Victor was truly "wronged". Whom had he offended!
Wasn't it just about anti-drug enforcement?
Why did so many people want him dead?
He felt alone in his righteousness, like a swordsman surrounded by enemies, with no allies in sight.
However, obviously, troubles wouldn't come one by one; instead, they swarmed in masses.
The phone calls from Tijuana's Casare followed one after another, and when he heard the boss's voice, he heaved a sigh of relief.
"Thank God, boss, I'm glad you're all right."
Victor could hear the tremble in his voice; he was also frightened. He raised an eyebrow—this news had spread quickly.
It was like the Yanks' zipper scandals, always feeling like someone was fanning the flames behind the scenes.
The world is a stage filled with strange attitudes toward fame and fortune, and so is life. When you succeed, people congratulate you to your face.
But in a blink, they'll trip you up.
