Working as a police officer in Mexico

New York's night, really beautiful.

Neon lights everywhere, and ladies swaying by the roadside.

With a gust of wind.

Whoops, a free peek.

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A pure black Mazda Eunos Cosmo is stopped at a red light, inside, Kashima Noriyasu, sitting in the back seat, is blindfolded, with underlings holding him from both sides.

"Where are you taking me! Son of a bitch..." Kashima Noriyasu struggles, "I'm an overseas member of Japan's Sumiyoshi-kai!"

Swearing in a mix of English and Japanese.

Mike Corleone frowns and looks up at the rearview mirror, the underling instantly senses the boss's displeasure.

The guy on the left delivers a hard elbow to Kashima Noriyasu's face!

Blood spurts out like that time of the month.

Still not satisfied, he leans on the other's legs, raises his fists, and pounds violently on Kashima Noriyasu.

The whole car starts to shake.

Beep beep beep~

Suddenly, a horn blares beside them, Mike Corleone turns his head and sees a convertible parked next to him, with two men and three women inside, pressing the horn vigorously and pointing fingers.

He rolls down the window, and the white driver weirdly yells, "Bro, you bouncing a car? Hahaha~ Is your junky car okay? Need some help?"

Speaking, he honks again.

Just then, the light turns green, and the convertible charges out, with the woman in the back showing off, still shouting.

"Boss, want to teach them a lesson?" the driver asks, turning his head.

Mike Corleone smiles, "Youngsters~"

The Mazda buzzes twice, like a man in his fifties slowly picking up speed, takes a turn, and in front of a nightclub they spot the car; the men are stepping out embracing their dates, and they see them, too.

Still pointing and gesticulating at the door.

"Is driving a Mazda that embarrassing?" Mike Corleone turns and asks.

The driver chuckles awkwardly, "Prone to traffic jams."

Mike Corleone gestures to his underling in the back, "MP5!"

The underling quickly passes it to him from the back seat.

He racks the gun, rolls down the window, and sprays a burst straight at the pricey convertible.

Ratatat~

Pfft!

The red door is blasted apart, falling to the ground.

Mike Corleone, still not satisfied, pulls out a hand grenade, accurately tossing it into the driver's seat.

"OMG!!"

Boom!

The convertible is instantly reduced to scrap metal.

Mike Corleone sinks back into his seat, "Sweet!"

It's unclear whether Mazdas are the best, but those who drive them certainly are.

Because he believes in Jesus, he allows one provocation, but the second time, he believes in Victor, and that's a different story.

Victor's Classic Story No. 7: There was a man named Confucius, he had 3000 underlings; he liked to make people listen to him, but if they didn't, he'd beat them up, leaving behind the ultimate saying: My way is the way!

Victor also said: Step back, and you'll just get madder, pick up a tool and do the damn thing!

Mike Corleone even sticks out his hand to flip the bird.

"My car! It's a rental!!!" The white man kneels on the ground, clutching his head, wailing in tears, he tries to rush over but is held back by his companions.

This one's hit by a Hand Grenade, does insurance cover it?

They must think he's an idiot.

Mike Corleone cranks up the sound system, playing an energetic song, then floors it, and the Mazda darts away.

It's probably a little after 8 p.m.

When the car returns to the villa, an underling hurries up to open the car door, "Boss, Mr. Casare is here."

Mike Corleone immediately wipes the smile off his face, his eyebrows lift, and he rushes inside, only to see several people sitting in the living room, men and women, kids included, obviously his family members.

"Sir, reporting from News Division No. 99787!"

Casare waves his hand and looks at Kashima Noriyasu, dragged in from outside, smiling and says, "I'm so sorry that my personal matters have taken up your time."

"It's an honor! sir!" Mike Corleone hurriedly says.

If Victor ever kicks the bucket, Casare, as the second-in-command, would be the one to take over, both now and in the future, he holds high authority.

As long as the Northern Governorship of Mexico doesn't fall.

Casare's face quivers, he turns to glance at his siblings, his voice soothing, "Feliciana, can you guys go to bed?"

"Of course!" The little girl sensibly drags her brother away.

"Bro, I want to stay here," says the younger brother Felix, his eyes filled with nervousness and unease as he looks at Casare, "I'm 18 now, I can contribute to the family!"

Fat Casare gazes deeply at his little brother, then smiles contentedly and nods, perhaps moved, pats his head, "You've grown up, then stay, the rest of you go up."

The youngest brother and sister Feliciana nod in agreement.

Mike Corleone even considerately sends someone up to tell them a bedtime story.

"Boss, I can't tell stories, I only know how to cut people," the underling says with a troubled expression.

"Damn it, can't even tell a story, get the nanny to do it," Mike scowls and swears under his breath.

So uncultured!

And Casare squints his eyes as he approaches Kashima Noriyasu.

"No, no..." the mother beside him grips his arm, crying.

"Camila! Is that you?!" Kashima Noriyasu, with his blindfold removed, hears the familiar voice, calls out, but his speech is slurred from his swollen mouth.

Camila Sodi rushes over, and Casare doesn't stop her, just watches as she rips off the man's blindfold.

The man opens a pair of alluring eyes.