Working as a police officer in Mexico

"Okay."

Casare responded, and just as the two were about to leave the room, they saw Martin, the confidential secretary, knocking and entering with a phone, "Mr. Bramo."

???

Victor was taken aback; did something happen?

He quickly took the phone to speak.

On the other end, Bramo didn't have anything important to say, speaking in a slow, unhurried tone about mundane family matters, asking about Belsaria's due date.

But Victor knew it wasn't because of such trivial matters.

Sure enough, after a few exchanges, the person on the other end spoke up: "Paul Constantine Stuart called me, scolded me for not informing him about Mexico's military actions."

"He feels this abrupt tension should have been reported to him."

Victor was amused by this, "Then why didn't he come to ask me?"

"He didn't dare."

This reason couldn't really be refuted.

"So, what does he mean?"

"He believes that since the Anti-Pentagon Alliance is led by him as the leader, his opinions should be considered. He feels that Mexico's undeclared war is a trampling of the alliance."

"Does he want to kick me out?"

Bramo: "No, he hopes to hold an alliance ceremony as soon as possible. I think he's worried that you are stealing the limelight, so he won't be in the spotlight."

"Paul Constantine Stuart, when he was in school, loved to wear his red suit, red socks, and red shoes every day. He likes being the center of attention."

Bramo seemed very professional, "I think he has Histrionic Traits, sensitive to immediate feedback, and might feel anxious or disappointed if ignored."

Just like a child who doesn't get attention from parents, running around half-naked.

"What a childish kid."

Victor shook his head, but now he needed someone to take the lead, so of course, he was willing to give him some leniency, "When does he want to host it?"

"Today is the 19th; he hopes to host the alliance on June 25th, his birthday, in Austin, Texas Republic."

"So urgent? What about safety? Can he ensure it? I don't want my people to go there and then get shot."

At this, Bramo was silent, mainly because he couldn't guarantee it.

"Tell him to come to Tijuana, if not possible, go to the border's Juarez. I'll set up the stage for him if he wants to perform; Texas is too dangerous right now."

"Alright, I'll talk to him."

"Mm, give me news as soon as possible."

Victor pressed the phone and said to the dumbfounded Casare and Secretary Martin, "Paul Constantine Stuart is like a baby still breastfeeding, maybe he's wearing a diaper right now."

Casare laughed, sounding like "quack quack quack," just like Donald Duck, but actually wanted to say, "His mom doesn't have breasts."

…

At around 2 a.m. on June 19th.

After a 30-minute rest, the Army 435th Division of the 336th Army of Mexico pursued quickly!

Chasing south along Highway 1 towards Oceanside!

From the sky, there was an endless stream of vehicles clogging the highway.

A big truck tipped over in front, directly blocking the road.

This is where the criticism of the U.S. Military comes in.

Why couldn't they run for their lives?

This is far behind South Korea; people there can run from Seoul to Pyongyang on two legs, their escape skills are extraordinary.

If Major Walker didn't take a car back then, he might still be alive.

If you're fleeing, at least leave the rear units on alert, but nothing is left… everyone just runs for themselves.

Something's bound to go wrong!

Sure enough…

In the night, someone shouted on the radio:

"They're coming! The Mexicans are coming, run!"

Oh boy!

Now the whole army heard it.

In the rear, panic-stricken U.S. soldiers floored the gas pedal, veering off the road, accompanied by the urgent sound of horns and curses.

"Get out of the way! Get out of the way! Can't you see? The division's car!" A black U.S. soldier stuck his head out, shouting loudly, slapping the car, "Make way!"

But in the chaos of flight, who cares about you?

The furious black officer pulled out a pistol and fired a shot into the air.

Bang—

This "Niger," how's his brain wired?

Is it really the time to shoot?

The road's only so wide, and you fire a gun, others couldn't even stop you.

It all blew up.

The mentally strained U.S. soldiers quickly devolved into a massive collapse.

The radio channels were filled with shouts from junior officers, as for senior officers…

They'd already fled in helicopters.

Whirring—

From a distance, the thumping of rotor blades was heard, navigation lights flashing…

Three AH-64 Apache attack helicopters, from the Northern Air Force Theater, were originally tasked with pursuit, seeing the collapse, how could they let go?

A 30mm M-230E-1 chain gun below the nose was ready!

Roar—

The suspended M-789 High-Explosive Dual-Purpose projectiles are specially designed to penetrate the weaker sides and tops of light armored vehicles or main battle tanks, with a personnel casualty radius of about 5m!!

Firing ahead…

It's a massacre!

To be honest…

The Apache is the number one in the world!

Especially armed with missiles, if a tank company encounters it, they'd have no choice but to wait for death.

And there are three here!

The instant the bullets angled down, many were torn apart!

Thunk—

An unfortunate American soldier was hit right in the head and exploded immediately, those around were equally shrapneled, basically… no injured, all dead.

Pools of blood and pieces of flesh on the ground told everyone the brutal nature of war!

"No more! No more! I surrender!!"

A bespectacled fatty, with a helmet that couldn't fit, knelt on the ground, holding his gun and crying, snot running into his mouth, looking very pitiful.

Terrified piss came out…

Whoosh whoosh whoosh—

But the Apache above paid no mind, launching Sea Serpent-70 rockets and firing wildly.

One landed right next to Fatty, boom—

Nearly 200 pounds of weight was blown two meters away by the blast, spewing blood, legs gone, lips twitching, dead instantly.

The Apache squad's orders were to exhaust ammo.

After emptying dozens of shells and thousands of bullets, they left.

"Ah! Ah!! Ah!!"

A red-eyed American Major collapsed on the ground, staring at the hellish scene, "Devil! Victor is a devil!"

"Beast! He's a beast!"

The U.S. Military…

Can scream horribly too.

When waging war on other countries, they laughed and joked.

Why aren't they laughing now?

In many countries, the U.S. military committed countless crimes beyond just wartime atrocities, including rape, robbery, and murder.

Who are the ones admiring the U.S. military anyway?

Isn't that idolizing robbers?

But it's quite hypocritical, you see, now when the Apache mows them down, they blame the Mexicans.

However, it's quite a double standard; see, now that the Apaches have shattered them, they blame the Mexicans.

The American major saw the brutal battlefield and couldn't take it anymore, shoved his pistol into his mouth, bang—

The back of his head exploded open.

His body was still twitching on the ground as he looked up at the moon…

slowly closing his eyes.

And less than 2,200 beaten troops had collapsed on the field, alongside 2 reserve divisions and 1 local National Guard company, totaling over 4,500 men, but none dared to advance, or even look.

The entire city was huddled like a quail.

Some suggested going for support, but Nidhogg Francis, the commander at the front line in Oceanside, refused.

Damn!

Another connection.