Mexico can't be defined in one word.

Except "burrito."

Then there's drugs and gunfights.

Even God has to wear a bulletproof vest when he comes to Mexico.

In the desert, 80 kilometers from Mexico City, stands a maximum security prison.

El Altiplano! (Plateau!)

This place is a concentration of Mexican gangsters and narco baron's. On average, there are 5 narco baron's, 3 gang leaders and 2 serial killers for every 10 inmates here.

Each of the 5,000 inmates is the "best of the best" in the criminal world, the "elite" of the drug business.

Any one of them is enough to threaten national security.

Sewing behind a sewing machine?

Don't make me laugh.

These narco baron's can pay for people on the outside to come work for them. Sometimes for fun, they even pay guards to become their subordinates.

Of course, since the Camarena case in 1985, such liberties have been greatly curtailed.

America has gotten very angry.

These animals must be caged to keep them from breaking free.

Mexico does not have the death penalty... So the permissiveness of the narco baron's has only slightly diminished.

After all, Franklin's face may be ugly, but dollars still smell sweet.

Block two. Restroom.

A young man of sturdy build, wearing a black prison guard uniform, with short black hair and deep brown eyes was looking in the mirror.

Gao Jun's eyes still reflected some disbelief.

It had been two weeks since he had been here, and he still couldn't get used to it.

He used to be a boxer who specialized in Southeast Asia's no-holds-barred fights. During one of the "fights of the century" he refused to participate in a contract fight and was killed.

His full name is now Victor Carlos Vieri, a Mexican prison guard. Because of his injury, he was placed on "administrative leave" for two weeks and just returned to duty today.

And that's not the worst of it.

The most absurd thing is that he has discovered that his eyes can see a person's entire criminal life!

If he arrests or kills a criminal, he can earn the appropriate points and gain skills, weapons, or even assistants through a virtual panel.

But it's all linked to position - the higher up you go, the more opportunities open up!

It's nothing short of forcing him to be a shining savior in a place like Mexico, is it?

Thankfully, there were no forced assignments or requirements - you can play, you can not play. If you don't want to, then go to hell.

- Goddamn it, what a load of crap! - He took a deep breath, turned on the faucet, and splashed water in his face.

The memories that had been added to his head were still giving him a slight headache.

- Hey! Victor, the warden wants to see you.

The bathroom door opened and a fat man with a baby face and a white uniform with the epaulettes of a junior sergeant walked in. Seeing the water on Victor's face, he was silent for a second.

- Are you going to drown yourself in the sink? I'm sorry, but your head won't fit in there.

Victor wiped his face with his uniform and, leaving the bathroom, said, "When I die, I'll be sure to take you with me, Casares. I'm afraid you'll be too lonely here.

- No, no, no. I want to live to be a hundred years old like my great-grandfather, and then I'll get 200 thousand dollars from the insurance company and go to America!

A hundred years? Your bones will be scattered by then.

Victor glanced at him and mentally wished him luck.

Casares, seeing that Victor didn't answer, looked back and said quietly, "Hey, buddy, after you shot Hoyle, the Gulf Cartel people are holding a grudge against you. One of their ringleaders already said you'd die in prison.

Victor remembered.

Two weeks ago, a couple of days after he'd arrived here, the warden had decided to have a soccer match for some reason.

And between people from Tijuana and Juarez... Damn crazy man.

Although both of these groups had once belonged to the Guadalajara Cartel, after the arrest of their boss, the organizations broke up and began fighting over territory.

The soccer match quickly turned into a brawl.

It's no problem for drug dealers to carry a couple guns, right? It quickly turned into a riot and no one knew where the guns came from.

More and more factions joined the mess, and the prison called in the guards to quell the riot.

But at this time Victor, who was hiding out, "accidentally" ran into Hoyle of the Gulf Cartel. The latter smiled evilly and pounced on him.

They fought, and in a moment of respite Victor managed to shoot him.

For this, he received 1,000 points.

Hoyle was more than just a petty thug, and one phrase of his still haunts Victor to this day.

"Finally found you!"

Why was he looking for him?

They never crossed paths in the past.

There's something fishy going on here.

The riot was quickly put down, but Victor was wounded and given a paid vacation for two weeks.

However, the leader of the Gulf Cartel was killed, so Victor was careful not to stay home and hid in hotels, but was still found.

An assassination attempt was made on him, he took several bullets, but survived.

The shooter wasn't exactly a marksman. Otherwise, he would have been reborn by now.

In the corridors of the prison, it was rare to see sharp corners or people walking in the fresh air, because after the riot that killed 17 people, all the prisoners were locked in their units.

The warden, however, had enough influence to hold his place and not be removed.

As they approached the office door, a white man with sergeant's epaulettes stepped out from inside. When he saw Victor, he tensed for a moment, but quickly changed his expression to a smile.

- Oh, Victor, it's good to see you! How are you? Feeling better?

Victor instinctively distrusted his smile. He knew from memory that the man's name was Haggis Baird and he was the son of a criminal.

The Haggis family is a criminal clan from Chihuahua, and Baird is one of their members.

In Mexico's system of background checks, police often fail to find connections to crime, and many criminal organizations infiltrate their members into government structures for their protection.

For money, many people hold high positions.

For example, when cartel leader Juarez Acosta was assassinated in 1987, his place was taken by Aguilar, who was the head of Mexico's Federal Security Agency, followed by "King of the Sky" Amado.

The reason for their feud was that Victor's father had arrested Baird's father, who later died in a prison fight.

It was an old family feud.

Victor blinked his right eye as if it were a light switch and scanned Baird's information.

[Haggis Baird. Male. Born in 1958 to the Haggis crime family in Chihuahua. Enrolled in the police academy in 1973.]

...

[Crime Scores: 300.]

As expected!

The death of his former self was linked to this guy!

His background...

Jesus would be a vegetarian if he saw this.

This guy entered the police academy at 25, graduated in Mexico City 3 years later, that is, at 28, and now at 31 he is already a sergeant.

He seems to have helped a lot of people, that's why he was promoted so quickly.

Victor, on the other hand, took 8 years to become a sergeant!

- I hope you enjoy your job. Take care of yourself. - Haggis Baird patted him on the shoulder, and there was something ominous in his voice.

This guy still wants to kill him!

Victor sensed an underlying threat beneath that smile.

- Dude, this guy wants to fuck you. - Casares was concerned. - Be careful, he's very dangerous.

Seeing the concerned face of the little fat man, Victor nodded and turned to Baird's back, squinting his eyes.

He wasn't a weakling, and fighters without rules were those who weren't afraid of dirty tricks.

We have to find a way to kill him first!

- I'll be careful.

Casares nodded, looked at his watch, and said, "Let's have lunch together at noon. I'm going on duty, so I have to go.

Having said that, he hurried to the armory.

Victor corrected his uniform, knocked on the door, and a rough male voice came from inside:

- Come in.

He opened the door and saw that inside sat a forty-year-old man with a square face and a soft look, who seemed like a "good boss."

- Good morning, sir! - Victor, just as he remembered from his memories, greeted his superior and saluted.

- Victor, how's your health? Come sit down. - Webster Ashbourne asked with concern in his voice and pointed to the chair in front of him.

- Fully recovered, sir.

Webster heaved a sigh of relief: - That's good. If anything had happened to you, I wouldn't have forgiven it to myself.

Victor's father and Webster had been coworkers.

But Victor's father died in one of the gunfights with the bandits, taking seven bullets in the back!

Webster, as a caring senior, inquired about his health, then said, "The work in block two is too strenuous. I want to transfer you to Unit One. When the block chief moves on to another position, you can take his place. How do you see it?

Just like that?

First block was relatively "light" - only those who occasionally killed people, dismembered bodies and cooked meat. Those who went to that prison had a minimum sentence of 25 years.

Victor was a realist. He realized that such gifts are never selfless. Sky wouldn't drop a pie, more like a grenade.

He and Webster had no family ties, so why was he being so kind?

Everyone should be treated with distrust because human nature is worthless. A good-natured smile could hide pure evil behind a good-natured smile.

Victor blinked his right eye.

Information about Webster instantly appeared in front of him.

[Webster Ashbourne, Male. Born in 1944 in Monterey.

Enrolled in the U.S. Coast Guard Academy at 16, expelled at 18 for a fight in which a black guy was killed.

In 1975, he returned and joined the local police force, joined the Monterey Narcotics Unit in 1978, the same year he joined the Gulf Cartel.

In 1981 he became a senior deputy in the Chihuahua Police Department, in 1984 he was promoted to deputy chief of police and became the warden of El Altiplano!"].

...

[Recent Events: agreed to help Haggis Baird rise to the rank of Staff Sergeant by eliminating Victor, transferring him to the first unit, and having a former Gulf Cartel member nicknamed "Press" Jerry kill him while walking.]

[Crime Points: 21,000!].

Victor felt a deep anger looking at those red numbers.