Working as a police officer in Mexico
Chapter 855 - 459: Civil Officials Are Not Reluctant to Spend Money, Military Officers Are Not Afraid to Die!

January 22nd, 9 PM.

The United Nations spokesperson sternly accused dozens of media outlets, saying, "The actions of the Mexican delegation have gravely defiled this sacred place. We have decided to revoke their United Nations seat and expel them from the country by 10 AM on the 23rd!"

"We also strongly warn Mexico not to turn North America into a land of war!"

"If war breaks out, Victor and his associates will immediately be listed as war criminals and globally wanted!"

The spokesperson grimly read out the warning and walked away with a sullen face, completely ignoring the calls of the reporters below.

This was unprecedented. No action like "expulsion" had ever been taken by the United Nations before.

At 9:30 PM during the press conference, the Security Council convened an emergency closed-door meeting.

No one knew what happened inside, but when the meeting concluded, the United States representative stepped out looking grief-stricken, as if they had just lost their father.

"Mr. Ward, was this meeting about the actions of Mexican mercenaries?" a female reporter rushed up, thrusting her microphone forward.

Before she could finish, someone behind her gave a hard pull, yanking her down. The reporters behind her quickly filled the gap.

The security personnel on the side grew tense and promptly shielded the United States representative.

This was the deputy head of the delegation. The original head had been injured during a scuffle earlier that morning…

"Mr. Ward, is there a new round of serious conflict between the US and Mexico? Mexico has already begun mobilizing troops along the border; is there still a chance for peace?"

Perhaps annoyed by the noise, Ward stopped mid-step, furrowing his brows behind three-centimeter-thick glasses that glinted with irritation, "Victor-led Mexico is undoubtedly evil…"

Before he could finish his words, a journalist suddenly hurled their microphone at him, striking his nose.

"Ow!!!"

With a scream, Ward clutched his nose and shouted, "F***!!"

He was furious...

He was furious...

"The United States is the real evil! F*** you, Ward! Your whole family are a bunch of rotten bastards! Your mom will definitely get raped, and your daughter will definitely be made into red-shoe leather shoes!"

Security personnel rushed forward to pin the young journalist to the floor; his glasses fell off.

But he kept shouting, "Long live the great Victor!"

Ward, already fueled by rage from the earlier closed-door meeting, recalled the voting results on military intervention from the Security Council—4 to 1, and it was painfully clear who the dissenter was.

He had slapped the table and loudly demanded to know why there was opposition.

One representative had replied dryly, "Stop yelling, or you'll bring trouble to your mother."

But Ward knew that the meeting was futile. Regardless of opposition, the United States was determined to act against Mexico.

Big Bear, inheritor of the Soviet Union, might refrain from deploying troops, but others had agreed to lend their support in the conflict.

Now, hit by a microphone, he flew into a rage. Pushing aside the security personnel, he kicked the journalist in the head in front of the gathered crowd.

Gasps broke out among the audience!

The surrounding reporters quickly recorded the entire scene.

This was a massive scoop!

A delegation member attacking a protester!

Reporters, as a collective force, are like a double-edged sword—skillfully wield them and your enemies suffer; misuse them, and they'll strike you down.

"Sir, please calm down, please calm down!" The security personnel hurried to pull him away.

Ward, realizing his inappropriate behavior, quickly covered his face in embarrassment, saying, "Hand him over to the police!"

Then he fled in disgrace.

Behind him, reporters captured every ounce of his fear-stricken expression on camera.

At the same time, in Brussels, Belgium…

The NATO spokesperson delivered an impassioned speech, condemning Victor's atrocities and Mexico's regressive actions.

The statement declared, "A threat to the United States is a threat to Europe. NATO will absolutely not stand idly by!"

Their words carried undeniable gravity.

NATO had clearly decided to get involved.

In response to these wolves and tigers, the Mexican Government posted just two words on its official website:

Freedom!

It seemed to be their indirect reply.

The air over North America was thick with the smell of gunpowder.

…

Baja California State. On the Los Cabos highway.

Pulsing police lights from a Hummer echoed through the night, accompanied by loudspeakers blaring, "All personnel and vehicles pull over to the side! Please cooperate!"

In a gray dump truck, the driver casually puffed on a cigarette, seeing the scene through his rearview mirror and hearing the instructions.

But he didn't react.

Ignoring traffic regulations was standard practice for dump truck drivers.

He hummed a little tune, pretending not to notice.

The Hummer sped up and pulled alongside him, yelling loudly, "All personnel and vehicles pull over to the side! Please cooperate!"

The officers in the back of the Hummer rolled down the window and shouted.

Seeing the driver remain unresponsive, they pulled out a pistol and fired at the rearview mirror!

Bang!

The driver flinched in shock, his eyes widening. "What the hell?!"

Open fire?

Did traffic violations warrant being shot?

Swallowing nervously, he reluctantly pulled over. As soon as he stepped out of the vehicle, the police pinned him to the ground.

"Why didn't you stop?"

"I... I didn't hear!"

"Didn't hear?"

The lead officer glared darkly, "Take him away. Which company is this? Have your supervisor come and pick you up."

Upon hearing this, the driver looked defeated, his head drooping in despair.

Meanwhile, the sedan drivers obediently pulled to the side, though puzzled by the sudden traffic control measures.

Buzz, buzz, buzz...

Suddenly, the sound of deep engine rumbling filled the air.

"Daddy, look over there!" A child called out to his father, excitedly patting his shoulder and pointing outside.

"What?"

The father looked outside in confusion and saw a green troop transport truck leading the way, packed with soldiers in the back.

"That's a military convoy." The father observed.

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