Starting from South America, speeding through the world

Chapter 57 Valentina
The sky was so dark and heavy that no sunlight could get in.

The air was humid and stuffy, filled with the heavy smell of gunpowder and the stench of rotting odors seeping from the sewers.

The whole street felt like it was being soaked in a pot of rancid soup—nauseating, suffocating, and with nowhere to escape.

Valentina leaned against the counter, gritting her teeth as she disinfected the wound on her shoulder.

The alcohol-soaked cotton ball touched the cracked skin, and the burning pain made her gasp.

"Fuck him, fuck him!"

Valentina cursed under her breath, ripped off the gauze, and haphazardly wrapped it around the wound.

These injuries were sustained at the police station, all thanks to my soft heart.

A few days ago, Gina barged into the store with an Asian man, covered in blood.

She shouldn't have meddled, but years of friendship made it impossible for her to pretend she didn't see it.

So she led them into a private room at the back and used the boss's tools to treat the man's wounds.

Trouble ensued.

In less than ten minutes, a group of armed men found the place, carrying guns, and nearly turned the whole store into a sieve.

They escaped, but she wasn't so lucky.

The military police dragged her out of the back alley and threw her into an interrogation room.

Then, she didn't know how long she was imprisoned, only that those people took turns punching and kicking her, using everything from waterboarding to electric shocks, to force her to reveal the whereabouts of that Asian man.

This is fucking unbelievable.

She really wanted to say something, but she knew absolutely nothing.

If it weren't for the large sum of money that Kenichi Kawada spent after the incident, and his connections with the state government to get her out, she would probably be dead long ago.

Valentina sighed deeply and looked out the window through the cracks in the wooden planks.

The streets were deserted, even though it should have been the busiest time of day at noon.

A few gunshots occasionally rang out in the distance.

The military and police are conducting the final clearing operation.

Since the gang riots in the North District began three days ago, this area has become a war zone.

The police suddenly withdrew all patrol posts, as if deliberately letting gangs fight for the vacated territory.

First came the gunfight, then the looting, arson, and killings, plunging the entire neighborhood into complete anarchy.

Then, the military and police entered the city.

CHOQUE blocked all exits, armored vehicles drove into the narrow alleys, and helicopters hovered over the rooftops.

They swiftly eliminated all illegal armed groups, sparing not even children.

Today is the third day. The bloodstains on the street have been washed away by the rain, but the shadow of death has not yet dissipated.

blah-

Just then, a piercing static noise came from the old radio on the bar.

Valentina frowned and slapped its shell a few times.

With a buzzing sound, the signal stabilized.

Instantly, the man's deep voice came through the radio waves.

"The Brazilian people, the military has taken the necessary measures to restore order."

"Serious violent incidents have occurred in many parts of the country over the past three days."

"Terrorists, extremist groups, and foreign-controlled sabotage forces incite riots, attack police, and cause casualties."

"The Labour Party government's corruption and incompetence have plunged the country into crisis."

"Alvaro Domingos and his cronies have embezzled national wealth and instigated riots, and President Antonio has completely lost control."

"The country cannot continue to be hijacked by these criminal groups."

"A state of emergency is declared nationwide immediately."

"All government agencies will continue to operate under supervision."

"All law enforcement forces are under the direct command of the military."

"The curfew will begin at 10 p.m. tonight, and any unauthorized outings will be dealt with severely."

"The military will take all necessary measures to restore order and ensure national security."

“Any act that undermines stability will be considered a hostile act and subject to legal sanctions.”

"The military has issued an order, and all units must carry it out immediately."

The brief broadcast abruptly ended, followed by a brief echo of electrical noise before falling silent.

Valentina stared at the radio, remaining silent for a long time. The implications were self-evident.

Everything has completely changed.

Just like the statement Castello Blanco made when he announced his takeover of the government in 1968.

Valentina's throat was a little dry. She reached under the counter, pulled out a half-empty bottle of rum, unscrewed the cap, and took a swig.

The strong liquor burned her stomach, but it didn't make her feel much better.

Boom, boom, boom——

The sudden knocking startled Valentina.

She instinctively reached for the loaded pistol in the drawer.

Boom, boom, boom——

The knocking on the door continues.

Valentina held her breath, her fingertip on the trigger, and slowly walked towards the door.

If it's military or police.
If it's the military or police again
She would rather shoot herself than be taken back to that filthy cell.

Valentina carefully pulled open the roller shutter door a crack.

Fortunately, it wasn't some heavily armed burly man outside.

Instead, it was a thin young boy, carrying a black briefcase, looking around warily.

"What are you doing?" she asked in a low voice.

"Are you Valentina?" The boy looked up.

Valentina narrowed her eyes, hesitated for a moment, and said, "It's me. What's going on?"

The boy shrugged and said nonchalantly, "A masked guy gave me five dollars and told me to give it to you."

He shoved the briefcase into her hand and ran away.

Valentina stood frozen in place, a strange unease rising within her.

After hesitating for a moment, she took a deep breath, pulled down the roller shutter, and returned to the bar.

Kawada?

Maybe it was something he asked someone to bring over?

Valentina licked her chapped lips and finally unzipped her jacket.

In just a moment, she was stunned.

The briefcase was stuffed with dozens of stacks of US dollars.

Bundle after bundle, with sharp edges, Franklin stared at her coldly.

Valentina's breathing suddenly stopped, and her whole body began to tremble uncontrollably.

She couldn't believe what she was seeing.

At least 200,000.

Two hundred thousand US dollars.

More than she has earned in the past few years.

It's more than she could ever earn in her entire life.

At fifteen, for the sake of such a banknote, she knelt prostrate herself on the back seat of a tin car at the alley entrance, beneath two obese Americans whose pants were too heavy to pull up.

And now, two thousand such banknotes are neatly laid out in front of her.

It was spotless, without a trace of dirt or blood, as if it came from another fantastical world.

Valentina's fingertips trembled as she rummaged through the paper, finally finding a folded note at the very bottom.

There is only one sentence above.

The handwriting was neat and clean, written with a black ballpoint pen—

"Thank you for your help."

—Unsigned.

But she knew instantly who had left it there.

That Asian man.

Tears streamed down her face without warning, landing on the paper and leaving a shallow watermark.

Then, she broke down in tears.

(End of this chapter)