Chapter 2031 - 841: "He Gives Me No Reason, So I Must Give Him an Excuse!

January 28, 1998, Quito.

The scale of the anti-Mexican protest tripled compared to the previous day.

When the footage from Guayaquil reached the capital, it was already 2 PM.

The footage was shot with a Polaroid, shaky but with every detail sharp as a knife.

A group of men surrounded a burning tire.

Three people lay beside the tire— the man was burned and curled into a ball, his hands still in a defensive posture over his head. The woman lay two meters away face down, her clothes burned off, the skin on her back charred and cracked, exposing the layer of fat underneath, which sizzled with oil.

The child was thrown on top of the tire to burn. In the end, only half a torso and a small hand were left, the hand still in a gripping pose, fingers curled, nails burned off, exposing the stark white knuckles.

As the people burnt, at least 50 people stood around watching.

Some were laughing, some raised their 8848 phones to take pictures, and others threw things into the fire—like beer bottles. The bottles exploded, the flames shot up higher, and the crowd erupted in cheers.

The Mexican-run small supermarket was smashed two hours earlier. The glass shattered, shelves toppled over, flour and sugar spread across the floor mixed with blood. When the family was dragged out, the man knelt on the ground pleading, the woman clutched the child, huddled into a ball, the child too scared even to cry.

Someone poured gasoline on them.

The person pouring gasoline was a young man, in his early twenties, wearing an Ecuador National Team jersey, his face painted with the national flag.

After pouring gasoline, he stepped back two steps, took out a lighter, lit a piece of rag, and threw it over.

The video paused for a moment. When it lit up again, the three were already on fire.

The child burned the fastest. Too small, thin-skinned, with little fat, the flames caught with a lick, turning the whole person into a fireball, running two steps before collapsing on the ground, twitching, and then laying still.

The woman struggled to save the child, but after just two steps, someone beside her struck her down with a stick. She lay on the ground, reaching a hand toward the child, shouting something—what it was, couldn't be heard because the video either didn't record sound or it was drowned out by the cheering in the background.

The man burned the worst. He rolled on the ground, rolled over a dozen times, but the fire didn't extinguish, instead, it ignited a pile of nearby trash. When the trash caught fire, the crowd stepped back a bit, he seized the chance to stand up, his body aflame, staggering while running out, only to collapse at the entrance of a gas station after a dozen meters.

The gas station employees rushed out, carrying fire extinguishers, spraying him. The fire was extinguished but he was beyond saving—the entire face was burned off, nose and ears charred, eyelids burned away, eyeballs exposed to the air, like two boiled eggs, stark white, still turning.

"Kill the Mexicans!!!!"

"Make the Mexicans get out!!!"

The video ended there.

Mexico City, the Ministry of Foreign Affairs.

When the video reached the Information Monitoring Center of the Ministry of Foreign Affairs, it was 3:20 PM.

The young man on duty watched, stunned for a few seconds, then rushed to the bathroom to vomit.

Ten minutes later, the complete video and processed screenshots were delivered to the minister's desk.

Minister of Foreign Affairs, Joachim Ribbentrop.

He was silent for a long time, then dialed a phone number.

"Connect me to the Presidential Palace. Find Bramo."

Half an hour later, the Mexico Ministry of Foreign Affairs issued a statement.

The wording of the statement was very strong, personally drafted by Joachim Ribbentrop.

"The Mexican Government condemns in the strongest terms the barbaric acts of violence committed against Mexican citizens within Ecuador. Three Mexican citizens—a father, a mother, and a five-year-old child—were killed by thugs in broad daylight, their bodies burned, a scene that is horrifying.

This conduct is not only an insult to the Mexican people but also a trampling of the bottom line of human civilization.

The Mexican Government demands that the Ecuador Government immediately take action, capture and severely punish the perpetrators, and give an explanation to the victims' families, and the Mexican people.

Otherwise, the Mexican Government reserves the right to take all necessary measures."

After the statement was issued, Joachim Ribbentrop waited for an hour.

The reply from the Ecuador Foreign Ministry came.

The reply was courteous but empty. ℯℯ𝑙.

"The Ecuador Government regrets the unfortunate incident that occurred within our borders. The government has instructed the relevant departments to launch an investigation and will handle the personnel involved according to the law. Due to the event involving complex social emotions and various factors, the investigation may require some time. The Ecuador Government values its traditional friendly relations with Mexico and believes this incident will not affect the deep friendship between the peoples of the two countries."

"It requires some time."

Joachim Ribbentrop slammed the reply on the table.

"Their people were burned to death on the street, and they tell me it requires some time?"

He didn't wait any longer.

At 7 PM, the Presidential Palace.

Victor watched the video on the top floor of the "Feathered Serpent Temple."

He watched it three times.

The first time was fast-forwarded, to get an overview. The second time at normal speed, watching the details. The third time was slowed down, watching frame by frame.

He paused on the frame where the child was burning.

That child, about five years old, with a round face, wearing a t-shirt with cartoon patterns and printed with the green, white, and red tricolor of the Mexican flag. When the flames licked up from his feet, his mouth was open, eyes wide, staring at the camera—or at the people holding up their 8848 phones behind it.