Reborn in 2010, the AI ​​in my mind is too powerful.

Cavalca, a rather unremarkable small town in Sonora, is not noticeable on a map of Mexico.

However, it carries far more weight in the drug war, immigration routes, and modern Mexican history than it is famous.

The town's full name is Hero Kavorka, and it also has the nickname "Pearl of the Desert."

The hero in this name bears witness to the absurd history of this town.

During the Mexican Reformation War of 1857, Sonora's ambitious leader Pesquera rebelled against the federal government and invited American adventurer Henry Crabbe to settle there with his men to help fight the war.

However, by the time Harry and his party arrived, Peskel had already defeated the federal army and taken control of the entire state.

Normally, Crabbe and his group could simply continue settling down.

However, Americans did not have a good reputation in Mexico at the time, and Peskelah did not want to fulfill the promised rewards, such as land and settlement rights.

In fact, Peskel may have been deceiving people from the beginning; he just wanted people to fight for him. If these armed Americans were to take root, they could potentially affect Peskel's rule.

So Peskel decisively chose to betray them. He ordered an attack on the Americans, losing more than 200 of his own men, but finally defeated 80 Americans. In the end, they left no survivors, and all 55 captured Americans were executed.

Crabbe fared even worse; after being beheaded, his head was paraded through the streets of Sonora.

They publicized this victory of ambushing their allies as a victory against a foreign enemy, claiming that they had withstood the so-called Crabbe Expedition, and even added the word "hero" to the name of the town.

Pesquera later served as governor for many years and even became a Mexican hero, while Crabbe, whom he invited, used, and massacred, was characterized as an unfortunate aggressor.

Of course, those ancient stories are not the reason why this place is famous.

This is the starting point of the Devil's Highway, a roughly 250-mile road that runs north through the Sonora Desert to Yuma, Arizona, 130 of which have no permanent water source.

During the gold rush, countless people died on this road, and even today, many graves marked with crosses can be seen along the way.

Due to its advantageous location, two important industries have naturally developed here.

One is an immigration corridor, as it serves as a transit hub for crossing the Sonora Desert into Arizona, where a large number of smugglers have long been operating to help Mexicans illegally cross the border.

The Red Cross even needs to set up a special station here to help search for the remains of the defeated in the desert.

The second is the notorious drug trafficking business, which involves smuggling drugs into the United States. Obviously, transporting drugs is more profitable than transporting people.

Countless drugs of all kinds pass through here and flow to the United States. Arms trafficking, kidnapping, and money laundering have also flourished here.

In such cities, Catholicism still enjoys considerable appeal.

After all, the city itself was founded by the church in 1688, and is essentially a Catholic city.

But reasoning with drug dealers is obviously futile, and the church cannot protect citizens oppressed by gangs. In places where military and police are frequently ambushed and massacred, even priests are helpless.

After all, they are also afraid of death. In other states, there have been priests who tried to intervene in gang operations and speak out for the underclass, but the gangs still killed them without hesitation and even desecrated their corpses in protest.

But now, all of Kavorka's gangsters are dead!

Last time, Aurora sent people directly to kill this small town of 70,000 people, reducing it to 67,000.

The priest has regained sufficient mobilization power. For example, now that the aurora has directly occupied the city hall, Father Nacho led the believers directly into the streets.

As they walked from the church to the city hall, the robots at the city hall entrance were already waiting.

They weren't carrying guns or swords, and they weren't even standing. Instead, they sat down around the area as if they were real people taking a break.

At this moment, an octopus-shaped humanoid walked over and said in a very mechanical voice, "It's 2 p.m. now. You can do whatever you want, but there will be a curfew after 8 p.m.

We're too lazy to govern each church individually. We've heard your church has a well-established structure here, making it easier for you to pass on this message. Why don't you go and deliver it?

By the way, my name is Nachito, and the mayor just appointed me as the head of the joint special zone. Kavorka will cooperate with Aurora to exist as an economic zone.

Kavorka's economic lifeline is agriculture, such as grapes, cotton, and wheat. We don't plan to increase production capacity. These things can be cultivated by specialists. Only if the quality is good can they be included in Aurora's supply system.

Our main purpose is to lay down black velvet. You'll like black velvet; it can generate electricity, and the mushrooms it produces can provide velvet oil, which is also a good thing.

We at Aurora are already working on miniaturizing the black velvet equipment. It's not very difficult, and everyone will need it in the future.

"Alright, I'm leaving. You can keep shouting here."

Father Nacho looked at the octopus in front of him and said angrily, "You are one of those people who give up their bodies, right? You are the kind of people we are now talking about who adjusts themselves, right? You shameless scoundrel."

How dare you, how dare you touch God's authority.

You will go to hell after you die!

"I don't want to talk to you. Call your superiors here! Where's the mayor? Where are all the administrative staff? This is Hero Kavorka! The residents here won't be intimidated by invaders!"

Father Nacho's words resonated with those behind him. Of the city's 60,000 residents, more than 20,000 followed him and began chanting various slogans.

"Get out of Mexico! You're not welcome here!"

"We are human beings! Not machines! And we don't welcome machines!"

"You are invaders! You will go to hell!"

Father Nacho stood in front of the crowd, feeling a sense of peace as he listened to the commotion behind him.

He held up a cross and began chanting slogans: "For the hero Cavallca! For Our Lady of Guadalupe! For God!"

"For the hero Cavallca! For Our Lady of Guadalupe! For God!"

"For the hero Cavallca! For Our Lady of Guadalupe! For God!"

"For the hero Cavallca! For Our Lady of Guadalupe! For God!"

The 20,000 people behind him also started chanting these three slogans, and for a moment, it seemed as if they were going to expel the Aurora Disc Player from the country today.

Natchito didn't turn around, but he still glared at the old priest with the camera behind him. He had already said that he was in charge, so asking to see his superior was just a sign of disrespect.

The city government officials were all spineless; they clearly didn't want to offend Aurora, but they also didn't want to offend the church. In the end, they left a note, leaving the city government to Aurora, and then disappeared.

Even if they didn't run away, Nachito didn't intend to pay any attention to these people chanting slogans. This was a desert town, and the air temperature was already 40 degrees Celsius at 2 pm. These people wouldn't be able to keep chanting for long before they had to go back to escape the heat.

Otherwise, a large number of people would die from heatstroke or heat exhaustion here, and Aurora wouldn't be responsible for that.

Sure enough, after only ten minutes, the crowd had run out of steam.

The humidity here is only 20-30%, not sweltering hot.

However, the combination of low humidity and high temperature causes sweat to evaporate instantly as soon as it appears, and the sweat droplets are drawn away before they even form, so people don't even realize they are sweating.

However, the body's water is constantly and quietly being lost, the nasal mucosa is gradually drying out, and the air feels like sandpaper irritating the nose when breathing.

The lips of everyone present began to peel, and licking them didn't help; eventually, they turned into cracks.

Father Nacho took a sip of water, looking at the increasingly chaotic crowd, unsure of what to do.

The people behind them were not deterred by the heatwave; the power of God sustained them. But they could not hold on for long. The heatwave gradually eroded their resolve, and people in the distance began to vie for the shade of the houses. The arguments grew louder, and neither side was willing to back down.

The sweltering heat made people irritable, and before long, the slight coolness in the shade would be enough to make people take action, and the scene would be too ugly.

Father Nacho felt he had to make a decision.

If he backs down today, he's unsure if he can rally 20,000 people to come out and support him again next time.

He knew that today was the only opportunity to do something radical.

Staring at a group of humanoid robots sitting on the ground, he thought about his future.

While the Lord is indeed holy, surely He would forgive him for considering future power issues.

In Europe, the opposition to the aurora borealis continues, although they have softened their stance on the Google issue, claiming that Google's technology does not involve consciousness but is merely an innovation in human technology.

They've even started building that electronic chapel in Google's virtual space.

However, the technology used to observe the aurora borealis was still considered unforgivable by the Church. Despite their best efforts, the Church could only exclude the aurora borealis from Europe.

Globally, the church's efforts to resist the aurora borealis have had little effect.

If he could stop the aurora here today, forcing it to retreat, he would become the first priest to successfully frustrate the aurora.

He stared at the robots carefully, but first he didn't see gun barrels, and secondly he didn't see any sharp parts like swords or knives.

In other words, perhaps Aurora doesn't want to fight either; these robots are probably just large shields.

However, there are only a few hundred robots here; I heard that most of them have gone to take over the farm.

Twenty thousand people should be able to take on a few hundred unarmed robots without much trouble, right? Charging in shouldn't be too difficult.

It's done!

Father Nacho turned around with a radiant smile. He gestured to the side, and the staff around him quickly brought out a prepared chair for him to stand on and give his speech.

When the crowd reaches 10,000, it seems boundless. A massive crowd of 20,000 is far too large for a small town like this. The small fountain square in front of the city hall simply cannot contain it, and the crowd stretches for several blocks.

The large crowd gave Father Nacho a boost of confidence, and he waved his cross and shouted loudly.

"I want to prove one thing. I want to prove that God has not left Kavorka."

He stopped and pointed to the word "Hero" engraved on the city hall.

"I want to prove today, here, that the word 'hero' is not just paint on a sign in front of the city government, but an echo of the heroic deeds we experienced in 1857!"

When the aurora developed its evil, wet, and demonic whispers, the church tried to organize but was not very successful. When I saw those cardinals weeping in Europe, I made up my mind.

If given the opportunity, I would like to dedicate my strength to the Lord.

The aurora is evil! Chen Yiran is a demon!

Now that they have directly invaded my hometown, I must consider whether this is my only chance in this life to fight back.

It is our inescapable duty to restore the glory of the hero Kavorka!

The city government staff haven't come out yet; they must be trapped inside City Hall! Let's rush in and rescue them!

This speech immediately ignited the atmosphere at the scene. Father Nacho jumped off his chair and looked at the city hall with a resolute expression.

He felt exceptionally tall at that moment, as if the legendary priests of Mexican history—Miguel Hidalgo, José Reyes Vega, José María Morelos, and Miguel Agustín Pro—were surrounded by countless angels.

Father Nacho waved the crucifix toward the city hall, and the tens of thousands of fanatical people behind him seemed like his soldiers. They passed him and, following his will, charged toward the steel structures in front of them.