Working as a police officer in Mexico

Chen Hujiao furrowed his brow, "Ah Huan."

"I'm terrified of poverty, Brother Ju! As a kid, I shared a pair of pants with my brothers. When I grew up, I joined the army. After getting out, I achieved nothing. It's not easy for a man to find the right direction in life. I feel that being a soldier and eating the army's grain is what suits me."

Ye Jihuan laughed, "Mother Ancestor bless!"

Truly scared of poverty, who hasn't suffered in their childhood? People always talk about cherishing the present by remembering past hardships, but who actually wants to reminisce about the hard times?

If you're poor, you consider change; if you change, you'll understand; if you understand, you'll succeed!

Isn't it just selling your life? Whom you sell it to doesn't matter!

Seeing him so determined, Chen Hujiao sighed, patted Ye Jihuan on the shoulder, and said nothing more to dissuade him. Soldiers are a stubborn lot.

"Brother Huan, I want to go too!" Zhang Ziqiang teetered on the edge.

"Fuck off, can you even fight?" Chen Hujiao glared at him, slapping the back of his head, "You go study, I'll send you to school in a bit, to study! Study is the only way out!"

Ye Jihuan touched Zhang Ziqiang's bowed head, "Once I get my footing, once I become an officer, I'll bring you in. But you still have to study. You can become a high-ranking official through studying. Victor is rebuilding order and he's definitely short of people. You work hard, then even in Mexico we can honor our ancestors."

The latter then nodded slightly.

Actually, Ye Jihuan did have other ideas. He'd heard that many of his comrades-in-arms who were demobilized with him were not faring well, completely unable to adapt to civilian life, and many had gone down a road of no return.

A Makarov pistol, intimidating others.

No one dares to stick out their head. It may look cool, but it's not the right path, and sooner or later it will lead to an untimely death.

If he could make something of himself in the "Northern Mexican Army," then he'd definitely call over those old comrades.

Fighting drug traffickers while making money...

Ye Jihuan's ambition grew in that moment.

…

Drug traffickers in Mazatlan crumbled before the "Northern Army."

The troops behind them chased them all the way to the border between Sinaloa State and Jalisco State, where a river about 40 meters long lay across their path, with the deepest part reaching almost three meters!

"We surrender! We surrender!" A drug trafficker turned and knelt on the ground, banging his head vigorously and crying out, with his forehead bleeding from the impact.

But the TPz-1 armored vehicle didn't care about him; its frontal spikes knocked the drug trafficker down, and its 14×20 radial tires rolled right over him. Screaming, the man desperately tried to crawl backward.

"Step on the gas! Step on the gas!" the tank commander inside the armored vehicle exclaimed, and the driver floored it. The Mercedes-Benz-produced OM402A engine roared loudly, accelerating once again.

The power and speed could reach: 235 kW/2500 rpm/minute!

No matter how fast you crawl on the ground, even with five legs, it's too late. The tire pressed right onto his ankle and then bore down heavily.

Crack~

Accompanied by screams, the 14.2-ton behemoth flattened the man into a "pancake," leaving a muddled mess of flesh that continued to churn on the ground...

"Run!"

Seeing the Northern Army intent on wiping them out, the drug traffickers cried and ran towards the river. Those who couldn't swim would only drown, and those who could sprawled out frantically towards the other side.

The TPz-1 could cross water, but there was no need.

The Wildcat dual 30mm self-propelled anti-aircraft gun was leveled, and with the TPz-1, there were several models to choose from—if you were bold enough, you could even deploy an anti-aircraft missile here with no issue.

Thud~

The cover of the anti-aircraft gun was spat out.

Then it began to bombard the fleeing drug traffickers on the river surface!

A principle was proven.

Not hitting the enemy isn't because your shooting is bad, it's because there aren't enough enemies. Look, the self-propelled gun on the TPz-1 armored vehicle just swept through them.

Tsk, tsk, tsk!

What a thrill!

You could see hundreds of drug traffickers falling on the river. Once hit by bullets, they were pretty much beyond saving. Blood instantly dyed the river red, and the bodies with their severed limbs and arms floated on the river.

But there were also "survivors." When the shooting started, some had already dived into the water, quickly making their way diagonally to the other side, reaching the opposite bank in one go, lying there and gasping for air.

The drug trafficker didn't seem old, around his early twenties. He looked back at the pile of bodies accumulating on the river, his pupils contracted, and he couldn't help but burst into uncontrollable tears.

Even the drug traffickers were crying!

How tragic!

The Northern Army are demons, all demons!

He fumbled hastily on the pebbly riverbank, crawling like...a wriggling maggot. Explore stories on My Virtual Library Empire

And the pursuing soldiers on the other side of the river were laughing, and several lifted their guns to aim.

Pop~

The bullet hit a stone nearby, startling the drug trafficker into a quiver. Snot and tears mixed as he clawed at his face, babbling incomprehensibly.

"Stop playing, just kill him!" the leading Lieutenant ordered.

The tank commander inside the TPz-1 responded, indicating to level the self-propelled gun and was about to fire when he suddenly heard a buzzing of electricity in his headset. Then, an agitated voice from an observer inside the vehicle, "A rocket launcher!!!"

Whoosh~!!!

An RPG flew over the drug trafficker's head and struck the TPz-1 head-on, instantly blowing the self-propelled gun into the air, smoking the vehicle.

The anti-drug soldiers standing nearby were also swept up in the blast.

Dozens of armed individuals emerged from the woods and opened fire across the river, bullets flying wildly...

This sudden "ambush" caused some disarray among the Northern Army. The leading Lieutenant took a bullet in the arm and dove behind a rock, pressing down on his communicator, "Support! Call for air support!"

"Retreat! Retreat! Don't get entangled, go!" shouted a drug trafficker from the other side, waving his hand, retreating quickly and slickly.