Working as a police officer in Mexico

A single shot brought down the cross from above; half of the church was destroyed, and the believers crouching on top fell straight down, vomiting blood on the ground.

F*ck...

Seeing this situation, some indecisive believers quickly raised a white flag.

God loves all mankind...

But the caliber of that cannon doesn't love me.

In less than half an hour, the shouting priest was dragged before the team-leading captain.

"Do you believe in Jesus now, or do you believe in Victor?" the captain asked, looking at him.

The priest was obviously beaten, his face covered in blood. Lifting his head and mustering strength from who knows where, he raised his hand, "Faith is not a crime!"

The captain nodded with approval, "I admire your humor. Take him away and burn him!"

"What?" The priest was startled. As the soldiers came over to drag him away, he finally panicked, "Wait! Wait!"

I'm just pretending!

You want to burn me alive?

What era is this? It's not the Middle Ages.

"I believe in Victor, I believe in Victor!!!" the priest cried out, rolling on the ground.

He didn't want to die.

The captain, seeing the liquid seeping through the priest's robes, looked disdainful and lost interest in toying with him.

He cocked his gun and aimed at the priest's head, ready to fire.

"Captain, we've found something!" Just then, a soldier ran over and said hesitantly, "We've discovered drugs in the church's basement."

The captain's trigger-pulling hand paused, "Drugs?!"

"Yes, a whole basement full, at least several hundred kilograms."

The captain's eyes lit up with the prospect of a major achievement. With several hundred kilograms in Mexico, you wouldn't need to reincarnate; you wouldn't even have a chance to attend kindergarten.

"Lead the way!"

The soldier guided the captain into the church, and in the basement, they indeed found mountains of drugs, all clearly labeled with their origins.

Colombia, Guatemala, and so on.

"Bring up that priest!" the captain yelled out.

When the priest was dragged over, his legs were still weak, and he mumbled, "I believe in Victor, I believe!"

"Victor doesn't need druggie believers."

"Where did all this come from?" the captain asked, pointing at the drugs.

Seeing his "private stash" found, the priest panicked and lowered his head in silence.

"Seems like God wants to do drugs too. If you don't talk, others will make you talk. Come on, move all the drugs and burn this church down!"

"This drug-infested church is truly disgusting to keep around."

Hearing the command, the soldiers set fire to the church which had stood for more than a hundred years.

For a hundred years, this church had been a den of filth, absolutely sickening, and it certainly wasn't the only one.

The captain watched the fierce flames, his eyes glaring fiercely.

Victor's soldiers... We're sworn enemies of drugs!

In the North, many believers were very unhappy, truly extremely, extremely unhappy!

But...

They dared not take to the streets.

The blood of the drug traffickers and rioters from the previous unrest had not yet dried on the ground, and the stench in the air had not yet dissipated.

We protest!

But, we don't necessarily have to go on the streets to protest, I curse Victor a couple of times in my mind.

The number of deaths in the past few days had been excessive; almost every family was in mourning, draped in white silk, but many people had also been released.

Casare realized something was wrong.

In just 2 days, over 30 churches in Northern Mexico had been burned, and a total of 1,127 churches were closed.

But likewise, more than 14 tons of drugs had been seized from these churches, along with 1,211 weapons, and… three ledger books.

They listed businesses such as human trafficking, abducting women, drug smuggling, and more!

This involved many countries and even the Vatican!

Even...

It included certain high-profile individuals' special predilections.

Casare had underestimated human nature, and he underestimated the sense of justice of his soldiers.

He quickly demanded that the lives of religious personnel not be harmed unless there was severe resistance

But still, more than 200 people were killed, shot on the spot by enraged soldiers!

Such hypocritical bastards!

All should be shot dead.

Untaxed and still breaking the law!

The general wouldn't tolerate a speck of evil under his watch.

If it hadn't been for Casare holding them back, all these priests would have been dead!

"Excessive violence is an uncontrollable beast!" Casare rubbed his temples, which were aching, and muttered to himself.

Being an Acting Governor, he was extremely cautious, but such a scandal had still erupted, giving him a severe headache.

"The Mexican religious community is protesting to us, demanding severe punishment for the murderers."

"Italy, the United States, Germany, Spain, and ten other countries have sent diplomatic notes!"

"The Zapatista National Liberation Army in Chiapas State has labeled us as a terrorist organization," said the secretary, listing the names.

"Enough, enough!" Casare gestured for her to stop.

The secretary placed a stack of protest letters on the table.

"I think it's best to inform the general about this…" she said softly.
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Someone who can shoulder responsibilities needs to step up!

After all, the general had a lot of messes on his hands, not afraid of one more, already being labeled a dictator.

Casare frowned, feeling that things were slipping out of his control, and picked up the phone to dial a number.

"Boss, I've made a mess."

...

"Boss, I've made a mess." Victor, in Vienna, was taken aback by Casare's first words, then chuckled and asked, "What happened?"

Casare explained the situation, feeling ashamed and ready to be scolded, but Victor just responded with an "Oh," and then said, "I see."

"Boss..."

"Your deeds in Europe are really well-known, you know, they curse you on TV every day," Victor said as he watched a high-ranking religious official wearing a "melon cap" cursing vehemently on TV...