Working as a police officer in Mexico

Drug traffickers saw hundreds of Anti-Drug Force soldiers densely packed together.

It was quite a shock to behold.

Just think about it, what if you saw hundreds of strong men charging at you with fierce expressions and a murderous look in their eyes? Who wouldn't cower?

It's like imagine a Komodo dragon going to India, you think one or even three isn't a problem, but what about ten or a hundred?

Endangered species!

This group of Colombian Expeditionary Force soldiers were well-versed in crawling through rainforests and shrinking from deserts at home. They had abundant combat experience and reacted quickly, picking up their weapons to fire back.

At the artillery positions behind them.

There were five D-30 type 122 mm howitzers neatly placed, and the gunners, obviously grumpy from being woken up in the middle of the night, were in a bad mood. Wearing soundproof headphones, they lifted the shells and stuffed them into the breech.

After a brief and rapid discussion.

Boom!

The shells were fired directly toward the front.

Horatio Herbert Kitchener lifted his head, his pupils constricted, but he quickly bowed his head and continued to charge forward. He hadn't run two steps before a shell fell straight from the sky, plunging directly into the ground.

His mind went blank!

He didn't even have time to pray.

But, one second, two seconds, three seconds…

A dud!!!

Horatio Herbert Kitchener's pupils dilated, surprise swiftly engulfing him. He reacted quickly, shouting excitedly, "Governor Victor is blessing us!"

"Charge! Charge! Charge!"

Damn, Mexican Boxers, huh.

But I have to say, it really boosts morale.

Actually, war is a very metaphysical thing. During World War II, there was a witch named Helen Duncan, who was sought after for her specialty to "summon spirits and obtain secrets from them." Helen was often hired for her divination services.

Probably her most famous instance was when she was asked to find the whereabouts of a young man. After the ritual, Helen claimed she had contacted the soldier's spirit, who told her he had been on board the British ship "Barham," which was torpedoed by a German submarine, and no one survived.

Upon this revelation, none was more startled than the British government. With high anti-war sentiment among the British public, the authorities' first reaction was denial, claiming the "Barham" was still fighting overseas. However, not long after, the British Army had to officially announce the sinking of the ship, exactly as the "spirit" Helen spoke with had said.

Later, around the time of the Normandy landings, to prevent her from leaking information, the government arrested Helen on charges of treason, using the Witchcraft Act of 1735 as the basis, and sentenced her to nine months in prison with no right to appeal while serving her term.

Well…

Metaphysics!

Horatio Herbert Kitchener held his gun as he slid into a trench, backhanding one drug trafficker with his rifle butt and spraying another panicking trafficker with a burst.

Suddenly, someone grabbed him from behind; he braced himself against the trench wall. The person opened his mouth, and the stench almost knocked him over.

A drug addict…

There's a certain odor in their mouths.

"Aaagh!!!" Horatio Herbert Kitchener's face turned red as he forcefully twisted his body, his bones crackling with the sound.

He delivered a knee to the vulnerable area of the man.

The pain made the other man scream wretchedly, falling to the ground convulsing.

This one, definitely broke his "eggs."

Horatio pulled out his Dagger, grabbed the man's head, and stabbed it into his neck, then twisted the sharp Dagger, which cleanly severed the head.

"Long live!!!"

Horatio Herbert Kitchener held up the head and roared in the trenches.

One after another, soldiers crossed over the trenches, charging toward the Northern Suburbs city gate!

And a war correspondent, brave as hell, recorded this scene.

Horatio Herbert Kitchener, covered in blood, was like a war god.

The headline was already thought out.

"His Excellency Victor's brave soldier!"

Meanwhile, Rommel, who was feinting an attack, suddenly realized something was wrong!

Three Mi-8's rained fire back and forth across the west side, and those drug traffickers actually began to counter-charge.

And then they broke and ran!

Rommel was shocked, but then he was ecstatic, "Charge into Culiacán! Go in!"

Who would have thought these strawberry soldiers would just bail!

Adjutant Fedor von Bock was on an "Weasel 1" infantry fighting vehicle, with three LAV-25 wheeled infantry fighting vehicles following. He calmly gave the order, "Prepare M257 smoke grenades!"

"M257 smoke grenades ready!"

"Fire!"

The LAV-25 wheeled infantry fighting vehicle launchers hissed out plumes of smoke.

Night + smoke = BUG!

The drug traffickers couldn't see a thing, so they had to retreat into the city.

The 25 mm cannons on the infantry fighting vehicles opened fire.

The muzzles were glowing!

The feint turned into a full-on assault.

As both the west side and Northern Suburbs were under fire, panic erupted within the city.

"They're breaking in! Victor's troops are breaking in, run for it!"

Many residents panicked, grabbing their belongings and fleeing with their wives and children.

Cries of children were everywhere.

As well as looters taking advantage of the chaos.

"Let's run!" the woman urged her husband, voice trembling with fear.

"Run where? And why?" the husband, bespectacled and scholarly, retorted; a photograph on the wall of him with his students revealed he was a teacher.

He patted his young child's head, who was too little to understand what war meant.

"To the south, to Mexico City. Culiacán is about to fall," the wife said, terrified. Your next read is at My Virtual Library Empire

"And what's wrong with it falling?" the husband replied, countering her statement, leaving her speechless. He continued, "The troops of the Northern Governor are regulars, the ones in Culiacán are drug traffickers!"

"But… but I heard they kill indiscriminately," the wife hesitated.