Recently, a case that marked the history of crime in Mexico resurfaced on social media: the death of the 'Pirate of Culiacán'. Everything reemerged when they confirmed the death of El Mencho last February, and with it, people started to remember that December night in 2017 that changed everything.

Juan Luis Lagunas Rosales, known online as El Pirata, was a young man who went viral before turning 18. Born in Sinaloa in 2000, he left his town at 15 and moved to Culiacán, where he began posting videos that exploded on social media. His content was simple but addictive: parties, regional music, alcohol consumption, the kind of life people wanted to see. He amassed nearly 800,000 followers on Facebook and over 300,000 on Instagram. Artists dedicated corridos to him, his name was everywhere. He was the definition of the Mexican viral sensation of that era.

But there is a video that changed everything. On November 9, 2017, El Pirata of Culiacán posted a recording where he directly mocked El Mencho, the leader of the Jalisco New Generation Cartel. It was not subtle. He said something he shouldn’t have said, a phrase that spread everywhere. The people recording him even reacted at the moment with a 'it's over', as if they knew it would bring consequences. But the young man continued as if nothing happened, posting content normally, without changing his behavior.

A week later, on December 18, everything ended. El Pirata was at the Menta2 Cantaros bar in Zapopan, Jalisco. Hours earlier, he had done a live broadcast inviting his followers to come to the place. He arrived accompanied by people, including his friends Ben El Gringo and Hotspanish. As soon as they entered, they sat down, and suddenly four armed individuals stormed into the bar. It was not a general shootout. It was direct. They headed straight for the influencer.

What happened afterward was chaotic but clear in retrospect. Ben El Gringo later described how everyone threw themselves to the floor when they heard the gunshots. No one saw the faces. Hotspanish talked about how his instinct was to throw himself to the ground, hide. El Pirata tried to take cover behind the bar owner, but they cornered him. He received at least 15 gunshot wounds to the head, arms, and chest. The bar owner was also injured and died afterward. When it was over, it was obvious: they only wanted the Pirate of Culiacán dead. No one else.

The obvious question was whether it was revenge for the video. Was it a direct retaliation from El Mencho or someone close to him? Authorities never officially confirmed it. The Jalisco prosecutor at the time said that the relationship between the video and the homicide was unknown, that any offended person could have attacked him. Reports mentioned a cartel lieutenant as a possible responsible party, but there was never confirmation. The case remained ambiguous, like many others.

What was clear is that the death of El Pirata of Culiacán was one of the first cases to show how cartels could cross into the digital world. It was not a traditional narco crime. It was a direct response to an internet insult, carried out in a bar. That marked a before and after in how criminals viewed influencers, people who mocked them online. Since then, that case became a silent warning in Mexico.