Working as a police officer in Mexico

Even the so-called new generation of Jalisco had no way of dealing with them; even El Mencho had to "cooperate" with them.

But now, the Jalisco New Generation was gone, and El Mencho was dead.

The Northern Army had arrived.

The Southern Drug Dealer Alliance, which he had joined, was now ordering a retreat, abandoning Michoacán.

"We... we can't hold it anymore, brother."

Osir Cardenas's own younger brother trembled as he spoke.

"We must hold, even if it means death! Are you all afraid to die? If we die, we die here."

"We can regroup somewhere else, if we all die, there's truly nothing left," his brother continued, only to be kicked to the ground by the furious Osir.

Holding a gun in his hand, Osir Cardenas shouted, "Whoever talks of running, I'll kill them! We cannot abandon Morelia!"

Sudden gunfire erupted outside.

The shouts of the Northern Army slowly drew nearer.

On the ground, his younger brother showed a look of struggle.

Osir Cardenas fiercely kicked and punched the other relatives, forcing them out to fight a decisive battle.

"Enough!" his younger brother disengaged the safety and aimed at him, bang!

A headshot!

The leader of the Michoacán Family, eyes wide with disbelief, couldn't believe his brother had killed him!

The others who witnessed this scene also panicked.

"Don't panic! From now on, I take command of the Michoacán Family, the Northern Army can't stop us now, move, leave Morelia!"

He decisively turned and walked away.

Relatives behind him glanced at Osir Cardenas, who lay on the ground with eyes open, dead and unblinking, and hurriedly followed him.

There was no time left to run.

Morelia was now in complete disarray.

As long as you were out on the streets, bullets were unavoidable; respectable people hid inside their homes.

The siege turned into a battle for public order.

Outside in a small cabin in the suburbs, Casare had been awake for several hours, sitting just as he had said he would, for as long as the fight lasted.

"Sir, sir! Morelia has fallen!"

Just then, a soldier ran up, shouting with a tone filled with joy.

Jason Bourne looked on, smiling as well, as he turned to look at Casare.

The latter slowly rose to his feet, his legs trembling from sitting too long, smiling resolutely and said, "Send a report of victory to the Governor! Commend the Fourth Battalion!"

"Jason Bourne, find Manstein, have him restrain the troops, try to minimize civilian casualties."

Well, this "try" had a lot of leeway.

Just don't do raping and killing like the U.S. Military.

That would be too disgraceful.

Indeed, the U.S. Military even allows addicts, criminals, and many mentally disturbed individuals to join their forces. How good can their system be?

According to statistics, about 15% of sexual assaults in the U.S. military (originally found 40%, but that's too outrageous, toned it down.)

Victor cared about his reputation.

Jason Bourne acknowledged and left with his men for the frontline.

Casare looked towards the distant city, his aspirations surging, though lacking eloquence, he could only say, "Manstein rocks!"

Tijuana.

Victor also received news of the liberation of Morelia, overjoyed.

"Well done, congratulate the Fourth Battalion in my name, a week later, I'll go to Morelia to award them medals."

His secretary noted everything down.

"Order Siegmut List to continue the assault on Michoacán, clear the remaining forces."

Victor paused, "Organize the Marine Fourth Division, pull two regiments from each division, assign Rommel as the division general and Fedor von Bock as the chief of staff!"

"The headquarters of the Marine Fourth Division will be in Coahuila State."

The secretary momentarily paused but immediately recorded the order.

Rommel had jumped from battalion commander to division general of the 1st Marine Division.

Tsck, tsck, tsck...

Rocketed up the ranks.

Even high patronage is useless; you need high patrons to push you.

Victor took a puff of his cigarette, "That will be all for now."

The secretary nodded and hurried away to convey the orders.

As he left, George Smiley of the Thirteen Protectors walked in, "General, Mossad has issued a new global warrant, and we have six people on the list."

He handed over the message.

Mossad, in revenge for World War II, would periodically release bounties, many bounty hunters relied on this for a living, many German veterans from WWII had been caught and tried.

Victor looked at it, and there at the top was his name.

Victor Carlos Vieri: 45 million US dollars!

Fourth place: Casare Gonzalez: 24.56 million US dollars!

Tenth place: Kennedy (Mexican Military): 18.9 million US dollars!

Thirteenth place: Augustin Preshowitch: 9.2 million US dollars!

Thirty-second place: Jason Bourne: 3 million US dollars.

Ninety-seventh place: Cuauhtémoc: 700,000 US dollars.

Six of them in the top hundred, one might think the Northern Army was some sort of terrorist organization if they didn't know better.

And Victor's bounty in all organizations combined had broken 300 million US dollars!

A shocking figure.

Victor squinted, looking over the list, then suddenly looked up at George Smiley, "Do you like eating shredded squid?"