Working as a police officer in Mexico
Chapter 918 - 482:

This is far from over!

Felix pointed the gun at the deputy commander. The man's pupils had shrunk to the size of pinholes and hadn't even had time to speak.

Bam!

Misfire.

"Don't kill me! Don't kill me! I'll turn myself in, I confess..."

The deputy commander screamed as he shoved away the boot pressing on him and tried to make a run for it. Felix, who had been cornered against the desk, in his rage, grabbed a pen without thinking—after all, he was still a young man, impulsive and uncalculating.

He stabbed at the man's throat with all his might!

Squish...

The pen pierced through instantly, and blood sprayed out like a burst dam!

The deputy commander's eyes bulged, blood foamed at his mouth, and he fell to the floor, convulsing violently. His gasps sounded like a punctured tire, repeatedly wheezing "heh heh."

Felix found his face spattered with blood—a sticky, metallic stench.

The soldiers guarding him were visibly shaken—this was their deputy commander!

Underdog rebellion against the hierarchy was strictly taboo in the military!

Glancing at the deputy commander's lifeless, wide-eyed corpse, Felix furrowed his brow. At last, his simmering rage subsided somewhat.

He picked up the office phone and dialed Casare.

In the villa in Mexico City.

Fat Casare had just finished rolling in bed with his girlfriend, Hayler Alves. Smoking a cigarette, he was coming back to his senses.

A rare midday indulgence.

The phone on the bedside table rang. His brow arched as he grabbed the receiver. "Hello."

"Big brother."

"Felix? Hahaha, how do you have time to call now? I heard your troops are resting. When are you coming home? Victor and Feliciana miss you…"

Casare rambled on cheerfully, babbling until Felix interrupted him sharply:

"I killed someone."

"What?! What did you just say?!" Casare froze, instantly jumping to his feet. His cigarette ash fell onto his chest, stinging him enough to yelp. He leaped off the bed.

Hayler Alves stood confused and panicked beside him.

"You killed someone? Who? What the hell happened?!"

"I killed our deputy commander and an administrative staffer."

Grinding his teeth, Felix explained how the soldiers' death benefits had been embezzled—"600,000 pesos in compensation and 100,000 pesos in aid, only 150,000 pesos was left in the end!"

"If I didn't kill him, every time I closed my eyes, I'd see my fallen brothers complaining to me in anguish—it's like they're killing me!"

"Brother, this country was defended with the lives of thousands of warriors, but now these corrupt officials are corroding it from the inside. Killing them isn't just justified—it's necessary to quell the anger of the people!"

Casare was stunned by the revelation.

"You've got some nerve!"

"Damn right to kill them! You did what had to be done. Don't worry, I'll handle it with the big boss!"

His gaze turned harsh. "If those bastards want to play nasty, then you make this bigger, stir things up—take your men and smash up the local military administration. Let's see who dares intervene!"

For someone as bold as Felix, the idea of flipping the system upside down sounded almost reckless.

"Big brother, but… If we surround a government agency, the stakes change. Others might accuse you of wrongdoing."

"So what!"

Casare sneered. "Felix, you must remember, as long as we safeguard the General's interests and stick with the boss, even if you piss on the ground, your piss will be cleaner than their blood!"

"Of course, you might have to make some minor sacrifices afterward. I was planning to transfer you to lead another regiment, but now probably…"

Felix grunted. "Brother, let's do it your way. If I don't blow the lid off this, I won't be a Gonzalez!"

After a few instructions, Casare hung up the phone, put on his clothes, and told Hayler Alves, "You rest. I've got matters to attend to."

"Stay safe."

Fully dressed, he kissed her on the cheek before rushing out the door. The bodyguard sitting on the couch, watching TV, looked up at the commotion.

"Get the car ready. We're going to the National Palace."

...

Thirty minutes later, in the General's office.

Casare had reported everything, watching Victor calmly puff his cigarette.

"Boss, aren't you angry?"

"Angry? I'm fucking furious. But my personal doctor told me not to let rage consume me—it's bad for my health. Instead of harming myself, I may as well send others to their graves."

Victor picked up his nearby goji berry tea, gulped it down, slammed the teacup heavily on the desk, and then said:

"Your plan's solid. Cause chaos. Let Felix stir things up to the breaking point—make waves across the entire army. Then I'll drag them out and execute them!"

Casare's worries eased immediately.

With the boss's endorsement, even if Felix faced criticism later, it wouldn't matter much—at worst, demotion, maybe a few days in disgrace. Not long after, he'd be reinstated, perhaps even land in a higher position.

Meritorious but with ties to powerful figures—

Even if he dragged the Governor of Coahuila State out and shot him, it wouldn't be a problem!

Ahem ahem...

Of course, that's just talk. Felix should have some sense, right?

"Take your time. Stay composed!"

...

"Surround it!"

"Goddammit, don't let a single mosquito escape!"

Felix leaped out from the Humvee, pointing at Monclova's City Hall as he loudly commanded. Two deployed companies, fully armed, encircled the government building.

The security guards at the front gate turned pale...

"If anyone tries to run, shoot them dead without question!"

"Yes, sir!"

Close to four hundred soldiers shouted in unison, scaring pedestrians on the streets into fleeing desperately. Coahuila State had only been liberated recently—people would instinctively run whenever they saw soldiers in uniform.

During Old Mexico's era, soldiers were no different from bandits.

Extorting tourists, kidnapping tycoons, smuggling drugs...