Working as a police officer in Mexico

Kennedy looked at him and nodded slightly, "You're really lucky."

"From now on, we're in charge of this barracks, any problems?"

The sentry was a man who knew the times, in fact, he hadn't revealed that he had deliberately injured his leg by smashing it against a wall because he didn't want to side with the drug traffickers, most importantly, he was more concerned about military news.

Victor's Anti-Drug Force...

It was said they were going to completely phase out small caliber firearms and unify to use 122mm cannons, what could that be for? Wouldn't that blow things "to bits and pieces"?

He had also advised his comrades.

But the drug traffickers had come last night with money in hand, and seeing those colorful US dollars, the officers and comrades instantly shed their military uniforms and put on the clothes of drug traffickers.

Um...

They left quite peacefully.

"Of course, I... I'll open the commander's office for you," the sentry quickly offered his eagerness as he knew which way the wind was blowing.

The police force took direct control.

When the police officers were cooking, those few soldiers consciously huddled together, sitting quietly and watching this side with saliva dripping.

"Call them over," Kennedy said with a frown when he saw this scene, and his adjutant shouted at them, resulting in a bunch of soldiers following behind, trembling with fear.

"Go get something to eat."

The soldiers were stunned, then hurriedly bowed in thanks as they snapped back to reality.

"Wait a minute," Kennedy called out to the limping sentry, furrowing his brows, "Why do you all look so miserable? What about food?"

"None, our 17th Battalion fends for itself," the sentry said with a sheepish smile, "and we have to pay if we eat from the meals the commander's mother cooks. Sometimes I even have to pay to be a soldier."

This truly shocked the police officers who heard this!

The corruption in the Mexican Army was notorious.

In 1976, during the US-Mexico joint anti-drug operation, the United States knew that the Mexican Army was unreliable, and they didn't use them for anything particularly tough; just to hold the perimeter.

American Special Forces would go in and sweep through.

The drug traffickers would flee!

The Mexican Army on the outside blatantly took bribes, a hundred US dollars per person, and when the drug traffickers' cars ran out of fuel, they could even sell them military vehicles.

It was a complete violation of all principles!

Of course, not to say there were no soldiers who fought drugs, there were, but most were ostracized, and Victor's police force absorbed quite a few soldiers from other states who had come running.

It was simply...

Absurdity opened the door to more absurdity—it was the epitome of it.

This army was just TMD too rotten.

Compared with the drug traffickers in the Latin American region, even the criminals of Gotham City could be considered to have good public order.

If it were up to Boss Victor, it would never be like this.

"Eat up, have a good meal, there's still plenty of food," Kennedy said.

The sentry nodded and then carefully looked around, "Commander, is your Anti-Drug Force still recruiting?"

"Aren't you afraid of drug traffickers?"

"I'm afraid, but... I want to fill my stomach, and I don't know any trade other than being a soldier."

Kennedy was silent for a moment, "Don't worry; Director Victor will have arrangements for you people."

The sentry joyfully ran to scoop rice.

"We are in Mexico right now, not Africa," Kennedy stated, looking at Zolf Sherman, who pondered for a moment before responding, "This just proves the greatness of Mr. Victor."

"A path filled with hardships is bound to bring more conflict, but it will also benefit more people!"

"When the wildflowers bloom across the fields, our names need not be remembered; Mexico will remember forever!"

...

Mexico City.

It was pouring rain.

Lightning snakes were still faintly visible in the sky.

Harris stood silently in his raincoat, with about 30 jail guards standing in front of him, creating a somewhat oppressive atmosphere!

When Victor left Plateau Prison, he had a secret chat with him.

He hoped Harris could form a "Special Forces unit." Many were recruits from his old unit, and a few were new jail guards. During the political screening process, it was discovered that they held deep grudges against the drug traffickers.

Harris then pulled them into the team, and they were well-provided for, even exempt from duties such as standing guard, patrolling, and watching prisoners.

They just needed to go out at night and kill a drug trafficker!

Consider it our declaration of fidelity!

"Gentlemen!"

Harris bellowed, as the rainwater poured into his mouth, "The time has come when Mexico needs us!"

He stared into the eyes of everyone present.

"You know what we have to do. We're about to undertake actions that are destined never to be acknowledged, but... our choice is right!"

"When we succeed, the dandelions blooming across Mexico will tell our story far and wide, for a Mexico free from drugs, for the freedom of Mexico!"

"May God bless us."

Harris swallowed, "Move out!"

Thirty people jumped onto the four ambulances that had been prepared, leaving the prison in the rainy night, sounding the medical alarms as they rushed towards the Official Residence.

To avoid exposure, all the lights inside the vehicles were turned off.

If there were anyone particularly perceptive, they would surely notice something amiss, but on this rainy night, there were no pedestrians on the road, and the recent tension had kept many people indoors.

The ambulances carried them in four different directions towards the Presidential Palace.

June 13, 1990, 23:07 in the evening!

Charge!

The doors were flung open, and the armed Jail Guards launched an assault on the Official Residence!

Doesn't it resemble...

That rainy night of February 26, 1936.

Time flows on, but it seems like nothing has changed.

Bang!!

A clap of thunder.

"Ah!" Carlos jerked awake from sleep, eyes wide with sweat drenching his body, while his wife, who quickly turned on the light, comforted him by rubbing his back, "What's wrong? A nightmare?"

He didn't answer, put on his slippers, grabbed the mineral water from the table and gulped down a bottle, which finally calmed his racing heart.

But just as he had settled into a chair, a crisp gunshot rang out.

Then... frantic inquiries followed: "Who's that?"

Immediately, gunshots erupted from all directions.

This scared the daylights out of Carlos.

"Thump Thump Thump~" There was a knock at the door.

"Sir, someone is attacking the Official Residence; we must escort you out!" The guard's anxious voice came through.

Carlos, still in his pajamas, hurried to the door. He saw the guard drenched, "What's happened?"

"Unidentified armed militants are assaulting the Official Residence, many have been killed or injured, the guards at the entrance can't hold them, you must leave quickly!"

Carlos, in panic, turned to his equally petrified wife and said, "Let's go!"

"Wait a minute, wait a minute!" His wife exclaimed, opening the bottom drawer of a cabinet that contained a good amount of gold, and beside it, packets of drugs?

"Can I... Can I take another hit?"

Carlos looked at his wife's pleading eyes, then heard the gunshots drawing closer, snapped with anger and slapped her, "Do drugs! Do drugs! Is that all you can think of right now? Run, once we're out, I'll buy you more."

Drug addicts, these creatures...

Those with experience know, they can lose it when provoked.

His wife, gripped by her addiction, stumbled to her feet. The raw desire for life, for the moment, overpowered her craving for drugs, and she followed Carlos.

Several guards still stood outside, intending to protect the couple as they sought refuge, but they had overestimated the resistance of the guards outside.

Rounding the residential area, they bumped right into the advancing Jail Guards.

A firefight ensued.

"Aaah!" Carlos's wife was too busy screaming to dodge; a bullet pierced her mouth and exited through the back of her head, blowing it open!

Now... she could no longer indulge.

Carlos lay by the steps, the pouring rain soaking him to the bone.

Crash!

Another thunderous clang.

He raised his head, rain entering his eyes, and saw several figures walking towards him; in panic, he stumbled and fell into the water.

"Carlos!"

"You... it's time for your judgment!"

...