He opened the window and glanced down; there were still many people walking below.
He looked back at his gentle wife, his adorable son, and his elderly parents, his eyes filled with reluctance. He... he shouldn't have accepted money out of greed!
Otherwise, he wouldn't be like this.
But in the world, one is often not in control of their fate!
His lips moved slightly, as if saying words of apology, then he closed his eyes and jumped down the window. Belia Newman's mind went blank; he felt the wind passing his ears. The next second, he heard screams, and then he plunged into endless darkness.
Inside the house, the son seemed to feel a connection, lifted his head, "Dad!"
The family looked over and saw Belia Newman jumping off the building, the wife screamed, reached out in panic, but couldn't grasp anything.
Belia's mother, overwhelmed, swooned, while the father ran to the window to look down. A circle of people had gathered, exclaiming in surprise. Some called for an ambulance, while others disgusted, vomited nearby.
The old man, failing to catch his breath, blacked out and fainted.
Shortly after his jump, about half an hour later, an Internal Affairs Bureau car arrived below his building, witnessing the flashing ambulance lights and the crowd gathered around.
The leader of the team immediately sensed something was wrong upon knowing it was Belia Newman who jumped.
With professional intuition, just two words came to him: silencing!
Someone influential was suppressing this matter.
Knowing he couldn't hide, he made a call that ended up on Internal Affairs Bureau Director George Smiley's desk, making his eyelids twitch.
"Director, are we still investigating?"
"Investigate! Why not? Victor is the sun of Mexico; what are those petty beings? Even if they are powerful, can they be more formidable than us? Investigate! Thoroughly!"
With George Smiley's orders, the front-line staff felt instilled with confidence.
But sometimes, internal retaliation is the harshest.
On the night of October 30th, within three hours of the news release, over 20 government officials jumped from buildings, seemingly to exert pressure.
And by October 31st, the number kept rising, even affecting some high-level figures.
Guadalajara State Police Chief jumped off a building!
Chihuahua State Safety Minister drowned at home!
Hidalgo State Governor's assistant was found with wrist cuts!
…
That day saw the deaths of 15 high-level state officials.
George Smiley was utterly shocked; this was beyond his control. He hurriedly rushed to the National Palace but noticed a dump truck charging at him while waiting at a red light!
The fear instantly gripped his mind, yet he swiftly hit the gas and found the dump truck seemed locked onto him GPS-style, chasing him and colliding with other vehicles in the road.
George Smiley narrowly escaped disaster.
It's utter chaos!
Sheer madness!
He didn't stop, drove straight to the National Palace, only to find the internal inspection was much stricter, and his vehicle underwent repeated checks before entering.
Under the guidance of Rohus Mishi, Deputy Director of the Special Service and bodyguard, he went upstairs to meet the Supreme Leader.
At this moment, Victor was dressed in military uniform, polishing a golden AK, a confiscated trophy, his eyelids lifted lightly, "George, it seems someone intends to overthrow me!"
George Smiley shivered all over.
"General…"
Unable to help himself, he called out the previous title, Supreme Leader was an affectionate term, while the General was the victorious ally in battle!
"So many people encountering 'accidents,' it's intimidation against me, urging me to cease the investigation, or else all will perish, leaving no one to manage the nation, hahaha! Well played, well played!"
Victor was evidently enraged; otherwise, he wouldn't laugh this way.
He stood up, picked up a piece of paper from the table and handed it over, "Unexpectedly, right under our noses, there's a group forming associations, deeply hidden within the government, a terrifying web of connections."
George Smiley received it with both hands, seeing densely written names, all familiar, branching like twigs to form a vast network, with several names prominently at the top.
Some names he knew too well!
Even known nationwide, seated at meetings next to Victor.
"How could it be them?"
"Keep an eye on them; I don't want any of them to receive any news and leave Mexico."
"Yes!" George Smiley straightened up and said, hesitated for a moment, "But regarding military officials involved…"
"I can raise them up, and I can ruin them; you needn't worry further."
George Smiley nodded, asked no more, saluted, and left, pausing at the door.
Contemplating whether to recount what happened before coming here, he hadn't spoken when Victor preemptively said, "Don't worry, I'll address your grievances; you are my man, and I hold grudges."
This warmed George Smiley's heart, and upon exiting, he softly closed the door.
His mind still lingered on the names seen, murmuring, "Why him?"
...
On the hillside behind the Mexico Palace, this area is known outside as the "Core Region!"
Residents here are dignitaries, not ordinary ones…
Within Villa No. 4.
The people here are extremely, extremely famous!!!
In the study, the light was dim, only a lamp glowing, as Cuauhtémoc cradled a tabby cat, gently stroking its back, the latter enjoying with closed eyes.
He quietly looked at a photograph, where he appeared handsome; taken with his child and newlywed wife at the Mexico Memorial Hall entrance, then… he was in his twenties, and now, nearly fifteen years have passed.
Now holding a high position, yet feeling empty, more importantly…
His leg was crippled!
He knows what others call him behind his back…
Crippled President, Puppet President…
He ignored them a couple of times, but as time went on, does he truly not care?
Why do Casare and Victor remain unscathed, while among the three, he is the only one troubled?
His heart bears resentment.
Creek…
The study door opened, and his wife Tatiana entered with supper, smilingly saying, "Don't stay up late; given your age, the doctor advised you to maintain your health, else I and the child will worry."
But Cuauhtémoc simply sat there, quietly gazing at the photograph, "You were so beautiful then."
"Am I not beautiful now?" Tatiana smiled and asked.
What was meant to be a simple question prompted Cuauhtémoc to solemnly turn and closely scrutinize her, making Tatiana feel somewhat embarrassed.
"You've become prettier, but sometimes I can't recognize you."
"What does that mean? I could become some old monster, no? Come on, don't say so much, drink this first. I learned it from Chinese chefs: old duck soup, they say it replenishes blood and aids recovery."
As she spoke, she poured a bowl and handed it over.
Cuauhtémoc looked down at the soup with floating oil, quietly watching it, then after almost a minute, he raised his head, "How much sleeping pills did you put in here? Let me guess, three tablets? Five? Or ten?"
Tatiana was slightly stunned, her gaze instantly flustered, yet she defended, forcing a laugh, "Hahaha, what nonsense; how could sleeping pills be in here? Could I murder my husband?"
"You don't want to murder me, but you want me asleep, then contact the 'members' you've developed under my name, isn't it?"
"You're involved in drug trafficking and smuggling, Tatiana!!"
...