Working as a police officer in Mexico

The AT4 anti-tank rocket launcher is actually the export version of the M86 anti-tank rocket launcher.

"AT4" literally refers to 84, meaning it has an 84mm caliber.

Load it with a high-explosive anti-tank round…

Really, even a Gundam would have to cry for mama.

Kennedy Heisenberg ordered the launch of 4 rocket launchers, and in an instant, that glamorous mansion was blasted into a dangerous wreck.

After adjusting the monocular night vision device, he led his squad into the house.

They just happened to see a woman running out.

Her face was covered in blood!

She was still wearing stockings, her eyes filled with panic.

Sleeping only to have your house blown up, anybody would be scared.

When she saw Kennedy Heisenberg and his men, her expression was clearly one of shock, but the latter raised his gun and nodded at her.

Before she died, a thought flashed through the woman's mind: Was the Mexican Army attacking?!

There's no distinction between men and women in war, and are there any good women coming out of a drug lord's family?

Just kill her and be done with it.

Kennedy Heisenberg stepped over the woman's body, half-squatted by the corner of the wall, stretched out his right arm downward, palm facing the ground, a tactical signal known as "split up and act."

He himself led his team up the stairs; the explosion had damaged the steps somewhat. Rounding a corner, they encountered Vasili Pedro, still in his pajamas, along with two of his bodyguards.

Upon locking eyes, both parties were stunned for just a fraction of a second. One of the bodyguards, panicking, raised his gun to kill him. In close quarters, the shorter gun has the greater advantage.

But Kennedy Heisenberg was a tough one. He lunged forward, grabbing the man's head and pinning the bodyguard's wrist with his body, his fist pounding deadly into the bodyguard's Adam's apple—a surely fatal strike! (Do not attempt lightly, may result in a long prison sentence).

The remaining bodyguard was also taken out by his team.

Vasili Pedro's face darkened as he saw his bodyguards killed, his heart sank, and he immediately offered a deal, "Let me go, and I'll give you 1 million US dollars!"

No small talk, just straight to paying off with money.

He had encountered such encounters before, people cornering him and then naming their price; after all, assassins have no professional ethics.

Kennedy Heisenberg grabbed Vasili's hair, "Mr. Victor asked me to tell you, goodnight."

Thwack!

The dagger in his hand pierced the man's neck. He pulled it out forcefully, wiped the dagger on Vasili Pedro's face, whose features twisted in a tremble. With his hand clutching his neck, his lips twitching, he gasped and gurgled as if his breath was sputtering out.

Thunk!

Kennedy Heisenberg blew on the smoke coming out of the pistol, "I still prefer firearms; they're more gentlemanly."

Vasili Pedro glared, his eyes wide open in death.

"Boss, the police are here!"

"Let's move!"

...

"Was the fireworks show beautiful, gentlemen?"

In the deep silence of the radio, Victor spoke with a smile.

Alejandro's breathing was somewhat rapid, "What did you do, Victor?"

"There was too much trash; I helped you clean up a bit, no need to thank me, it's my duty as a police officer. If there's anything else, please come to my office tomorrow morning, superiors. Good night, sweet dreams."

Victor hung up the phone, tossed it to Casare, and walked towards the outside, "We should head back too, I can't get used to sleeping in a place like this."

The Pedro Family was attacked, and there was no need to wait until tomorrow; by tonight, everyone in Mexico City engaged in "gray area" businesses would hear of this.

That sound of explosion...

Those who didn't know might think some oil depot had exploded.

With the financier dead, the mission was of course automatically suspended; no one wants to do unpaid work, but the next two days would still be filled with a whirlwind of blood and violence.

Gangs and drug lords busied themselves dividing up their businesses and territories.

Victor was no longer important now.

When he returned to the prison, he saw two unfamiliar HuNovelFireees; two jail guards emerged from the guardhouse, both wearing worried expressions.

"Open the door," Casare, seated in the back, said as he pressed the window button.

"Boss Casare!"

The two jail guards' faces lit up with joy upon seeing him.

"What's wrong? You all had such gloomy expressions just now. Are the prisoners causing trouble again?"

"No, no, no, it's Warden Webster, he suspended Captain Harrison, and he also scattered many from the emergency squad among the jail guards in the blocks."

Upon hearing this, Casare looked at Victor, who was sitting in the passenger seat behind him.

The latter, legs crossed, right hand holding a cigarette, tapped it into the palm of his left hand, "Webster is still working this late; that's pretty dedicated. Drive in."

"Open up, open up!" Casare commanded, pointing at the gate.

The checkpoint jail guard hurriedly ran in to press the switch on the desk, eagerly watching as the car convoy entered, excitedly telling his colleague, "Now there's going to be a good show to watch."

The Humvee arrived at the office building. Getting out of the car, Victor whispered something into Casare's ear, causing his right eyebrow to twitch dramatically. He nodded heavily and walked alone toward the prison.

Victor, leading his men, rushed to the second floor and stood at the office door. He could hear the sounds of pleasure inside and smirked at his companions, "It seems Mr. Webster is quite enjoying life."

With that, he lifted his foot and kicked the door open.

Inside, scandalous acts were taking place!

Webster was clearly frightened by the sudden intrusion; he hurriedly pushed away the woman and scrambled up from the table, quickly grabbing clothes from a nearby chair to cover himself.

The woman was a female jail guard, someone Victor recognized. His eyes swept over her briefly before focusing back on Webster with a frown and a dark expression, "I thought you were just incompetent, but I didn't expect you to be so corrupt. Lift your head and look at the national emblem behind you, Webster, what are you doing!"

"You're fooling around with women in the prison."

Grinding his teeth, Victor charged forward. This scared Webster, who backed away a step, but then he stepped on the clothing that covered his lower body and fell to the floor, looking extremely awkward.

Victor took a deep breath, looked down at him, and said, "I'm sorry to interrupt you, but I'm back today."

He moved aside, nodding his chin toward the door, gesturing for Webster to leave. Webster made no sound; he didn't even dare to speak.

He didn't dare to question why he was still alive!

Wasn't the Pedro Family after him?

Shouldn't he be dead?

He dared not ask any of these questions; this man cast a shadow over him.

Webster didn't bother dressing; he ran out bare-bottomed. Suddenly, he heard Victor call out, "Hey, Mr. Webster."

His body stiffened, and he turned his head.

"Good night."

???

Webster didn't understand why he said that and took off running.

Victor walked over to the window, and soon after, he saw Webster running out of the office building, heading for his sedan.

Just as Webster was about to open the car door, a furious roar sounded, and a prisoner armed with a dagger rushed at him and stabbed him several times. Within moments, Webster was covered in blood and fell to the ground.

Webster's eyes grew heavy as he saw several jail guards rush forward to restrain him. He also saw, from the second-floor window, a figure smoking a cigarette, waving at him.

"Good night," Victor said in a gentle tone, despite the coldness in his eyes.

I couldn't stand that bastard.

On my turf, you dare mess with women!

"Take this inmate to solitary, which block is he from?" Casare, just entering through the door, stepped forward, "He's mine."

"So careless, dock half a month's salary."

Victor was all about fairness in his dealings.

"And another thing!"

"Where's the hygiene fee? Call up the prisoners who haven't paid yet. No money, and still sleeping? I want to see money on my desk tomorrow."

Casare stiffened all over.

"Don't worry, Boss Victor, I'll personally collect the debts!"

…