American drug supply chain, but now, a more cunning, more efficient, and more elusive new leg has quietly attached, even growing stronger.”

The office fell into a brief silence. The noise of Mexico City outside the window seemed to come from another world.

Victor’s gaze refocused, becoming decisive and sharp.

“Casare.”

“Boss.”

“Immediately mobilize all intelligence resources, domestic and from Hydra, thoroughly investigate who this ‘Second Brother’ really is, all of Ye Zhenli’s networks, fund flows, transport channels, dig it out inch by inch! I want to know how they operate, where their laboratories are!”

“Understood!” Casare immediately replied, his expression serious.

“Mishi.”

“Yes, sir.”

“Strengthen surveillance on our existing territories, especially at ports, on the circulation of chemical products. Notify intelligence departments of friendly Latin American countries, share relevant information, and alert them to this new force if there are any signs of ‘Extraterrestrial Object’ or similar new drugs entering.”

“Yes, sir!” Mishi snapped a salute and took the order.

Victor walked back to the map, gazing at the vast Pacific Ocean.

“We just sent away a noisy Puma,” he murmured, as if to himself, but also seemed to be declaring, “Now, looks like a silent Asian Cobra is coming.”

A trace of fatigue appeared in his eyes.

“This high-profit game of drugs will never be short of players.”