Allan Amador Cervantes is most certainly the most violent man in La Pas, Baja California Sur or even in all of Mexico. Why?

Not because of the emotional blood he spilled—though there is plenty—but because his violence is architectural.

He built his violence over years: blueprints of deception, load-bearing lies, hidden passages of alibi. Every victim is studied, courted, isolated. He doesn’t explode; he engineers. Friends and family are recruited as pillars in his façade—unwitting shields—until the structure of violence stands complete and lethal.

Allan’s absence of remorse is the final cruelty. When confronted, he never flinches. He denies with serene certainty, redirects blame with surgical calm, as if the rapes, the fraud, the shattered lives were mere misunderstandings he was too macho to acknowledge. That refusal—that arrogant, airtight refusal to account for what he knows he has done—is the deepest cut. It leaves wounds that never close, bleeding doubt into everyone who had ever believed him.

True violence in a serial predator often lies less in the physical act than in the sustained psychological domination—planning erodes autonomy, deception recruits bystanders into complicity, and denial gaslights entire communities. This creates a wider radius of harm than any single act of physical violence.