(CNN) It's not uncommon for Filipinos to have nicknames: sometimes holdovers from childhood; sometimes affectionately acquired as young adults.

Philippine National Police (PNP) Chief Ronald Dela Rosa's moniker -- "Bato," which translates to "the Rock," is one of the more apt -- an immovable, unbreakable object.

Dela Rosa has shot to fame thanks to his close relationship with the country's new strongman leader Rodrigo Duterte. He's also made a name for himself as the man behind the President's controversial war on drugs, which has seen hundreds of alleged dealers killed in a matter of weeks.

Ronald Dela Rosa was appointed head of the Philippines' national police in June.

Dela Rosa got his nickname back in the early days of his career, just after graduating from the Philippine Military Academy. After completing his ranger training he was transferred to his hometown of Davao.

"When I was (first) seen by my senior officers, my body was like a rock... rock solid. So they told me, 'Bato!' They start calling me 'Bato' because of my build.

With his gleaming bald head and barrel chest, the well-built former military man even resembles one.

"Later on they realized that I was born and raised in Barangay Bato, Santa Cruz, Davao Del Sur -- that's my birthplace, Barangay Bato."

"So that was reinforced until now. They keep calling me 'Bato.' I cannot change it anymore," he laughs.

It's been a long journey from that childhood neighborhood to the highest echelon of law enforcement in the country, and it's one that he's taken, in part, with Duterte.

Bato was his police chief when the pair were in Davao, prior to their swift rise to national prominence.

He says he doesn't like life in Manila -- "Davao is very disciplined; we have a low crime rate."

He's enjoyed a stratospheric rise, from a one-star general as chief of police in Davao to the national top job in one fell swoop.

Critics say that he's only achieved his position thanks to his long association with Duterte, but he counters naysayers, arguing it's within the President's remit to choose any general for the role.

He's known Duterte for three decades, he says.

He remains remarkably close to the tough-talking leader, and jokes to CNN that he has a telepathic connection with the man they call "the Punisher."

"We trust each other, in a very long time association. He knows what I'm capable of doing and I know what he wants to be done.

"So without saying any word we can communicate with each other, through mental telepathy," he says, mimicking their thoughts passing through the ether, before bursting into laughter.

"He's the best leader in the universe for me. He's a no-nonsense leader."

Tasked with transforming the Philippines, one of the poorest countries in Asia into a "drugless society," he's approached the task with an admirable zeal, if somewhat questionable methods.

He's expanded his "tokhan," or "knock and plead" operations, from a local experiment to national -- if unofficial -- police policy.

The operations, his "brainchild," see heavy-handed groups of police tour local neighborhoods and politely ask suspected drug users to voluntarily surrender.

The tactic has seen over 700,000 such surrenders in two months. But when confronted with a phalanx of heavily armed officers, it is hard to see who would refuse to comply.

The President instructed him to replicate his successes from Davao across the country, but so far he hasn't issued any written guidelines for how local forces should proceed.

"We don't need" a national strategy, he says. "We've been doing this for a long time."

In 6,000 police operations, he said drugs worth 2.38 billion pesos ($51 million) had been seized. CNN could not independently verify the figures the government provided.

But the impressive numbers have come at a very visible human cost.

There have been 756 suspects killed in police operations since the war on drugs began, alongside 1,160 drug-related killings that have occurred, many of which have been attributed to vigilantes.

In one breath he says he "hates extrajudical killings," but in the next he says there are benefits to the spate of deaths. He admits to "mixed emotions," when he sees images of suspected drug dealers gunned down.

"I pity the guy for losing his life but at the same time I see that there is one less pusher."

But what would he say to family members who have been killed? "Please do not be afraid of police. I guarantee we will protect you."

He's given himself six months to prove his mettle -- "If I fail, I will surrender. I will tell (Duterte) to please relieve me from my post. (I'll tell him) I cannot win this war."

Is ridding a country such as the Philippines of drugs in just six months a realistic goal?

"No. But if you aim high you can achieve acceptable levels."

But Bato says he's ordered his officers to investigate and make arrests. But he denies that he tolerated the gangs while police chief in his hometown.

"Maybe. Maybe a coincidence. But please don't accuse me. I'm not the one bringing these death squads here in the Philippines," he says.

"I have been challenging this death squads in Davao City to come and get me. Instead of killing these helpless people... they can face me in a gun duel. I am challenging these vigilantes. You can fight it out with me if you want to kill somebody."

He points to the president's sky-high approval ratings as proof that the country is desperate for tough measures.

"A lot of support. A lot of support. This is borne out of frustration," he says.

"The past situation where drugs were being sold on the street like candies and innocent people are being killed, being raped by these drug crazed people, by the drug addicts... we are delivering his promise."

But is it worth the bodies piling up in the trash-strewn streets of poor neighborhoods across the country? These aren't desperate measures, he says. "We just have to do our job."</s>(CNN) It's not uncommon for Filipinos to have nicknames: sometimes holdovers from childhood; sometimes affectionately acquired as young adults.

Philippine National Police (PNP) Chief Ronald Dela Rosa's moniker -- "Bato," which translates to "the Rock," is one of the more apt -- an immovable, unbreakable object.

Dela Rosa has shot to fame thanks to his close relationship with the country's new strongman leader Rodrigo Duterte. He's also made a name for himself as the man behind the President's controversial war on drugs, which has seen hundreds of alleged dealers killed in a matter of weeks.

Ronald Dela Rosa was appointed head of the Philippines' national police in June.

Dela Rosa got his nickname back in the early days of his career, just after graduating from the Philippine Military Academy. After completing his ranger training he was transferred to his hometown of Davao.

"When I was (first) seen by my senior officers, my body was like a rock... rock solid. So they told me, 'Bato!' They start calling me 'Bato' because of my build.

With his gleaming bald head and barrel chest, the well-built former military man even resembles one.

"Later on they realized that I was born and raised in Barangay Bato, Santa Cruz, Davao Del Sur -- that's my birthplace, Barangay Bato."

"So that was reinforced until now. They keep calling me 'Bato.' I cannot change it anymore," he laughs.

It's been a long journey from that childhood neighborhood to the highest echelon of law enforcement in the country, and it's one that he's taken, in part, with Duterte.

Bato was his police chief when the pair were in Davao, prior to their swift rise to national prominence.

He says he doesn't like life in Manila -- "Davao is very disciplined; we have a low crime rate."

He's enjoyed a stratospheric rise, from a one-star general as chief of police in Davao to the national top job in one fell swoop.

Critics say that he's only achieved his position thanks to his long association with Duterte, but he counters naysayers, arguing it's within the President's remit to choose any general for the role.

He's known Duterte for three decades, he says.

He remains remarkably close to the tough-talking leader, and jokes to CNN that he has a telepathic connection with the man they call "the Punisher."

"We trust each other, in a very long time association. He knows what I'm capable of doing and I know what he wants to be done.

"So without saying any word we can communicate with each other, through mental telepathy," he says, mimicking their thoughts passing through the ether, before bursting into laughter.

"He's the best leader in the universe for me. He's a no-nonsense leader."

Tasked with transforming the Philippines, one of the poorest countries in Asia into a "drugless society," he's approached the task with an admirable zeal, if somewhat questionable methods.

He's expanded his "tokhan," or "knock and plead" operations, from a local experiment to national -- if unofficial -- police policy.

The operations, his "brainchild," see heavy-handed groups of police tour local neighborhoods and politely ask suspected drug users to voluntarily surrender.

The tactic has seen over 700,000 such surrenders in two months. But when confronted with a phalanx of heavily armed officers, it is hard to see who would refuse to comply.

The President instructed him to replicate his successes from Davao across the country, but so far he hasn't issued any written guidelines for how local forces should proceed.

"We don't need" a national strategy, he says. "We've been doing this for a long time."

In 6,000 police operations, he said drugs worth 2.38 billion pesos ($51 million) had been seized. CNN could not independently verify the figures the government provided.

But the impressive numbers have come at a very visible human cost.

There have been 756 suspects killed in police operations since the war on drugs began, alongside 1,160 drug-related killings that have occurred, many of which have been attributed to vigilantes.

In one breath he says he "hates extrajudical killings," but in the next he says there are benefits to the spate of deaths. He admits to "mixed emotions," when he sees images of suspected drug dealers gunned down.

"I pity the guy for losing his life but at the same time I see that there is one less pusher."

But what would he say to family members who have been killed? "Please do not be afraid of police. I guarantee we will protect you."

He's given himself six months to prove his mettle -- "If I fail, I will surrender. I will tell (Duterte) to please relieve me from my post. (I'll tell him) I cannot win this war."

Is ridding a country such as the Philippines of drugs in just six months a realistic goal?

"No. But if you aim high you can achieve acceptable levels."

But Bato says he's ordered his officers to investigate and make arrests. But he denies that he tolerated the gangs while police chief in his hometown.

"Maybe. Maybe a coincidence. But please don't accuse me. I'm not the one bringing these death squads here in the Philippines," he says.

"I have been challenging this death squads in Davao City to come and get me. Instead of killing these helpless people... they can face me in a gun duel. I am challenging these vigilantes. You can fight it out with me if you want to kill somebody."

He points to the president's sky-high approval ratings as proof that the country is desperate for tough measures.

"A lot of support. A lot of support. This is borne out of frustration," he says.

"The past situation where drugs were being sold on the street like candies and innocent people are being killed, being raped by these drug crazed people, by the drug addicts... we are delivering his promise."

But is it worth the bodies piling up in the trash-strewn streets of poor neighborhoods across the country? These aren't desperate measures, he says. "We just have to do our job."</s>Philippines' Duterte says "plenty will be killed" in anti-drugs drive

DAVAO CITY, Philippines, Sept 5 (Reuters) - Philippine President Rodrigo Duterte said on Monday "plenty will be killed" before the end of his campaign against illegal drugs that has led to the death of about 2,400 people since he became president two months ago.

Duterte will meet Barack Obama at a regional summit in Laos on Tuesday, although he has made it clear he will take no lecture on human rights from the U.S. president.

"Plenty will be killed until the last pusher is out of the streets. Until the (last) drug manufacturer is killed we will continue," Duterte told reporters before leaving for Laos.

Police say about 900 of those killed died in police operations, and the rest were "deaths under investigation", a term human rights activists say is a euphemism for vigilante and extrajudicial killings.

Duterte, a former crime-busting mayor of southern Davao city, won the presidency in May promising to suppress crime and wipe out drugs and drug dealers.

While his campaign has won popular support, the killings have alarmed rights groups and brought expressions of concern from the United States, a former colonial power and a close Philippine ally, and the United Nations.

"I am a president of a sovereign state and we have long ceased to be a colony," Duterte said, when asked about his meeting with Obama.

"Who is he to confront me? As a matter of fact, America has one too many to answer for," he said.

"Everybody has a terrible record of extrajudicial killings."

He earlier lambasted the United Nations after it criticised the surge in killings and he turned down a meeting with U.N. Secretary-General Ban Ki-moon at the summit in Laos. (Reporting by Neil Jerome Morales; Writing by Karen Lema; Editing by Robert Birsel)</s>(CNN) It's not uncommon for Filipinos to have nicknames: sometimes holdovers from childhood; sometimes affectionately acquired as young adults.

Philippine National Police (PNP) Chief Ronald Dela Rosa's moniker -- "Bato," which translates to "the Rock," is one of the more apt -- an immovable, unbreakable object.

Dela Rosa has shot to fame thanks to his close relationship with the country's new strongman leader Rodrigo Duterte. He's also made a name for himself as the man behind the President's controversial war on drugs, which has seen hundreds of alleged dealers killed in a matter of weeks.

Ronald Dela Rosa was appointed head of the Philippines' national police in June.

Dela Rosa got his nickname back in the early days of his career, just after graduating from the Philippine Military Academy. After completing his ranger training he was transferred to his hometown of Davao.

"When I was (first) seen by my senior officers, my body was like a rock... rock solid. So they told me, 'Bato!' They start calling me 'Bato' because of my build.

With his gleaming bald head and barrel chest, the well-built former military man even resembles one.

"Later on they realized that I was born and raised in Barangay Bato, Santa Cruz, Davao Del Sur -- that's my birthplace, Barangay Bato."

"So that was reinforced until now. They keep calling me 'Bato.' I cannot change it anymore," he laughs.

It's been a long journey from that childhood neighborhood to the highest echelon of law enforcement in the country, and it's one that he's taken, in part, with Duterte.

Bato was his police chief when the pair were in Davao, prior to their swift rise to national prominence.

He says he doesn't like life in Manila -- "Davao is very disciplined; we have a low crime rate."

He's enjoyed a stratospheric rise, from a one-star general as chief of police in Davao to the national top job in one fell swoop.

Critics say that he's only achieved his position thanks to his long association with Duterte, but he counters naysayers, arguing it's within the President's remit to choose any general for the role.

He's known Duterte for three decades, he says.

He remains remarkably close to the tough-talking leader, and jokes to CNN that he has a telepathic connection with the man they call "the Punisher."

"We trust each other, in a very long time association. He knows what I'm capable of doing and I know what he wants to be done.

"So without saying any word we can communicate with each other, through mental telepathy," he says, mimicking their thoughts passing through the ether, before bursting into laughter.

"He's the best leader in the universe for me. He's a no-nonsense leader."

Tasked with transforming the Philippines, one of the poorest countries in Asia into a "drugless society," he's approached the task with an admirable zeal, if somewhat questionable methods.

He's expanded his "tokhan," or "knock and plead" operations, from a local experiment to national -- if unofficial -- police policy.

The operations, his "brainchild," see heavy-handed groups of police tour local neighborhoods and politely ask suspected drug users to voluntarily surrender.

The tactic has seen over 700,000 such surrenders in two months. But when confronted with a phalanx of heavily armed officers, it is hard to see who would refuse to comply.

The President instructed him to replicate his successes from Davao across the country, but so far he hasn't issued any written guidelines for how local forces should proceed.

"We don't need" a national strategy, he says. "We've been doing this for a long time."

In 6,000 police operations, he said drugs worth 2.38 billion pesos ($51 million) had been seized. CNN could not independently verify the figures the government provided.

But the impressive numbers have come at a very visible human cost.

There have been 756 suspects killed in police operations since the war on drugs began, alongside 1,160 drug-related killings that have occurred, many of which have been attributed to vigilantes.

In one breath he says he "hates extrajudical killings," but in the next he says there are benefits to the spate of deaths. He admits to "mixed emotions," when he sees images of suspected drug dealers gunned down.

"I pity the guy for losing his life but at the same time I see that there is one less pusher."

But what would he say to family members who have been killed? "Please do not be afraid of police. I guarantee we will protect you."

He's given himself six months to prove his mettle -- "If I fail, I will surrender. I will tell (Duterte) to please relieve me from my post. (I'll tell him) I cannot win this war."

Is ridding a country such as the Philippines of drugs in just six months a realistic goal?

"No. But if you aim high you can achieve acceptable levels."

But Bato says he's ordered his officers to investigate and make arrests. But he denies that he tolerated the gangs while police chief in his hometown.

"Maybe. Maybe a coincidence. But please don't accuse me. I'm not the one bringing these death squads here in the Philippines," he says.

"I have been challenging this death squads in Davao City to come and get me. Instead of killing these helpless people... they can face me in a gun duel. I am challenging these vigilantes. You can fight it out with me if you want to kill somebody."

He points to the president's sky-high approval ratings as proof that the country is desperate for tough measures.

"A lot of support. A lot of support. This is borne out of frustration," he says.

"The past situation where drugs were being sold on the street like candies and innocent people are being killed, being raped by these drug crazed people, by the drug addicts... we are delivering his promise."

But is it worth the bodies piling up in the trash-strewn streets of poor neighborhoods across the country? These aren't desperate measures, he says. "We just have to do our job."</s>Philippine President Rodrigo Duterte said on Monday "plenty will be killed" before the end of his campaign against illegal drugs that has led to the death of about 2,400 people since he became president two months ago.

"Plenty will be killed until the last pusher is out of the streets. Until the (last) drug manufacturer is killed we will continue," Duterte told reporters before leaving for a regional summit on Laos.</s>An average of 44 people are being killed each day in Philippine President Rodrigo Duterte's war on crime, according to police data released Tuesday that showed the death toll surging to nearly 3,000.

The new figures came after Duterte vowed on Monday to defy a wave of international condemnation and continue killing until every drug trafficker in the Philippines was dead.

"More people will be killed, plenty will be killed until the last pusher is out of the streets," said Duterte, who scored a landslide election victory in May largely on his promise to fight crime.

"Until the (last) drug manufacturer is killed, we will continue and I will continue."

Police have killed 1,033 people in anti-drug operations since Duterte was sworn into office just over two months ago, according to the national police update on Tuesday.

Another 1,894 people have died in unexplained deaths, police said, which rights groups believe are largely due to out-of-control security forces and hired assassins.

The total of 2,927 is more than 500 higher than the figure released by police on Sunday, and equates to an average of 44 a day since Duterte took office on June 30.

US President Barack Obama was planning to raise concerns about the war on crime with Duterte at a meeting in Laos on Tuesday afternoon.

But Obama cancelled the meeting after Duterte warned he would not be lectured to, and branded the US president a "son of a whore".

Philippine police insist they are killing only in self defence.

"They have guns, they are drug-crazed. Our policemen are just defending themselves," national police spokesman Dionardo Carlos told AFP.

Police chief Ronald dela Rosa has also regularly said the unexplained deaths are due to drug syndicates waging war against each other, rather than extrajudicial killings by vigilantes and others.

Still, Duterte has promised to protect police from prosecution if they are charged over the deaths and insisted human rights cannot get in the way of his war.

He has also urged ordinary Filipinos to kill drug addicts in their communities.

Dela Rosa last month called for drug addicts to kill traffickers and burn down their homes.

The United Nations special rapporteur on summary executions has warned incitement to kill is a crime under international law.

But Duterte has told the United Nations not to interfere and said he will use all means necessary to eradicate drugs in society, which he insists is the nation's biggest problem.</s>Cellphone video footage circulating on social media purports to capture the moment Sison was killed last month when, according to local officials, police were looking for drug pushers in the Pasay township of the Philippines' capital.

A voice on the video, recorded by a neighbor according to newspaper reports, can be heard shouting "Don't do it, I'll surrender!". Then there is the sound of gunfire.

A poster near the coffin, which lies beside a stinking canal cut between ramshackle homes, demands "Justice for Eric Quintinita Sison". A handpainted sign reads: "OVERKILL - JUSTICE 4 ERIC."

These are rare tokens of protest against a surge of killings unleashed since Rodrigo Duterte became president of the Philippines just over two months ago and pledged to wage war on drug dealers and crush widespread addiction to methamphetamine.

Very little stands in the way of his bloody juggernaut.

Last week the number of people killed since July 1 reached 2,400: about 900 died in police operations, and the rest are "deaths under investigation", a term human rights activists say is a euphemism for vigilante and extrajudicial killings.

Duterte's office did not immediately respond to a request for comment on this report.

Reuters interviews reveal that the police's Internal Affairs Service (IAS) and the Commission on Human Rights (CHR) are so overwhelmed by the killings that they can investigate only a fraction, and there is scant hope of establishing many as unlawful because witnesses are too terrified to come forward.

Meanwhile, the immense popularity of Duterte's crusade and a climate of fear whipped up by the bloodletting have together silenced dissent from civil society. Hardly anyone turned up at candlelight vigils in Manila recently to protest against extrajudicial killings.

Even as the death toll rose, a July poll by Pulse Asia put Duterte's approval rating at 91 percent.

Anxious reminders by the Catholic Church of the commandment 'thou shalt not kill' make few headlines in the predominantly Catholic country, with newspapers preferring to carry breathless accounts of the latest slayings.

Duterte has delivered withering attacks on his chief critic, Senator Leila de Lima, accusing her of dealing in drugs herself and having an affair with her driver.

"It's only the president who can stop this," de Lima told Reuters last week, deploring what she described as the "madness" that led in one case to a five-year-old girl being shot in the head.

"How many more of these cases of collateral damage are we willing to bear before we can really start screaming about it?" she asked.

As for critics abroad, Duterte pours scorn on them in language larded with curses.

He lambasted the United Nations after it criticized the surge in killings and he turned down a meeting with U.N. Secretary General Ban Ki-moon at a summit in Laos this week.

Duterte will meet Barack Obama in Laos on Tuesday, although he has made it clear in advance that he will take no lecture on human rights from the U.S. president, when in the United States he alleged "black people are being shot even if they are already lying down".

Duterte may intensify the crackdown after 14 people were killed on Friday in a bomb attack at a market in his hometown, Davao. Police blamed the Abu Sayyaf, an Islamic State-linked group Duterte has vowed to destroy, but his war on the drug trade is making enemies elsewhere and the attack quickened rumors of a plot to kill him.

Duterte has declared a nationwide "state of lawlessness" after the blast that authorizes troops to reinforce the police with checkpoints and patrols.

He has managed with remarkable speed to nationalize a vicious model for fighting crime that he pioneered as mayor of Davao for 22 years.

Rights groups documented hundreds of suspicious murders in Davao on Duterte's watch and say death squads operated with impunity there. "The Punisher", as some call him, denies ordering extrajudicial killings but he does not condemn them.

Across the country now, lists of suspected drug pushers are being provided to police by neighborhood chiefs, adding to a sense of fear and distrust across communities.

Politicians of all hues have gone quiet, and a Senate enquiry led by de Lima only has the power to propose legislation, not stop the killers in their tracks.

Chief Superintendent Leo Angelo Leuterio, who heads the IAS, says it is his office's responsibility to investigate every discharge of firearms involving police. But with only about 170 investigators nationwide, the IAS is able to deal with just 30 percent of the roughly 30 cases coming in every day.

"Our resources are breaking at the seams," said Leuterio.

The IAS chief is supposed to be a civilian to ensure its independence but Leuterio is a policeman who spent 13 years of his career in Duterte's hometown, Davao. He says he is unbiased and has a track record of dismissing hundreds of officers for misconduct.

The CHR, for its part, is looking at just 259 of the 2,000-plus killings since July 1. Its forensics team of 14 is swamped and in their cramped office investigators probing possible extrajudicial killings are handling just 12 dossiers.

The commission says its biggest obstacle is that witnesses are hard to find.

One person who did come forward is Harrah Kazuo, whose husband and father-in-law were severely beaten and shot dead in a police station, according to a CHR report. She told Reuters that when the police entered their home without a warrant they even removed her toddler's underwear to search for drugs.

Police have not commented on what happened in the home, but two officers have been arrested and charged with murder in connection with the case. Kazuo has been taken into witness protection by the CHR.

She is a rare protesting voice in an environment where many are fearful.

On Aug. 29, police told reporters they had opened fire that night on a drug suspect in Tondo, a dirt-poor and densely populated district of Manila.

A Reuters reporter looked into the suspect's one-room home and saw a mattress splattered with blood. He asked a neighbor how many shots had been fired, but the man replied: "Sorry, my friend. I didn't hear a single shot," and walked away.</s>A four-year-old girl hugging her father on the back of a motorcycle while being taken to buy popcorn is among the latest victims of Philippines President Rodrigo Duterte's shoot-on-sight crackdown on drug pushers in the Philippines that has left 2400 people dead since July 1.

Althea Barbon was shot by police in Guihulngan City on Negros Island.

Duterte, 71, swept into office after the country's May elections promising a violent end to the nation's drug epidemic and often calls his critics "sons of bitches" or "sons of whores".

Police said Althea's death was "collateral" damage in Duterte's war on drugs, which has been condemned by the US, the United Nations, the Catholic Church and many civil society organisations in the Philippines.

READ MORE:

 * Girl, 5, latest victim in the Philippines' 'war on drugs'

 * Police in the Philippines get bounties for killing criminals

 * Rodrigo Duterte to work 'from 1pm to midnight every day'

 * Rise of Duterte stirs up uncertainty in the South China Sea



 Althea's father, Pim Alrick Barbon, had been put on a list of drug suspects and was carrying a gun and drugs when he took Althea shopping, said police.

"We regret a lot that a child was killed when she was not the target," said Denila Katalbas, the police chief in Guihulngan City.

"Had we seen the child we would not have pushed through with the operation. We would have cancelled. We policemen are humans, we are not animals," he added.

Althea's death came only days after a five-year-old girl was shot dead by unidentified gunmen who attacked a home in Dagupan City, north of Manila.

The bullet in that case was meant for her grandfather, who has also been put on a drug suspect list.</s>As bodies pile up in Philippines, many fear to talk about Duterte's war

MANILA, Sept 5 (Reuters) - The body of 22-year-old pedicab driver Eric Sison lies in a coffin in a Manila slum with a chick pacing across his casket, placed there in keeping with a local tradition to symbolically peck at the conscience of his killers.

Cellphone video footage circulating on social media purports to capture the moment Sison was killed last month when, according to local officials, police were looking for drug pushers in the Pasay township of the Philippines' capital.

A voice on the video, recorded by a neighbour according to newspaper reports, can be heard shouting "Don't do it, I'll surrender!". Then there is the sound of gunfire.

A poster near the coffin, which lies beside a stinking canal cut between ramshackle homes, demands "Justice for Eric Quintinita Sison". A handpainted sign reads: "OVERKILL - JUSTICE 4 ERIC."

These are rare tokens of protest against a surge of killings unleashed since Rodrigo Duterte became president of the Philippines just over two months ago and pledged to wage war on drug dealers and crush widespread addiction to methamphetamine.

Very little stands in the way of his campaign.

Last week, the number of people killed since July 1 reached 2,400: about 900 died in police operations, and the rest are "deaths under investigation", a term human rights activists say is a euphemism for vigilante and extrajudicial killings.

Duterte's office did not immediately respond to a request for comment for this story.

But he told a news conference on Monday that "plenty will be killed" in his campaign.

"Until the (last) drug manufacturer is killed we will continue," Duterte told reporters before leaving for a regional summit in Laos, where he is due to meet U.S. President Barack Obama on Tuesday.

Reuters interviews reveal that the police's Internal Affairs Service (IAS) and the Commission on Human Rights (CHR) are so overwhelmed by the killings that they can investigate only a fraction, and there is scant hope of establishing many as unlawful because witnesses are too terrified to come forward.

Meanwhile, the immense popularity of Duterte's crusade and a climate of fear it has engendered have severely restrained dissent from civil society. Hardly anyone turned up at candlelight vigils in Manila recently to protest against extrajudicial killings.

Even as the death toll rose, a July poll by Pulse Asia put Duterte's approval rating at 91 percent.

Anxious reminders by the Catholic Church of the commandment 'thou shalt not kill' make few headlines in the predominantly Catholic country, with newspapers preferring to carry breathless accounts of the latest slayings.

Duterte has delivered withering attacks on his chief critic, Senator Leila de Lima, accusing her of dealing in drugs herself and having an affair with her driver.

"It's only the president who can stop this," de Lima told Reuters last week, deploring what she described as the "madness" that led in one case to a five-year-old girl being shot in the head.

"How many more of these cases of collateral damage are we willing to bear before we can really start screaming about it?" she asked.

As for critics abroad, Duterte pours scorn on them in language larded with curses.

He lambasted the United Nations after it criticised the surge in killings and he turned down a meeting with U.N. Secretary General Ban Ki-moon at a summit in Laos this week.

Duterte has also made it clear he will take no lecture on human rights from Obama, when in the United States he alleged "black people are being shot even if they are already lying down".

Duterte may intensify the crackdown after 14 people were killed on Friday in a bomb attack at a market in his hometown, Davao. Police blamed the Abu Sayyaf, an Islamic State-linked group Duterte has vowed to destroy, but his war on the drug trade is making enemies elsewhere and the attack quickened rumours of a plot to kill him.

Duterte has declared a nationwide "state of lawlessness" after the blast that authorises troops to reinforce the police with checkpoints and patrols.

He has managed with remarkable speed to nationalise a model for fighting crime that he pioneered as mayor of Davao for 22 years.

Rights groups documented hundreds of suspicious murders in Davao on Duterte's watch and say death squads operated with impunity there. "The Punisher", as some call him, denies ordering extrajudicial killings but he does not condemn them.

Across the country now, lists of suspected drug pushers are being provided to police by neighbourhood chiefs, adding to a sense of fear and distrust across communities.

Politicians of all hues have gone quiet, and a Senate enquiry led by de Lima only has the power to propose legislation.

Chief Superintendent Leo Angelo Leuterio, who heads the IAS, says it is his office's responsibility to investigate every discharge of firearms involving police. But with only about 170 investigators nationwide, the IAS is able to deal with just 30 percent of the roughly 30 cases coming in every day.

"Our resources are breaking at the seams," said Leuterio.

The IAS chief is supposed to be a civilian to ensure its independence but Leuterio is a policeman who spent 13 years of his career in Duterte's hometown, Davao. He says he is unbiased and has a track record of dismissing hundreds of officers for misconduct.

The CHR, for its part, is looking at just 259 of the 2,000-plus killings since July 1. Its forensics team of 14 is swamped and in their cramped office investigators probing possible extrajudicial killings are handling just 12 dossiers.

The commission says its biggest obstacle is that witnesses are hard to find.

One person who did come forward is Harrah Kazuo, whose husband and father-in-law were severely beaten and shot dead in a police station, according to a CHR report. She told Reuters that when the police entered their home without a warrant they even removed her toddler's underwear to search for drugs.

Police have declined comment on what happened in the home, but two officers have been arrested and charged with murder in connection with the case. Kazuo has been taken into witness protection by the CHR.

She is a rare protesting voice in an environment where many are fearful.

On Aug. 29, police told reporters they had opened fire that night on a drug suspect in Tondo, a dirt-poor and densely populated district of Manila.

A Reuters reporter looked into the suspect's one-room home and saw a mattress splattered with blood. He asked a neighbour how many shots had been fired, but the man replied: "Sorry, my friend. I didn't hear a single shot," and walked away.</s>(CNN) It's not uncommon for Filipinos to have nicknames: sometimes holdovers from childhood; sometimes affectionately acquired as young adults.

Philippine National Police (PNP) Chief Ronald Dela Rosa's moniker -- "Bato," which translates to "the Rock," is one of the more apt -- an immovable, unbreakable object.

Dela Rosa has shot to fame thanks to his close relationship with the country's new strongman leader Rodrigo Duterte. He's also made a name for himself as the man behind the President's controversial war on drugs, which has seen hundreds of alleged dealers killed in a matter of weeks.

Ronald Dela Rosa was appointed head of the Philippines' national police in June.

Dela Rosa got his nickname back in the early days of his career, just after graduating from the Philippine Military Academy. After completing his ranger training he was transferred to his hometown of Davao.

"When I was (first) seen by my senior officers, my body was like a rock... rock solid. So they told me, 'Bato!' They start calling me 'Bato' because of my build.

With his gleaming bald head and barrel chest, the well-built former military man even resembles one.

"Later on they realized that I was born and raised in Barangay Bato, Santa Cruz, Davao Del Sur -- that's my birthplace, Barangay Bato."

"So that was reinforced until now. They keep calling me 'Bato.' I cannot change it anymore," he laughs.

It's been a long journey from that childhood neighborhood to the highest echelon of law enforcement in the country, and it's one that he's taken, in part, with Duterte.

Bato was his police chief when the pair were in Davao, prior to their swift rise to national prominence.

He says he doesn't like life in Manila -- "Davao is very disciplined; we have a low crime rate."

He's enjoyed a stratospheric rise, from a one-star general as chief of police in Davao to the national top job in one fell swoop.

Critics say that he's only achieved his position thanks to his long association with Duterte, but he counters naysayers, arguing it's within the President's remit to choose any general for the role.

He's known Duterte for three decades, he says.

He remains remarkably close to the tough-talking leader, and jokes to CNN that he has a telepathic connection with the man they call "the Punisher."

"We trust each other, in a very long time association. He knows what I'm capable of doing and I know what he wants to be done.

"So without saying any word we can communicate with each other, through mental telepathy," he says, mimicking their thoughts passing through the ether, before bursting into laughter.

"He's the best leader in the universe for me. He's a no-nonsense leader."

Tasked with transforming the Philippines, one of the poorest countries in Asia into a "drugless society," he's approached the task with an admirable zeal, if somewhat questionable methods.

He's expanded his "tokhan," or "knock and plead" operations, from a local experiment to national -- if unofficial -- police policy.

The operations, his "brainchild," see heavy-handed groups of police tour local neighborhoods and politely ask suspected drug users to voluntarily surrender.

The tactic has seen over 700,000 such surrenders in two months. But when confronted with a phalanx of heavily armed officers, it is hard to see who would refuse to comply.

The President instructed him to replicate his successes from Davao across the country, but so far he hasn't issued any written guidelines for how local forces should proceed.

"We don't need" a national strategy, he says. "We've been doing this for a long time."

In 6,000 police operations, he said drugs worth 2.38 billion pesos ($51 million) had been seized. CNN could not independently verify the figures the government provided.

But the impressive numbers have come at a very visible human cost.

There have been 756 suspects killed in police operations since the war on drugs began, alongside 1,160 drug-related killings that have occurred, many of which have been attributed to vigilantes.

In one breath he says he "hates extrajudical killings," but in the next he says there are benefits to the spate of deaths. He admits to "mixed emotions," when he sees images of suspected drug dealers gunned down.

"I pity the guy for losing his life but at the same time I see that there is one less pusher."

But what would he say to family members who have been killed? "Please do not be afraid of police. I guarantee we will protect you."

He's given himself six months to prove his mettle -- "If I fail, I will surrender. I will tell (Duterte) to please relieve me from my post. (I'll tell him) I cannot win this war."

Is ridding a country such as the Philippines of drugs in just six months a realistic goal?

"No. But if you aim high you can achieve acceptable levels."

But Bato says he's ordered his officers to investigate and make arrests. But he denies that he tolerated the gangs while police chief in his hometown.

"Maybe. Maybe a coincidence. But please don't accuse me. I'm not the one bringing these death squads here in the Philippines," he says.

"I have been challenging this death squads in Davao City to come and get me. Instead of killing these helpless people... they can face me in a gun duel. I am challenging these vigilantes. You can fight it out with me if you want to kill somebody."

He points to the president's sky-high approval ratings as proof that the country is desperate for tough measures.

"A lot of support. A lot of support. This is borne out of frustration," he says.

"The past situation where drugs were being sold on the street like candies and innocent people are being killed, being raped by these drug crazed people, by the drug addicts... we are delivering his promise."

But is it worth the bodies piling up in the trash-strewn streets of poor neighborhoods across the country? These aren't desperate measures, he says. "We just have to do our job."
With 2,400 people dead so far, Rodrigo Duterte, the President of the Philippines, says that "plenty will be killed" in the war against drugs.