I was a general in South America

Military Humvees lit up their lights in the darkness, and M249 squad machine guns, armed with 5.56mm NOT rounds, charged into the cluster area like a plow sweeping through a pit.

There's no problem that a single magazine of bullets can't solve...

If there is, then fire another burst!

The drug dealers, still running amok, were like wheat in the autumn harvest; they returned to God's embrace before they even had a chance to scream in agony.

Forgiving drug dealers' crimes is a question for God to ponder.

Lucas's job was simply to send them to ascension...

Many lucky drug dealers, already missing limbs or suffering from severe burns, were finished off by machine gun fire and stopped screaming.

Tonight, the prelude to the death song has only just begun.

bang... bang...

Tap...tap...tap...

As the machine gun barrage ended, the remaining drug dealers, no longer mere targets at the firing range, began to organize counterattacks in small groups.

Sporadic gunfire could be seen from the windows of the relatively intact houses all around...

Unfortunately, my accuracy is much worse than when I was giving birth.

Ping...ping...

The bullets only left shallow bullet marks on the metal body, causing only a few sparks and no damage.

The drug dealers in the TV series are equipped with gear comparable to the US military, but in reality, they carry Smith & Wesson .38 caliber pistols and start embroidering from ten meters away.

Even drug dealers have their class.

In Colombia, a street drug dealer who can carry an old revolver that has changed hands many times is considered to be a well-known figure in the industry.

Like Browning, Beretta, submachine gun...

That's standard equipment in Medellín; at the very least, it has to be an organization like the North Valley Group.

Soon, Moreno's large force joined the main battle, and the drug traffickers, who were already in a state of disarray, were now mentally devastated.

The M4A1s carried by elite soldiers are all equipped with Picatinny rails, and the combination of night vision goggles and infrared indicators is questionable – could it be considered blasting fish in a pond?

A 30-man advance team from the regular troops searched and attacked house by house along both sides of the road, while a temporary police force was responsible for filling in any gaps.

In fact, in the South American storytelling, the quality of military personnel is severely downgraded, and South America is an important source of mercenaries for the mercenary industry.

Colombia has been embroiled in civil war since 1964. Due to the poor quality of its weapons and equipment, the long-term focus of domestic defense on suppressing anti-government armed forces, the infiltration of drugs by drug cartels, and the constraints of the political environment, the army appeared to be being outmaneuvered by various drug cartels.

In reality, as a bridgehead for the US's South American strategy, the US military has been systematically sending instructors from NATO, Israel, and other special forces to train government troops since the Red Tide incident.

The Colombian army, which normally numbers only 6.6, has been sending 1 mercenaries to regions such as the Middle East and Eastern Europe.

Among drug trafficking organizations, only the Medellín Cartel is at the forefront of the times, and Pablo prefers to hire Israeli officers at high salaries to improve the combat effectiveness of his subordinates.

Da...da...da

The drug traffickers' resistance diminished as the troops advanced, and eventually, the only sounds heard in the entire settlement were the gunfire of the rapid response team.

The machine gun on the roof of the Hummer had stopped firing, and the large group advanced in groups of three, layer by layer, to prevent drug dealers from hiding in the room and ambushing people. However, the frequency of gunfire was also decreasing.

Drug dealers aren't stupid. .38 versus 5.56, even Sylvester Stallone would have to take a whole magazine before leaving.

Under the cover of darkness, they retreated deeper into the community, trying to find a safe place to avoid being searched by the troops.

"Damn bastard."

"asshole..."

"They are butchers, executioners...!"

The drug dealers, hiding in the shadows, kept a watchful eye on the army while muttering curses under their trembling voices. But their hands, gripping guns and shaking incessantly, betrayed the fear in their hearts.

"What do we do... damn it, what are we going to do?"

The survivors who had retreated had mostly gathered in this two-story building. They wanted to leave but were afraid of encountering the searching forces, but staying would also mean they would be arrested sooner or later.

It's clear that tonight's raid wasn't intended to put them in jail.

"What's there to be afraid of? Damn it, we can just fight them to the death. We'll get caught anyway if we try to escape, so we might as well take them down with us before we die."

Among them were still some spirited Colombian men, but after glancing at the pistols in each other's hands, most of their newly mustered courage vanished.

At that moment, a drug dealer in the corner pulled a spherical object from his pocket...

"I've got an idea. We can wait until they've searched this far, then ambush them with grenades when they enter, create chaos, and steal their weapons. That way, we might still have a chance to escape."

It must be said that when faced with the threat of death, humans often unleash their potential.

The staircases in Colombian houses are very narrow, and the two-story buildings in the slums are basically like two houses stacked on top of each other.

"Go all out! Anyone who wants to live, don't cower in the back!"

Soon, the high beams shone through the windows into the small building, and the drug dealers hiding behind the wall on the second floor knew that someone was coming.

The three-person team approached the house with low footsteps. Two people leaned against the door on either side, while one person stood in front of the door, exchanging brief glances. The person in the middle kicked the door hard, and the other two quickly peeked out to cover each other.

The room was empty under the tactical hand light.

Pointing to the stairs, the three of them stood sideways in a triangular formation and carefully entered.

The sole owner of the grenade was hiding at the stairwell, intently listening to the sounds below, silently counting 3, 2, 1...

Click...

The safety catch was pulled out, making a slight popping sound.

The drug dealer immediately threw the grenade down the stairs.

"Grenade."

Thud...

Flames lit up the room, accompanied by a scream...

"At 12 o'clock in the northeast direction, on the second floor of the yellow house... there is an enemy attack."

Hearing the screams, the drug dealer who threw the grenade upstairs realized his plan might have succeeded and immediately rushed downstairs... The narrow staircase could only accommodate one person at a time, and seeing his actions, everyone crowded together.

After all, those who go downstairs first have weapons and a greater chance of escaping.

Unfortunately, the first person who wanted to eat it hadn't even finished half of it...

A beam of bright light shone on him, and the next second...

Da...da...da

The two machine guns, having locked onto their target, instantly began firing up the middle of the wall towards the second floor.

He died before he could even begin his mission. Just as he was about to turn around and climb back up, he was blocked at the stairwell by drug dealers who had been lying on the ground after hearing the gunshot.

He spread his arms and spontaneously performed a convulsive dance, rolling down the stairs in a trail of blood and bits of flesh.

Upon hearing the news, Moreno immediately signaled to the soldiers beside him, and under the cover of machine gun fire, three soldiers rushed into the house and quickly dragged the three people inside out.

The soldiers were all wearing bulletproof vests, but they were hit by a sudden grenade at close range. Although they survived, they were seriously injured...

Moreno glanced at it... thankfully it was just a steel ball, not a fragmentation grenade.

The exposed parts outside the protective gear were mangled and bloody, with beads embedded in the flesh still faintly visible.

"RPG ready, blast it!..."