Working as a police officer in Mexico

178 civilians died in this incident, six from the charity organization, and five soldiers were killed in action, the number of injured was countless!

It was like purgatory on Earth!

Upon hearing about this, Kennedy, stationed in Culiacán, flew into a rage and ordered two battalions to encircle the slums, "Search every single house!"

"Sir, I think we should lock down the entire city; treat any civilians still wandering outside as spies!" said Erich Manstein, an advisor standing by.

Kennedy believed he had potential; it was a waste for him to be just an advisor, so he pulled him by his side to act as an aide, waiting for an opportunity to give him some real-world experience.

Hearing Erich Manstein's words, Kennedy frowned with urgency, to treat them as spies, how many people would have to be killed?

His personality was highlighted at that moment, showing slight hesitation.

Erich Manstein could tell and whispered, "We can report this to Tijuana; Mr. Casare will make a decision."

Push the responsibility onto someone else!

After thinking for a moment, Kennedy resolutely agreed to the plan and reported the situation upwards.

The boss wasn't around, and Casare was already on edge; upon hearing something else happened in Culiacán, he turned as pale as a ghost, clenched his teeth, "Find those people for me!"

"The slums...are too chaotic," Kennedy said.

"Then slaughter them!" Casare took a deep breath and said viciously, "I don't believe Sanggan Dawa Village doesn't know about this."

Kennedy's heart skipped a beat and glanced at Erich Manstein, "I understand. However, I hope there can be some help with public opinion."

"Don't worry, even if you blow up the slums today, there won't be a bit of news about it!"

After hanging up the phone, Kennedy sighed, "Our second in command is harsher than anyone."

"That's why the Governor trusts him!" Erich Manstein said with a faint smile.

Casare could take the blame from above and issue decisive orders from below; who wouldn't like such a leader?

"I order full martial law in Culiacán! Send two more battalions over, and before tonight, I want to know exactly who is causing trouble!"

"Yes, Sir!"

Following the order, more than 4,000 Northern Soldiers, fierce like wolves, charged into the slums!

Bang!

The front door of the Sanggan Dawa Village head's residence was kicked open!

A dozen soldiers stormed in and, without a word, beat up the 60-year-old Village Head. His brother and son wanted to step forward but were beaten to death on the spot, leaving only a few women and children trembling on their knees.

Fedor von Bock, the staff chief of the 2nd Battalion's 4th Company, entered, a cigarette in his mouth, wearing white gloves.

This was a "unwritten rule" in the Northern Army: officers at the battalion level, holding the rank of Major, were entitled to wear white gloves, symbolizing that they were clearing the ashes for Victor ... the Governor!

"Good afternoon, Mr. Village Head. I think you know why I'm here. Who were the men this afternoon?" Fedor von Bock asked with a smile.

"I…I don't know!" the bruised and battered Village Head, with missing teeth, shook his head, "This indiscriminate killing of innocents will bring retribution upon you!"

Fedor's expression slowly hardened, "Retribution? Who will bring retribution upon me? Who the hell dares to bring retribution upon me! My God is Victor!" His voice rose sharply as he grabbed the hair of an elderly woman nearby and yanked her forward.

His left eye twitching wildly, "Are you going to talk now or not?!"

"I…I don't know!"

Fedor picked up a knife and fork from the table and stabbed them into the elderly woman's eye!

The eyeball burst out with a pop.

All sorts of fluid seeped out.

The elderly woman screamed in agony as the knife and fork stuck in her eye, causing another woman to shudder at the sight.

"I'll ask one more time! Who was it?!"

The Village Head, watching his lifelong companion gaping, seemingly having lost too much blood, closed his eyes in pain.

"I like your backbone. Bring the next one!" Fedor waved his finger, pointing at a child, "You're next!"

"Grandpa! Grandpa! I don't want this, I don't want to..." the other side screamed heart-wrenchingly.

The Village Head's eyes flew open in shock, watching his beloved grandson crying out, "Stop, stop!"

Fedor stepped forward, kicking him in the face, "You stubborn old fool, keep being tough!"

"I'll talk, I'll talk!"

"It was Guilibu Olympia; they serve the Jalisco New Generation, they did it. They all live in the neighboring Morantis Village."

Fedor looked at him deeply, slowly nodding, "Thank you!"

He turned around, raised his finger, and flicked it.

The soldiers beside him raised their guns and mowed them down!

The entire family was slaughtered!

"That's what you get for working with drug traffickers, but it makes me seem like a villain," Fedor muttered to himself, "Let's go to Morantis Village and pass the message to our brother troops."

"Yes, Sir!"

There were a total of 17 villages in the slum!

While the villagers might not be aware, there must have been issues with the Village Heads.

The sky slowly began to drizzle.

A Village Head was dragged by a motorcycle by the Northern Soldiers, while hundreds of villagers stood by, hunching their shoulders, watching in horror as the Village Head's body was skinned through the dragging.

The flesh and blood underneath were clearly visible.

"Now! Whoever provides clues about this afternoon's shooting will get 200 pesos! Their child will enjoy free education! Who knows!" A Lieutenant shouted loudly.

Free education has not yet been widespread in Sinaloa State.

200 pesos!

The right to education?!

A young woman's eyes lit up, and she timidly raised her hand.