Working as a police officer in Mexico

December 1, 1991.

The global media is practically feasting.

Ukraine will announce its withdrawal from the Soviet Union today...

This is practically a heavy blow to an already crumbling union.

It's over.

Betting markets everywhere now predict it won't survive the year.

Yanks: Hehehe~

Meanwhile, the storm brewing in the small Mexican town of Petras City is equally intense. According to reports, American capitalists are all glued to their TV screens, their faces solemn.

Abandoned airport.

To avoid any issues, the Marine Fourth Army has dispatched another regiment, turning this small town of forty to fifty thousand into a place where soldiers might outnumber residents.

At the entrance, journalists are being asked to line up for inspections.

"What the hell, do we really need to be checked? Don't we have press passes?" A bespectacled German journalist muttered.

The soldier conducting the inspection wasn't one for civility. Asking them to think about service was impossible; you're lucky if you don't get struck with a baton. "If you want to come in, come in; if not, step aside and let the next person through."

The journalist from Germany's "Der Spiegel" shrunk back at the remark and quickly shut his mouth.

In Mexico, remember one rule: do what you're told, and keep your mouth shut!

Many journalists from Europe and America act boldly in Mexico, flaunting their status. Last time, one of them cursed at Victor while pointing at his nose. That fellow is likely reincarnated by now.

Even when the World News Association issued a "Red Alert" warning professionals not to enter Mexico, Victor's "explosive news" was simply too alluring.

No secrecy or hesitation—one word: go!

Score a trending piece, and doubling the year-end bonus is no problem.

So, plenty of journalists still came rushing over.

"How many media outlets showed up?" Rudendorf, holding a press release, looked up and asked backstage.

"Around 2,000, all prominent publications," his secretary said softly beside him.

The commander nodded, glanced at his watch, and was just about to speak when the phone inside the briefcase next to him rang. The secretary quickly picked it up, exchanged a few words, and handed it to him with both hands. "Sir, it's the National Palace; the General wants to speak with you."

Rudendorf stood up immediately, gesturing for others to leave the room.

"General!"

"Yes, yes, I understand. Today I'll make sure to tear off the ugly mask of the Yanks."

"Mission will be accomplished!"

Victor on the other end gave some instructions, paused for a moment, then sighed deeply as if speaking from the heart, "From today on, our enemy is no longer drug traffickers, but malevolent organizations controlling the world's power and wealth."

"They are more fearsome, more brutal than anyone else."

"General!"

Rudendorf took a deep breath, "The Army's 250,000 soldiers are ready at arms. If you command, we'll level even Huangshan Park."

Victor was shaken upon hearing this, "Alright, from this moment on, declare war against those Rats hiding in the darkness!"

After hanging up, Rudendorf felt an overwhelming pressure on his shoulders. He gazed into the distance; the sunlight was blinding, while the looming darkness churned in fear.

In the National Palace, Victor lit a cigarette for himself, squinting at a piece on his computer titled "A Mother's Account."

"I come from a very remote village in Thailand. My parents passed away, and I grew up relying on the help of the villagers. In the entire village, there were only two truly pitiful people—me and the crazy woman at the village entrance."

"All the children hated her and bullied her; I was no exception. But one time, when I fell into the river, floundering and thinking I was going to die, she saved me."

"The person who saved me turned out to be the crazy woman. She knelt on the ground and pressed against my stomach."

"When I woke up, I ran away in fear. She just stood silently behind me, watching, without saying a word."

"Every time I returned from school, I avoided seeing her. I even skirted around her house. Later, I got into college; the whole village came to the entrance to see me off, and I saw her watching me from the far fields."

"That time, I hesitated and walked up to her, gently said thank you."

"But she didn't seem crazy at all that day. She even handed me some money, telling me to study hard. I was catching a bus then, so I didn't talk to her for long before leaving. On the bus, I saw her still standing at the village entrance, like... a mother sending her child off."

"When I returned to the village again, it was four years later. By then, I had received an offer from an internet company, but I didn't see her anymore. Upon asking the Village Head, I learned that in the second year after I left, she drowned saving a child who had fallen into the river."

"I was deeply shocked. The Village Head also told me that she hadn't always been crazy. She used to be very capable—after marrying into our village, she gave birth to four children, her life seemingly heading for happiness."

"But one day, all four of her children disappeared. She and her husband, desperate to find them, reported to the police. But Thai police—they're nothing but crap!"

"They searched for three years, crying themselves to sleep every night. Her husband was killed by a truck on his way out during one of these searches, and she completely lost her sanity afterward."

"A mother—she lost the people most important to her. The children she bore with her own life also vanished from her life..."

"I was outraged. My chest felt heavy with sorrow. I wanted to help this poor woman. But when I tried my best to uncover clues and handed the evidence over to the police, they didn't even look at it."