Working as a police officer in Mexico

Their bodies were charred...

Unrecognizable...

A crow squawked menacingly from a tree branch, its cold eyes sweeping over the surrounding corpses as it screeched.

Suddenly, it swooped down, tore off a piece of flesh, and flew away.

They were all... all burned to death!

This was an armed force of drug traffickers numbering over 2000!

Of course, this wasn't a solo act; the front-line Commander, Kennedy, had issued the order to "kill the enemy forces by any means necessary."

As a drug trafficker daring to come out as reinforcements, without the worry of civilian casualties, of course, they'd throw everything they've got at you.

Guerrero State.

Queretaro City.

Only 220 kilometers from Mexico City.

When Brigadier General Jeffrey Olson, the top advisor for the Southern drug traffickers, received the news, his hands trembled.

"They're all… all dead?!!"

"The intelligence from The Pentagon showed this scene through surveillance satellites," his aide said solemnly.

"According to The Pentagon's calculations and tests, the Northern Army must have used solid burning bombs."

Brigadier General Jeffrey Olson looked at the photos in his hand, felt nauseous, tossed them aside, took a deep breath, and lit a cigarette to ease his stomach discomfort.

"General, I think we can't hold Morelia anymore."

Brigadier General Jeffrey Olson slammed the table angrily, unwilling to give in, "Are we supposed to just compromise every time the Northern Army throws heavy weapons at us? What are we fighting for, just surrender already!"

"The drug traffickers' weapons are not on the same level," his aide shook his head.

"What about Gustavo?" Brigadier General Jeffrey Olson asked about the nominal leader of the Southern drug traffickers.

Speaking of him, the aide became very dissatisfied, "He doesn't act like a leader at all, only busy chasing women, planning to have sons while surrounded by women every day."

Since Victor had killed his illegitimate son, Gustavo, the leader of the "Theological Army," had lost his vigor and spent his days indulging in women, waking up to play and going to sleep the same way.

It seems he's still deeply obsessed with having a son.

How come?

You think Victor didn't kill enough, so you want to have another for him to kill?

With a grim expression, Brigadier General Jeffrey Olson picked up a whip from the table, "Let's go!"

He stormed off with his men toward Gustavo's so-called "Official Residence."

Inside a mansion in the city...

When Brigadier General Jeffrey Olson arrived with his men, he was staggered by the scene inside.

In the swimming pool...

There were seven or eight female corpses floating naked, the water stained red!

They appeared to have been severely abused before death, and their bodies had swollen from being in the water for so long. They were attracting mosquitoes.

Gustavo, reeking of alcohol with a flush on his face, lay on the ground next to the pool, snoring loudly.

"F***! F***!!"

Brigadier General Jeffrey Olson's face turned steely, and the soldiers behind him couldn't help but vomit.

He took a deep breath and turned to leave.

"Let's dump him and replace him," he stated decisively.

A dog gone bad, just replace it!

As for the discarded?

Send him to trial!

Leaving the villa, Brigadier General Jeffrey Olson tried to calm the rage in his chest; he felt both pity for the women and a great deal of contempt for Gustavo, who had completely let himself go.

Dammit!

The Pentagon had invested a lot in him.

"Let's give up Morelia."

Waiting for the aide to get into the car, he suddenly spoke, "We can't hold it."

"I'm going to request more military support from The Pentagon; we have some old equipment in the warehouse we can't use—it's not suitable for us, but it is for the Southern Army. I'll talk to Elvis Salinas about having them finance the purchase."

Elvis Salinas, the nominal Southern President.

He had once served in the United States and was considered a part of the U.S. military as well as a puppet supported by the United States!

As for Gustavo?

It was mostly because of his significant influence, but now, even if you were Jesus, you'd have to die. Too incompetent!

The aide whispered, "Raytheon Company hopes to sell a batch of weapons."

Brigadier General Jeffrey Olson nodded expressionlessly, "Let them send someone."

Raytheon Company is one of the American defense contractors, with many products ranging from communication equipment and semiconductors to infrared-tracking missiles like AGM-65 Maverick, MIM-104 Patriot, and AIM-9 Sidewinder missiles.

In the manufacturing process, some defective products occur, and the U.S. Military also returns some weapons.

However, you have to destroy whatever you take back yourself, which genuinely costs in terms of manpower, resources, and time, so they sell them through "third-party channels" to others.

Like terrorist organizations in the Middle East, military warlords in Africa, and guerrilla squads in Western Asia.

And naturally, as an advisor, Brigadier General Jeffrey Olson also had a "side job," selling some stuff for defense contractors and getting commissions.

Not even going through The Pentagon's books.

Everyone can make some extra cash, why not?

It's all business, what do you think?

People like Victor, who don't fight narcotics for money, simply have a screw loose!

The Yanks detested him.

Hearing Brigadier General Jeffrey Olson agree, the aide sighed in relief, smiled, and nodded.

If there's money to be made, that's good!

...

"What? Retreat!" Osir Cardenas roared, grabbing a subordinate in front of him, his eyes red with fury.

As the family head of the Michoacan state.

They had been rooted in this land for a long time; unlike other groups, their criminal structure consisted of family, relatives, and friends, making them extraordinarily united.