Working as a police officer in Mexico

Frogs croaked oddly, snakes hissed, and insects screamed.

A face that seemed to have been through the wringer lay in a muddy puddle, guzzling water with a gurgling sound, but before he could properly enjoy it, someone kicked him over.

"Don't drink! This water will kill you!" the Chief of Staff of the 61st Brigade bellowed.

"If we don't drink, we'll die of thirst," replied the man who had been knocked to the ground, lying on his back. His feeble response made the other man silent with frustration.

The Chief of Staff looked around, and all he saw were the elderly, the weak, the sick, and the disabled...

The 61st Brigade...

Only so few left, not even 100 people?!

Some had died, others had fled, and still, others had been left behind.

A wave of sadness instantly overwhelmed his brain, and he knelt on the ground, tearing at his hair and howling in despair.

Why come to the center?

Why help the Popovich Government?

Why...

Why venture deep into Coahuila State?

Where were those damned reinforcements?

Despair spread thick in the air.

Bang!

A gunshot rang out, and they saw a drug trafficker soldier curled up on the ground with a rifle stuffed in his mouth.

He just couldn't take it anymore.

This was already the sixth suicide.

Surrender?

Surrendering would be even worse!

"Bastards! Bastards!" But no one pitied the deceased; instead, someone kicked the body furiously, cursing.

That gunshot, hadn't it been heard by the pursuers?

Woof, woof, woof~

Several barks suddenly made them jump up as if their butts were on fire and they took off running.

"Chief of Staff, run, they're coming! The Northern Army is coming!" a Captain grabbed him and said.

"You guys go..."

"I won't run. I'll cover your retreat. If you make it back home, tell my children to live well for me," the Chief of Staff said, pushing him away and facing the incoming Northern Army with his gun drawn.

It looked like a grand act of heroism.

The pursuing Northern Army was clearly surprised by the sudden rush, but they recovered quickly, and one of the flamethrower soldiers moved forward and let loose at him.

Flames at over a thousand degrees instantly cooked him through.

"Ah!!!"

He ran about screaming, trying to drag someone to death with him.

But with his eyeballs melted and scalp gone, he eventually crashed into a tree and fell heavily to the ground, without even a twitch left.

"Keep chasing!" the leading Commander ordered with a wave.

The 61st Brigade... ah, no, now they should be called the remnants, all killed right here!

Outside of "China," Barry Thomas, the Colonel of the 12th Cavalry Regiment, was feeling a bit heated.

"Five days! Five days!!!"

He pounded the table with his hand, "We haven't even gotten through a small village, the death toll just keeps rising!"

The staff officers beside him all lowered their heads, not daring to make a sound.

Who knew the Northern Army was so formidable?

They also kept reinforcing from the rear, making them unbeatable.

In just five days, more than 700 had died, and over 400 were wounded. Nearly half a regiment was gone, how could they keep fighting like this.

"Those Spaniards just hide behind and watch, not helping us one bit, they haven't charged once," muttered a dissatisfied Deputy Colonel.

This complaint suddenly broke the already tense atmosphere in the room.

"Colonel, why is it just us? Are we meant to die? Are those Spaniards just here to act like lords?"

"Yeah! Colonel, the high officials of Mexico don't treat us like humans, constantly urging us, but what about the military pay? Only half a month's pay for our regiment while the 1st Brigade and other units get theirs. Don't we deserve it?"

"If you ask me, we might as well surrender to the Northern Army! We don't do drugs and we're not kin."

Barry Thomas panicked internally, "Shut up!"

He bellowed, and although the staff officers became silent, their expressions clearly showed discontent.

The 12th Cavalry Regiment belonged to the Old Mexico era, and Barry Thomas was an established Colonel. After Popovich came to power and strongly supported his own people, old hands like him found themselves in an awkward position.

This was also one of the reasons why the Chief of Staff had urged him to conserve his troop strength—if he lost these men, Popovich would have no more use for him.

"Roll! Roll back to your units!"

Barry Thomas waved his hand, and the staff officers all left, only the Chief of Staff remained. He hesitated, then spoke in a low voice, "The brothers are right."

The other man looked at him sharply. He shrank a bit, but then straightened up, "Even if you don't want me to say it, I still have to. Do you think, Popovich can defeat Victor?"

Barry Thomas fell silent.

"No matter what, a drug trafficker is a drug trafficker! We are the Regular Army, the protectors of the people. Look what we've become now, drugs everywhere. Only the Northern Government can save Mexico!"

"It's better to surrender sooner rather than to be captured!"

"You certainly don't want your name listed in Mexico's drug trafficker records after Victor's victory, do you?"

These words made Barry Thomas pause slightly; his mouth agape, "But... we've also killed quite a few of their soldiers."

"War is inevitable. Victor has grand ambitions and impressive toleration; he will surely forgive us. However, we also need to make a gesture," suggested the Chief of Staff like a shrewd advisor.

"What gesture?"

"Take out 600 Spaniards. If we kill them, won't we be okay?"

Barry Thomas hesitated; his brow furrowed with difficulty.

"Colonel, stop thinking about it. If the 61st Brigade is destroyed and the 4th Division has free hands to push into New Leon State, who do you think will suffer first? We are the closest unit!"

This shook the Colonel deeply.

"Then go contact the Northern Army and say I'm willing to surrender; ask them what they think."

"Don't worry, I'll definitely sell us for a good price!"