Working as a police officer in Mexico

After Carlos took power, the Cabinet, to prevent any such "treasonous" acts from happening again, tightly clutched to power, letting all kinds of monsters and demons in.

The combat prowess had naturally declined a lot compared to several decades ago.

But it still held up!

"Mexicans have parachuted in!" the adjutant said solemnly within the command post, "Numbers are unclear, but shouldn't be many, there are armored vehicles too, advancing quickly."

"Fire flares, they like to hide, let's expose them; I don't believe Mexicans are tigers with wings that can fly over here," the legion commander swallowed his saliva.

After all, he graduated from a regular Military Academy, he wasn't an idiot.

"Commander, I think the Mexicans can't possibly be that stupid, they must definitely have other support forces."

"You mean from the sea?"

The commander's expression hardened and his brow twitched, "Request a naval blockade from the patrolling warships, and have we made contact with the aircraft carrier group?"

"No...not yet, I checked with the mainland, and they told us to wait for news, but... I always have an ominous premonition," the adjutant said with a darkened face.

They were on the island, and there were few channels over the Pacific Ocean; it was all too simple to keep them out of the loop.

If the soldiers on the Revillagigedo Archipelago found out, what then!

Hearing the adjutant's words, the commander inhaled sharply, his breathing becoming slightly rapid, and he pulled out an inhaler from his pocket and started spraying vigorously into his mouth, the adjutant hurriedly helped him sit down.

"It's nothing, just an asthma attack."

The adjutant didn't make a sound; did he not know whether it was asthma or not?

It was drug abuse!

The guy just got damned addicted.

That spray was the latest drug from the Colombian Medellin Company, containing ketamine.

A superior officer was getting high!

And the highest commander of the Spanish Foreign Legion turned out to be a junkie.

Alas...

This "unsinkable aircraft carrier," this "kingdom on the sea," if it wanted to regain its former glory, it would have to wait at least a few more centuries.

"Keep calling, we must find out the exact location of the aircraft carrier."

"Understood!"

On the backside of San Benedicto Island, four or five figures were running in the dark, unluckily falling into the nearby sea and expending a lot of effort to climb back out.

Unable to distinguish east from west, south from north, they could only move towards the sound of gunfire.

Happened to be led by Zorff Sherman, who had patted Lieutenant Engels on the shoulder, as his was the highest rank.

"Wait!"

He was leading, gun in hand, when suddenly, he stopped, signaling everyone to halt, remaining watchful of their surroundings; their night vision goggles were no longer functioning, leaving them blind.

Engels, feeling his way around a large tree, suddenly!

He saw a face appear in front of him, the two so close they could feel each other's breath.

Bang!

"Spaniards!!!"

"Mexican mongrels!!!"

No one knew who had coordinated the shout.

Engels felt someone yanking his gun fiercely, and then their head came ramming forward, bumping him several steps back, but he instinctively grabbed the other's clothing, dragging both to the ground.

Ignoring the pain in his chest, they brawled!

But obviously, the Spaniard was stronger, wrapping his hand backward around Engels' neck, squeezing tightly, intent on strangling him.

The latter, clenching his fist, hammered at the Spaniard's ribs!

The sheer pain forced him to let go.

Engels pounced, jabbing his fingers everywhere like a scuffling woman, his teeth tearing into flesh, blood mingling with mud and dirt in his nose.

The two tumbled until, not being careful, they fell into a pit, both dizzy from the fall, Engels felt like he was falling apart, but still endured the pain and groped for a rock on the ground, smashing it toward the other's head.

Thud! A crisp sound of a skull.

Kennedy's couldn't have been this loud.

"Aaah!!" The other one became vicious too, terror of death turning to anger, he as well grabbed a rock to smash onto Engels' head, but he had a steel helmet…

Within minutes, the enormous drain on their stamina had them both gasping for air.

As Engels raised his hand harshly and brought it smashing down!

The body of the other stiffened then collapsed heavily to the ground.

Engels too collapsed powerless beside the Spaniard, gasping heavily. Stay tuned to My Virtual Library Empire

Whoosh~

Whoosh~

Sounds pierced the air!

The sky was brightly lit.

Engels, bruised and battered, his face covered in grime and blood, had lost several teeth.

"The sky...it's beautiful."

"Lieutenant! Lieutenant!" Those Mexican soldiers had also dealt with the others and were frantically shouting from above.

"Don't shout, I...I'm not dead yet, just need to rest, just rest," Engels replied weakly.

Hearing his voice, the soldiers above breathed a sigh of relief.

It's comforting to have an officer with them.

Otherwise, the regular troops wouldn't know where to run.

After resting for more than ten minutes, his strength started to return, as young men do recover quickly.

"Lieutenant, there seems to be an enemy machine gun position up ahead."

Engels wiped the corner of his mouth, "Let's go! Time to take them out!"

...