Working as a police officer in Mexico-Chapter 597 - 362: The General’s Son!!_2

"The drug traffickers are coming! The drug traffickers are coming!"

The child was panting heavily as he shouted.

The expression of the old farmer changed, and the faces of the villagers nearby who heard the commotion also stiffened before they began to panic and scream.

Drug traffickers!

The words 'utterly vicious' couldn't even begin to describe them.

Many drug trafficking groups would demand "ransom money" from locals; if you paid up quietly, there would be no problem, but the price they demanded was completely beyond the means of ordinary people.

So, there were those who resisted.

In Michoacán, there was a village called Texcaltitlan, where the Michoacán Family came to demand money. The villagers, who couldn't take it anymore, brawled with the drug traffickers, killing ten of them and losing four of their own.

This angered the Michoacán Family, so they sent people to abduct and execute the Village Head and his son, as well as three village police officers and dozens of villagers!

Massacres, obliteration of villages, even forcing female villagers into prostitution and children into drug trafficking were rampant.

"They will kill us! No, no, we have to go!" a man yelled in terror, screaming and running around chaotically like a fly.

Bang!

A gunshot rang out!

Everyone at the entrance of the village quieted down.

Then they saw a man with a face full of scars, half of his nose missing, and with a limp, coming forward wearing a cowboy hat and holding an M9 pistol in his hand; his voice was hoarse, clearly indicating a vocal cord injury.

"What's the panic! Everyone, enter battle mode. Cali, you lead the militia to retrieve the firearms. Kilt, you lead the elderly, weak, sick, and disabled to the caves in the back mountain. Mikasa, make calls to the surrounding towns for help!"

Those whose names were called all responded.

It was only after seeing him that the crowd calmed down, having found their pillar of strength.

Victor had implemented the "militia policy" quite some time ago; first, to provide himself with enough soldiers and to reduce the training period for rookies, and second, to let them protect themselves, especially in border areas facing drug traffickers head-on.

In this village with a population of 400, young men and women of the right age, regardless of gender, had all received military training.

Men or women, the bullets fired had the same lethal power.

They were also equipped with weapons, but of course, not too many: 30 assault rifles, one M249 machine gun, two rocket launchers, and five grenades, as well as 20,000 rounds of ammunition.

Only the Village Head had the keys, and a designated person would check every week—if the inventory didn't match up, get ready for jail.

Village Head Lebua Bogdo walked over to the villager who was yelling and screaming, his gaze chilly as he looked at the man who lowered his head, avoiding eye contact.

"What are you afraid of? It's just drug traffickers!"

"I've followed General Victor through battles far and wide. I've survived 21 battles, killing 318 drug traffickers, capturing 76 alive, and in the last fight, my entire squad was wiped out, leaving only me. I stood against a drug trafficker platoon's attack for three hours. When they dug me out of a pile of corpses, I still had a drug trafficker's ear in my mouth—pah! The flesh of those mongrels stinks!"

"The General recognized my bravery and personally awarded me this pistol." He patted the M9 pistol in his hand as he looked at the crowd.

Young Alaman's eyes were shining as he tightly clenched his fists, his whole body trembling with excitement.

"What did I see when I came to the village? Poor wretches, drug traffickers, orphans, prostitutes!"

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"And after my arrival?"

"Poor wretches had extra money in their pockets, drug traffickers were killed, orphans had books to read, prostitutes put on clothes!"

Village Head Lebua Bogdo took a deep breath, "The General has been good to us, our only choice is to fight to the death. Ladies and gentlemen, are you really going to stand by and watch your homes be destroyed again?"

"Take up arms and resist!"

"If I should fall in battle, please tell my elder brother to take care of our parents, and that I have devoted myself to General Victor—long live General Victor!!!"

His strained vocal cords emitted a deafening sound.

Young Alaman raised his little hand, "Long live General Victor!!!"

The militia members running over with their guns also shouted in unison.

"Come on, come on, Alaman, come with me."

The village official named Kilt, wearing glasses, came over and dragged the boy.

"I won't go; I want to stay and fight!"

Village Head Lebua Bogdo took an M249 machine gun from the militia, heard Alaman's words, looked at him, walked over, and patted his head.

"Village Head, I want to stay," Alaman stubbornly said, looking at his face. Suddenly, Lebua Bogdo smiled.

His face, scarred by an explosion, twisted into a 'fierce' smile. Alaman had burst into tears when he first saw him.

Now… his eyes were red.

"Little brat, I'm not dead yet. You'll have your chance to fight after you have grown. Now go, it will be your turn when we are all gone."

The village official next to him pulled him, "Yes, go on, don't delay the Village Head and the others."

Alaman pursed his lips.

Lebua Bogdo buttoned up his shirt and wiped away the tears at the corner of his eyes, "Don't cry, a man shouldn't cry!"

"Remember to eat more; you're too thin."

"A soldier of Victor's needs to be strong!"

"Get out of here."

Lebua Bogdo slapped Alaman's head, and the latter was dragged away, wailing.

He took a deep breath, "First Squad, take control of the high ground. Second Squad, hold the craters on the left side of the village entrance. Third Squad, inside the houses, proceed according to the drill plan."

"First Squad, follow me."

"Second Squad, follow me."

"Third Squad…"

The squad leaders called out, leading their people into battle positions.

…

"Officer, we have arrived at Taosi Village."

Javier Basque sat in the vehicle; a Lieutenant ran over to report.

He was the officer who convinced Federico Ferrari Orsi to massacre the village.

With triangular eyes and ample whites showing, he looked somewhat frightening.

He got out of the car and attempted to look into the distance, but being rather short at less than 160 centimeters, he certainly couldn't see clearly ahead, although he was considerably taller than the War God Tokugawa Ieyasu, as touted by the Japanese.