Working as a police officer in Mexico-Chapter 633 - 375: Left Baga, Right Siba, In the Middle is a Big Wangba!
"That reporter is clearly a Little devil!"
Hearing Goebbels defame him like that, he got angry, "Japan is an independent country!"
"Well, why does your Emperor call MacArthur 'Dad'? I think his son is definitely a Yank's breed. Go back and ask how many times MacArthur has been with your Emperor's wife and whether he's spread any seeds or not."
Goebbels threw civility and politeness to the wind, but then again, Japan stood too close to the United States.
You may have heard, Uncle Sam's two dogs, Japan and South Korea, one barks on the left, the other barks on the right, and Victor hates these people the most.
Two Dogs is the most annoying of all!
"Bah!"
That reporter of Asian descent was an extreme royalist. When he heard Goebbels insult the Emperor, he didn't know how to respond because what he said might actually be true.
According to rumors...
MacArthur and Empress Xiang Chun really did have something going on. At the time, Hirohito was pushing it from behind—this is recorded in unofficial history.
What?
What unofficial history?
If you knew, would it still be 'wild'?
The Japanese reporter yelled and in a stride rushed onto the stage, his fury targeting Goebbels as he sought to show him what Shōwa Men's spirit was like!
Bam!!
A muffled sound followed, and then a sudden shadow was seen "flying."
The reporters sitting below shuddered, not daring to make a sound. They saw it clear as day when the Japanese reporter charged, the bodyguard standing next to Goebbels instantly kicked out.
Fail!
The Latin American author's expression momentarily darkened, but he immediately perked up, having thought of the headline for his next issue.
"Mexico's Minister of Propaganda assassinated? Assassin actually a Royalist?"
"Japan aims to meddle in Mexico, fails to assassinate Goebbels!"
All are the principle of sacrificing friends instead of poorer companions.
The Japanese reporter fell to the ground, curled up while security rushed forward, held him down, and dragged him out by his hair.
"Gentlemen!"
Goebbels's eyes were sinister, "In Tijuana, please show the proper respect."
"And if you don't..."
He paused, then said in a raised voice, "We'll educate you on behalf of your parents."
"Starting now, Japanese media are banned!"
Goebbels left with a dark expression.
But from then onwards, no one ever saw that Japanese reporter again.
You want death; the Mexicans will grant your wish as you wish.
As he left the press conference and returned to his office, the phone on his desk rang, the Governor's Mansion; the General wanted to see him.
He didn't even sit down, immediately jumping up, hastily calling his secretary and driver.
"Boss, should we call for more security?" asked the secretary.
"No need. Aren't two enough?" Goebbels waved his hand, "Tijuana is safe enough."
That was his confidence!
In Tijuana, if you wanted to buy a gun in the Black Market, someone would dare to sell it, but others would also dare to report it. One report, a reward of 100,000 Pesos, and you could even get 1% of the dealer's assets.
Many eyes were watching.
Tijuana now had over 11 million people; part of them were foreigners. If you wanted to "immigrate" from here, every leader had an official license, with the Governor's Mansion taking 60% of it!
They didn't ask where you came from, but if you messed up in Mexico, you'd lose your "immigrant" status, only able to follow local leaders from lesser areas at a higher price, not even guaranteed success.
The difference between legal and illegal.
Usually, for their American dream, these foreigners were very honest.
Two Mercedes-Benz left the Ministry of Propaganda, heading to the Governor's Mansion, bearing government license plates—normally no one would dare to mess with them.
Victor's authority permeated every sewer in Tijuana.
Goebbels sat in the back seat, holding a book.
"Honk, honk!" The driver honked frantically, looking agitated. He looked up to see three large trucks blocking the way.
"Is that a traffic light ahead?"
"Well, even with a traffic light, they can't stop like this. It's against the rules in downtown Tijuana; these guys' brains must be scrambled!" remarked the bodyguard.
Said without intent but heard with interest.
Goebbels's heart skipped, he abruptly looked back, his pupils constricted, and then he saw a heavy truck charging from afar!!!
"Get out! Get out!" He shouted loudly, pushing the door open forcefully and jumping towards the railing.
The driving bodyguard was shocked but reacted fast, unlatching his seatbelt and dashing down, failing to jump over the railing before a loud bang and a violent crash ensued as the heavy truck forcefully pushed the two Mercedes under the front truck.
Completely flattened!
Blood and human remains seeped out from the car...
The secretary and bodyguard in that car were gone instantly!
The huge noise startled nearby civilians, who panicked, ran aside, and watched the scene in horror.
Read lat𝙚st chapters at fɾeewebnoveℓ.co๓ Only.
The remaining bodyguard pulled out his gun and anxiously guarded Goebbels.
"Don't let him escape!"
The Minister of Propaganda pointed at the wobbly driver getting off the heavy pickup.
The bodyguard hesitated, shook his head, "Right now, my main task is to ensure your safety!"
But he wasn't needed; the area was bustling, and police were plenty. When the accident occurred, the police immediately arrived. Seeing Goebbels, the team leader was startled.
"Officer!"
"Secure those people!"
"Yes!"
The drivers of the four large trucks were all held down.
Goebbels's expression was dark.
