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More than ten people had already claimed the reward.

The bodies of the drug traffickers were hung up on the main streets, with signs in Spanish reading: "¡¡matar al narcotraficante es inocente!" (Killing a drug trafficker is not a crime!)

Even the TV stations were broadcasting Victor\'s speech on loop all day long, vigorously provoking the public\'s thoughts.

Under these circumstances, the drug traffickers\' retaliation became increasingly brutal.

Dawn.

When people were still in their dreams.

Dozens of vehicles stormed into Morelos District, and from them jumped hundreds of drug traffickers, who burst into the splotchy old residential complexes, kicking down doors and threatening the occupants with weapons to come out.

They gathered everyone in the open space.

Some were shivering in the cold, clad only in their underwear.

Valentina clutched Santos tightly, standing nervously among the crowd, constantly comforting him with the words, "Don\'t be afraid, don\'t be afraid."

Drizzle began to fall from the sky.

Pop pop pop—

The spurt of gunfire made the crowd let out involuntary cries of alarm.

"Good, it seems you still know what fear is, but! Some have forgotten, and we are very happy to remind you. That cop won\'t be able to stay on Guadalupe Island for long, but we are here forever!" a drug trafficking leader yelled, brandishing his weapon.

"Betrayal comes with a price!"

"Ah ah ah! Help, mercy, mercy... I won\'t dare again."

Suddenly, cries and whimpers came from above, and everyone looked up to see two traffickers on the rooftop, holding down a man who clung to a metal rod, pleading desperately.

His family stood to one side, trembling.

"Kritens." Santos recognized his friend, whose freckled face was streaked with tears.

The trafficker, perhaps irritated, dragged him to his feet and then threw him off the rooftop, his screams piercing the air as he fell.

Thump...

Have you ever seen a watermelon smash open?

Valentina covered Santos\' eyes, but he pried them open, staring fixedly at the body.

The drug leader, clearly satisfied with the people\'s frightened and timorous looks, announced, "Do you know why this is happening? This is retribution, a warning from the gentlemen of Reclusos e confinamiento (isolated inmates)!"

With that, he made a gesture.

The others on the rooftop were thrown down by the traffickers.

"No no no! I don\'t want to die!"

"Sir, let us go! Please!"

Santos\' arm was tightly gripped by his mother who, with only two people\'s strength, said, "Anger won\'t change the fact that you are powerless, Santos, you must learn to endure!"

He could only watch helplessly as his friend was thrown down and smashed into a pulp.

The traffickers left, but before they did, they rolled down their car window and shouted, "Whoever handles their corpses, I\'ll kill next."

Even after the cars had driven away, it felt as if there was still a stone weighing on everyone\'s head, every face stricken.

"In the future, we better stay away from those cops..." mumbled an older man with a full beard as he stepped forward.

He clearly had some standing in the neighborhood.

Many people nodded in agreement, while others grumbled, "Those damn cops never bring any good. Kill drug traffickers? As if you could finish them off? It\'s just like sitting in the office, then dropping your pants and farting into the microphone, not a single word is trustworthy."

"Were things really that bad here without the police station and the government?"

"I think so too, we could get by without police, but when they show up, we can\'t even manage," one of the adults said, and others chimed in one after another.

"Not at all!"

Santos broke away from Valentina\'s grasp and stood out to shout, "Drugs are a menace to society, Mr. Victor and his group represent justice!"

"What\'s the use of justice? We just want to live, Santos. Where\'s that cop now? Where is he?"

"Right, don\'t speak for them, be careful or the drug traffickers will kill you."

"If the Mexican Government doesn\'t care about drugs, what can a single cop do..."

As Santos listened to their words, he shouted hoarsely, "You cowards!"

"Then why didn\'t you stand up just now? Are you afraid of dying??" someone retorted. "You\'re just like us, you\'re useless beyond shouting."

A few kids older than him kept hounding him.

People, they hate being contradicted the most, even when they know they\'re wrong.

Santos pushed through the crowd, "No, Mr. Victor can\'t be wrong!"

With that, he ran off, with Valentina calling after him, but she couldn\'t catch up at all.

The rain kept pouring down, and the ground was quickly filled with mud.

Santos fell and then got up again, running straight to the police station. The officer standing outside the cordon wanted to greet him, but could only see his back.

He ran to the hall in one breath.

"Hey, Santos, what happened to you?" a familiar officer joked.

"Where\'s Mr. Victor?"

"Isn\'t this our reserve officer? How did you forget to bring an umbrella?" Victor joked as he walked down from upstairs, Santos threw himself at him, his face smeared with what could be snot or tears.

"Kritens died, he was my best friend. His entire family was thrown down from the building by the drug traffickers. They also warned us not to help the police, or they\'d kill us. Many people are scared..."

Santos cried and recounted the situation.

Victor squatted down and wiped away his tears, "Maybe in the pursuit of truth, we all find that we have to accept some injustices, endure suffering we shouldn\'t have to, experience unreasonable setbacks, but, we must grit our teeth, and keep fighting! Fighting!"

"Officer Santos, today I\'ll teach you the first lesson." .net

Victor stood up, the other officers holding their breath in anticipation, "When we have absolute firepower, don\'t hide the rage in your chest, what we should do is to take the safety off and kill them!"

"Forgiveness is God\'s affair, our job is to send them to meet God!"

"Casare, bring our new toy, Kennedy, take 60 heavily armed men, we\'re going to blow those dogs to hell!"

Santos lifted his head.

Victor wiped his face with his hand and turned towards the door.

"Gentlemen, let\'s show them what happens when they cross me, Victor!"

Santos ran out after him, and he saw officers wearing hoods lifting the plastic tarp from the pickup trucks parked on the side.

"What\'s that?"

"Type 64 120mm mortars, equipped with high-explosive bombs, the Director intends to flatten the entire drug trafficking group," a policeman beside him sighed.

Even though Santos didn\'t understand what the model meant, he could understand the numbers.

120mm?

Does the larger number mean it\'s more powerful?

The concept of caliber started to form in his young mind.

...