Working as a police officer in Mexico
Chapter 870 - 464: "War, determines everything!

San Diego frontline.

The news of Reagan's assassination was being played on repeat.

The morale of the U.S. Military had plummeted to rock bottom!

Inside a bank…

Belonging to the 2nd Battalion, A Company, 1st Marine Regiment of the US Marine Corps First Division.

Their main duty was to hold the bank and guard the subway exit not far across the street, preventing Mexicans from infiltrating.

Gurgle, gurgle~

The sounds of empty stomachs filled the night, accompanied by the groans of the wounded.

"F***! F*** your mother, we need food, we need food! Bastards!"

"We've gone 27 hours without eating. Restraint? F*** me, restraint my a**!"

Suddenly, an insane roar of anger broke the silence, expressing deep discontent. The soldiers lying on the ground or dozing against the walls all opened their eyes.

They saw their company commander, Captain Antilokos Hodgson, holding a satellite phone and furiously cursing.

"Hey! Hey! Hey!"

"F*** your mother!!!"

The person on the other end abruptly hung up, and Hodgson was so furious he almost smashed the phone, but luckily, the deputy company commander beside him hurriedly stopped him.

Antilokos Hodgson's chest heaved rapidly, his eyes were bloodshot—he looked utterly… exhausted.

"The supplies… still haven't arrived?" the deputy commander asked in a low voice.

"Those godd**n bastards…"

"Reagan and the officers at the naval base were blown up. Now they're busy preparing memorial services and told me to show restraint. Said it's fine to go a few days without eating."

Antilokos Hodgson repeated their words, then laughed bitterly, hands on his hips. "Reagan! Reagan! So what if a war profiteer is dead? We still have dozens of men here, even tens of thousands on the frontlines."

The deputy commander sighed.

The faint hope that had briefly flickered among the nearby soldiers slowly extinguished. They lowered their heads in despair.

"No food to eat, no supplies, three months without pay… I say, let's just surrender!"

Someone among the soldiers muttered those words.

Instantly, the atmosphere turned bizarre and oppressive.

Everyone looked at each other.

In truth, no one had expected it, but the U.S. Military was already falling behind on pay.

And no one could have imagined that U.S. soldiers even paid rent while in service—most of them survived on allowances.

The majority of their recruits weren't so-called "kids from good families," but green card seekers, students chasing credits, and even homeless drifters off the streets.

It had truly come down to this: a few hundred bucks a month, and risking your life on top of it.

"Who said that?! Stand up!" Captain Antilokos Hodgson bellowed in fury at the remark, his voice shaking with anger.

A sergeant stood up defiantly.

His face dark and grim, he stomped over, and spit flew as he spoke: "Coming out of a soldier's mouth, those words are shameful! Mexico is invading the United States, and you're protecting your homeland!"

"Do those fat cats and big shots on Capitol Hill think of us as Americans?!"

The sergeant retorted, neck stiff, "We need food! Didn't you just say it? Those people are busy with a memorial service. But what about us? What about our lives?!"

"Three months—THREE MONTHS with no pay! You want me to risk my life? Hell, selling my a** would make me more money than being a soldier! Captain Antilokos Hodgson!!"

The sergeant roared, his forehead colliding forcefully with his commander's.

The deputy commander shoved him hard, "Shut up, Alek! You're a soldier—follow orders…"

But no one anticipated the sergeant's emotional collapse. He angrily pulled back the bolt of his rifle, aiming his M16 directly at his commanding officer.

"They don't treat us like people. They're busy kissing the oligarchs' a**es—let them come to the frontlines! Nothing to eat, nothing to fight with!"

"Protect the homeland? F*** off! Enough!"

"Everyone get up! We're surrendering! I'm done! If we surrender to the Mexicans, at least we'll get something!"

Captain Antilokos Hodgson stared at the barrel of the gun, his scalp tightening. He stepped forward, eyes wide, "Come on! Shoot! Pull the trigger right here! Kill me! But I will never let you surrender! We're the 1st Marine Regiment! We have our honor, and I won't allow anyone to be a trai—"

Before he could finish, the sergeant pulled the trigger. Rat-a-tat-tat-tat-tat…

At close range, he emptied a magazine, killing both the captain and the deputy commander on the spot!

"F*** you, wannabes!"

The sergeant's eyes were bloodshot. He turned to the other soldiers, looking like a raging bull.

The others were stunned into silence by his actions.

Rebellion against authority!

In the U.S. Military… incredibly rare.

That sort of thing was more of a Japanese concept.

"Anyone who wants to surrender, follow me. If you don't, then leave. The United States? Ha! If we die here, they'll probably embezzle our death benefits too! I'm done with this useless resistance."

"Anyone coming? If yes, follow me!"

After he finished speaking, he walked away without looking back. The remaining soldiers exchanged glances. In the end, a dozen hesitated before following him.

They didn't want to die.

They couldn't die…

Hell, their student loans weren't even paid off yet.

Stepping out of the bank, the sergeant raised his rifle and shouted loudly:

"I SURRENDER!"

This shout drew the attention of both U.S. and Mexican soldiers, hiding in nearby buildings.

Under the moonlight, everything seemed eerily peaceful.

Some U.S. soldiers who witnessed this turned pale.

"Shoot him! Shoot that traitor dead!" one officer yelled, his voice trembling with fear.

Surrender was absolutely unacceptable—it would trigger a chain reaction.

But the soldiers… didn't move.

That officer's face turned ashen.

It was over!

The San Diego Defense Line…

Was about to collapse!

...