Working as a police officer in Mexico

"Bomb! There's a bomb on him!!!"

At the moment of heightened tension for Manstein and the rest, a piercing scream erupted.

A woman holding a child pointed at a nearby Tamil policeman, retreating in terror. She stumbled and fell to the ground, tossing the child to the side. But in the next moment, she snatched the child by the collar and bolted in a flash.

Her movements were so practiced it stung to watch.

The Tamil policeman cursed, tugged at his shirt, revealing a bomb with a flashing red light beneath. He started yelling something in Sinhala at the top of his lungs, incomprehensible to most.

But it clearly came with an ungodly amount of profanity.

"Target him, take the shot!"

The Fourth Battalion soldiers were hardened veterans, unphased by anything. They had their security formations layered thick, inside and out. When they saw the Tamil policeman charging toward them, the soldiers in the inner ring, stationed atop the Humvees, opened fire with heavy machine guns.

Ratatat, ratatatatat...

Firing a 12.7×99mm in short bursts? That's like Lu Ban messing around with a woman—Angela's screaming like hell.

The shots tore him to shreds, flesh flying everywhere.

With his dying breath, the man still managed to pull the pin on the bomb. A loud boom followed…

But by then, the bystanders had long fled the scene. There were barely any casualties; the bomb itself wasn't very powerful anyway.

"Son of a bitch, interrupting my damn speech and thinking he could die just like that? You, take two guys, gather up his corpse, and feed it to the dogs." Manstein was clearly not the forgiving type.

Just like on TV, where cops always show up after the explosion, the Sri Lankan military arrived fashionably late—seven or eight minutes later. They immediately dispersed the lingering gawkers. Leading them was an officer, a Colonel.

Colonal rank—pretty high for a place like this; you wouldn't expect to find generals wandering small towns.

Even Gaddafi was just a colonel for a while.

"Colonel Manstein…" The Sri Lankan officer forced a sheepish smile. "We deeply apologize for what happened, but I promise you'll get an explanation for this."

"No problem," Manstein replied with a faint smile. "After taking down Velupillai Prabakaran, a hopeful future is within reach. As for the problematic elements within your ranks, find them step by step. If needed, we're more than happy to lend a hand."

Manstein had already received a call from Victor before arriving.

The General's orders were clear—help Sri Lanka crush the Tiger Organization, but at the same time, build diplomatic ties. Secure a port for a military base near the Golden Triangle, just 1,800 kilometers away. This would be a strategic gem for future anti-narcotics operations.

Which is why everyone was on their best behavior.

Otherwise…

There'd have been a stream of curses by now.

What kind of crap is this?

The Sri Lankan Colonel wiped the sweat off his forehead. Seeing how reasonable Manstein was, he felt a sense of relief and moved on to the main issue. "Your forces took down Velupillai Prabakaran. May I see him?"

"Of course."

Manstein led him to the back of a flatbed truck.

Velupillai lay there, eyes open, defiant even in death—a true desperado.

The Sri Lankan Colonel swallowed hard, instinctively stepping back in fear. Realizing that this hesitation might look bad, he turned to glance at Manstein, his expression a bit awkward.

"Don't worry," Manstein said. "Dead men can't do anything. Even if he gets up somehow, my brothers have rocket launchers, and if that's not enough, artillery. Ghost or not, we'll send him to the afterlife."

The Colonel nodded quickly.

Looking somewhat pleased, he said, "Thank you so much for helping Sri Lanka eliminate the terrorist organization. May we take custody of the body?"

"That might be a problem. However, you can use the body for a press conference. But we're taking the head to Mexico. As for his family, we intend to publicly execute them all in Mexico for orchestrating terror attacks there. This has greatly angered the General; I hope you understand."

Wipe out his whole family?!

Are Mexicans really that ruthless?

The words were casually uttered, but the murderous intent in the tone was bone-chilling. Who wouldn't feel a tightening of the chest upon hearing this?

The Sri Lankan Colonel hesitated. This was, after all, a political achievement. But a glance at Manstein's eyes—sharp as daggers—forced him to avoid eye contact, smiling as he nodded in agreement.

Mostly because the Fourth Battalion was terrifyingly competent...

In about a week, they had taken down Velupillai, who had plagued Sri Lanka for decades. Who wouldn't submit at that point?

The Colonel consoled himself with a thought.

This isn't me groveling; this is for the friendship between Sri Lanka and Mexico!

"And your next move…?"

"We'll be hunting down the remnants of the Tiger Organization. We've got a good idea of their location; there are about 400 of them left. Once we've wiped them out, we're heading home. We'll make sure to leave you with a secure and peaceful environment for development," Manstein declared resolutely.

The Sri Lankan officer straightened in spirit. "Our army, navy, and air force will fully support you!"

Who doesn't hope for peace?

Who doesn't want peace?

Who could bear to lose peace?

After all, it had only been fewer than forty years since World War II ended.

Sri Lanka officially announced Velupillai Prabakaran's death immediately. His death photo circled the nation through state broadcasts.

Everywhere but the Jaffna Peninsula—where the Tiger Organization was rooted—people lit fireworks, cheering in celebration.

This organization, initially founded to topple tyranny and pursue justice, had long turned into a nightmare. In a decade, their bombings had killed no fewer than 1,500.

What ordinary citizen could like something like that?

And three days later, in mid-October—

Mexico's national TV broadcast a live trial!

It was outdoors…

A banner overhead read: "The First Public Tribunal!"