Working as a police officer in Mexico-Chapter 1690 - 765: Boss Wei’s Head Is Also Aching! (Part 4)

Chapter 1690 -765: Boss Wei’s Head Is Also Aching! (Part 4)

“The Asia-Pacific market wasn’t spared either. The Nikkei 225 index fell by 3.8%, with export-oriented companies hit by exchange rate fluctuations, and the Hang Seng index dropped by 5.1%, hitting a new low for the year. However, there were clear signs of capital outflows from the energy and non-ferrous metals sectors. Notably, there is an indication of international funds shifting towards some emerging markets in Southeast Asia and bulk commodity futures, with gold prices breaking through the $420 per ounce mark, and crude oil prices remaining high due to geopolitical risk premiums…”

Hmm… the situation is unstable, invest in gold first!

“They are all liars!” Harvey suddenly roared, his voice exploding in the small dining room.

The two children shivered, and Sofia’s tears welled up in her eyes instantly.

“Harvey!” Isabel exclaimed.

“Liars! Liars! They’re all fucking liars!”

Harvey’s face turned crimson, veins bulging on his neck. He sprang up from his chair, the chair legs scraping sharply against the floor. His eyes were fixed on the face calmly analyzing on the TV screen, those gold-rimmed glasses, that perfectly coiffed hair.

“California creates jobs? I am fucking unemployed! Affordable stores? Isabel gets up at five every morning to queue for three hours just to buy limited cornmeal and eggs! The cost of transformation? The cost is that my son’s school canceled extracurricular activities because I can’t afford the additional fees! The cost is that my mother’s blood pressure medication doubled in price!”

His chest heaved violently, like a fish out of water.

“War! War! All they know is war! Fighting on other people’s land! So many people died, and what did we get? More sanctions! Higher prices! More desperate days! Why don’t they understand? War will only drag us down! Drag everyone down!”

“Harvey, please, stop, the children are here…” Isabel’s voice was tearful, reaching out to grab her husband’s arm.

But Harvey shook off her hand abruptly.

His gaze landed on the heavy glass ashtray on the coffee table, a commemorative item from the company for his excellent performance a few years back, engraved with the words “Outstanding Contribution.”

Without much hesitation, he grabbed the ashtray.

“Dad!” Diego screamed.

Harvey used all his might to hurl the ashtray at the TV!

“Crash——!!!”

A loud noise.

The center of the TV screen cracked into a massive spiderweb, quickly spreading outwards.

The screen blacked out momentarily, but eerily, the TV speakers seemed not entirely broken, the voice of the financial analyst still sputtering through with electrical interference:

“…Maintain…cautious optimism… long-term structural opportunities… period of adjustment… must unite… support the leader’s… vision…”

Behind the shattered screen, the voice continued distorted, like whispers from a ghost in another world.

The ashtray fell to the floor, rolled a few times, and stopped in the corner. The words “Outstanding Contribution” faced up, covered in dust.

The dining room was deathly silent.

Diego and Sofia clung to each other tightly, too scared to make a sound. Isabel covered her mouth, tears silently streaming down.

Harvey stood there, staring at the broken TV, at the flickering, distorted images inside, and the continuous voice about “opportunities” and “periods of adjustment.” It was as if all the strength in his body had been drained.

The fury that had just peaked like a high tide receded with a crash, leaving behind boundless fatigue and despair.

He slowly bowed his head, shoulders slumping.

“I’m tired.” He said, his voice so soft it was almost inaudible.

He didn’t look at his wife or his children, turned around, and walked towards the bedroom with unsteady steps.

Isabel opened her mouth, wanting to stop him, to say something, but in the end, only a repressed sob came out. She watched her husband’s figure disappear into the bedroom doorway, the door not fully closed.

After a few seconds, she wiped away her tears, took a deep breath, and forced a smile uglier than crying at her children, patting their heads, “It’s okay… Dad is just… just too tired. Let’s continue eating, okay? Finish your meal.”

She started picking up the beans and the overturned cup from Harvey’s side of the table. Her hands were trembling.

Diego and Sofia kept their heads down, eating the now cold food in small bites, not daring to make a sound.

About 5 minutes later.

A sharp, distorted female scream suddenly came from downstairs!

Followed by chaotic shouting, the dull thud of something heavy hitting the ground, though not loud through several floors, the texture was heart-wrenching, and then more gasps, running, and loud exclamations.

Isabel’s hand, wiping the table, suddenly froze.

A cold premonition shot up her spine, gripping her throat.

The cloth in her hand dropped to the floor.

“Harvey?” she called softly, her voice dry.

No answer.

The bedroom is silent.

Too quiet.

Isabel’s face turned deathly pale in an instant.

She spun around, almost staggeringly rushing to the bedroom.

Diego and Sofia looked at their mother in confusion.

The bedroom door was ajar. Isabel pushed it open with trembling hands.

The room was empty.

The window wide open.

The cool evening breeze was rushing in from the open window, rustling the thin curtains.

Outside the window, downstairs, voices clamored, the chaotic sound waves faintly audible.

Isabel ran to the window like a madwoman, screaming, tears burst forth, and she rushed out of the room in a hurry, leaving the children behind, running downstairs.

The children cried and chased after her.

Isabel burst out of the stairway to find many people gathered around, her husband lying in a pool of blood. She screamed, pushing through the crowd, holding her husband, tears streaming, “Please, call an ambulance, call an ambulance!!”

Many people hurriedly took out their phones to call.

Isabel, holding her husband’s head, was trembling all over. She saw his left hand clutched tightly, revealing the edge of a paper. She trembled as she struggled to pry open his hand.

It was a piece of paper, and on it was written a sentence:

“Victor is a son of a bitch! Those politicians are sons of bitches too! They are always ambitious, never caring about our feelings!”

“War? Fuck the war!”

The words conveyed disappointment with the Mexican authorities…

And resentment towards Victor for starting the war…

Drug control…

Why take it to someone else’s land?!!!

…