Chapter 509: The Dust Settles, Great Harvest, Return to New York

Chapter 509 -330: The Dust Settles, Great Harvest, Return to New York

“A young patrol officer, Rafael Mendoza, has reported Carlos Hernandez, the deputy chief of the Monterrey City Police Department’s Criminal Investigation Division, to the authorities. After extensive observation and evidence collection, Mendoza accused Hernandez of providing long-term intelligence and protection for the Sinaloa Group.”

“Reports indicate that Carlos Hernandez voluntarily surrendered to federal authorities this morning. A USB drive discovered in Hernandez’s office drawer by the DEA, led by Officer Rafael Mendoza, contained internal evidence implicating dozens of corrupt officials throughout Monterrey City. The investigation is currently ongoing.”

“The Federal Attorney General’s Office stated this may be the largest anti-corruption operation in the state of Nuevo León in the last ten years—”

A few tables of Mexican patrons in the restaurant had already started whispering amongst themselves. Some even stood up and moved closer to the television.

Jin Heon turned to look at Li Wei, color suddenly flooding her face. She was instantly re-energized.

“Boss,” she asked, “does this mean… something happened to Kuluoqi?”

“That’s right,” Li Wei said. “The news just announced it. Kuluoqi is dead, and his organization has been wiped out.”

“Then…” Jin Heon said excitedly, “that means Fernando isn’t under his thumb anymore!”

“I’ll call him right now!”

She excitedly pulled out her phone, but Fernando had already beaten her to it. A number from Monterey was flashing furiously on the screen.

She answered.

“Miss Jin! Miss Jin! Are you still in Monterey?” Fernando’s voice came through the phone. “About the letter of intent—can we still talk?”

Jin Heon glanced at Li Wei and Don Quixote.

Don Quixote gave her a hand signal, and Jin Heon immediately understood.

“Of course,” she said, pausing for a moment. “But… Mr. Fernando, as for the price… is that still negotiable?” She watched Don Quixote mouth the words, repeating them verbatim, “We’ve… already… had quite a few others… get back in touch with us.”

“Absolutely, we can absolutely keep talking,” Fernando said. “The price is still negotiable. Where are you? I’ll come to you. I’m on my way now.”

After Jin Heon hung up, she clenched her fists and let out a quiet cheer.

“Now that Kuluoqi has fallen, there must be a lot of factories like Fernando’s that were under his control,” Don Quixote said. “They must be desperate right now. I think we can push for an even lower price.”

“We’re so lucky, Boss,” Jin Heon said excitedly. “We’ve only been here a few days, and everything’s completely turned around!”

“Yeah…” Li Wei finished the last of his fried egg and wiped his mouth. “Such good luck,” he repeated.

Over the next two days, Monterey’s underworld and upper world were both rocked by a massive earthquake.

Kuchilo’s downfall wasn’t just the death of a drug lord. It was as if a pillar supporting Monterey’s entire gray economy had suddenly snapped.

The web of connections he had spent thirty years building—stretching from the police department to customs, from city hall to the industrial parks—collapsed one by one like dominoes under a joint operation by the federal government and the DEA.

Over a hundred police officers who had taken Kuchilo’s money were suspended pending investigation. Dozens of municipal officials with ties to the Sinaloa Group were taken in for questioning.

Meanwhile, the businesses that had either been coerced or willingly served Kuchilo’s supply chain—from transport companies and chemical suppliers to packaging and bottling plants—were thrown into a panic overnight. Everyone was looking out for themselves.

The best way for these companies to prove their legitimacy was to land a major client with absolutely no ties to the drug trade.

Since that morning, Jin Heon’s phone had been ringing off the hook.

Companies that had previously avoided them like the plague were now frantically slashing their prices and promising better service.

By the afternoon, even a cold-chain logistics company she had never even contacted reached out, asking if LW Beverages had any need for cross-border shipping.

…

「That same afternoon. Monterey Public Hospital, third-floor inpatient ward.」

The hallway reeked of disinfectant mixed with cheap air freshener. One of the fluorescent lights flickered incessantly, emitting a low BUZZ.

Two armed federal soldiers stood guard outside a hospital room. Inside, a man covered from head to toe in plaster casts lay on the bed.

All four of his limbs were immobilized in a traction frame. A doctor in a white coat and a police officer holding a notebook stood beside him.

Terrified, he finished describing what he had seen and heard late that night at the abandoned gas station.

The officer, unable to hide a smirk, pulled a chair up to the bedside. He flipped open his notebook and repeated:

“So… let me get this straight. That night, an invulnerable, superhumanly strong, invisible… Batman, was it?” the officer said. “He took down all twenty-something of you by himself?”

The drug dealer nodded.

The officer lowered his notebook.

“Were you high at the time?” he asked.

The dealer froze for a second.

“We… we were,” he said. “We all were. We were waiting for the shipment that night, got bored…”

“And the guys at the estate?”

“They were all high,” the dealer said after a moment’s thought. “All of Kuchilo’s men are users.”

The officer nodded, then suddenly sat down right on the dealer’s bandaged arm.

The dealer immediately screamed in agony.

“AHHHH! IT HURTS!” Sweat beaded on his forehead from the pain. “Get up! Get up! Get up! You’re on my arm!”

“I know. I’m doing it on purpose,” the officer said, pausing. “But I’d suggest you get used to it, because—”

He glanced at the doctor, who gave him a slight nod.

“Because your limbs are never going to recover, and the federal government doesn’t have the money for your surgery,” he said with a smile. “On top of that, you’re going to be prosecuted for multiple felonies, your assets have been frozen, and you’re facing a sentence of at least four hundred years without parole.”