The most humiliating and coercive scenes often unfold not in some back alley with a knife at the throat, but inside the glossy glass façades of official buildings, in the very heart of the city. These institutions wear the costume of legitimacy. The foreigner is summoned with a neatly printed notice, an official-looking letter, or a polite phone call extending a “kind invitation” to discuss their visa status or activity. Once inside, the tone flips. They are insulted in a bizarre blend of pidgin English and aggressive barked phrases, stripped of dignity with fabricated charges that have no logical consistency. No clear laws are cited. No explanations offered. Merely an invented narrative, coupled with a demand. “You must pay now. Or prison.” An armed officer stands nearby, silent, holding handcuffs already unlatched. No time is given to search for lawyers. No space to call an embassy. The foreigner—intelligent, law-abiding, perhaps even well-prepared—is thrown into a panic, with no access to any structure that might intervene. This is where the absence of a truly international, procedural, and audit-grade civilian protection force becomes fatal. There must be an equivalent to dialing 9-1-1 for international corruption cases. And the person who arrives must be immediately capable of initiating formal legal dialogue, investigating claims, and terminating the abusive chain of fabricated logic. There must be someone present whose very uniform reminds the room: there are rules beyond this building, and they are watching.