The anti-American vanguard starts in Mexico!

If you opened your eyes and saw $500 million in front of you, surrounded by corpses, what would you do?

Qi Yun is facing such a problem right now.

He sat on the ground, breathing heavily, his brain not yet fully activated.

The pungent smell of blood filled the nostrils, and as far as the eye could see, there was a pile of dusty gasoline drums, with several corpses lying haphazardly beside them, each holding a weapon.

Those were MP5 submachine guns and Glock 19 pistols, which Qi Yun was very familiar with.

Blood was everywhere, and five black briefcases lay quietly in the pool of blood.

One of them was open, with bundles of hundred-dollar bills stacked neatly like bricks.

One million? Maybe more.

"What's going on?"

"Hiss~"

Qi Yun's temples throbbed, and his consciousness felt like a piece of broken glass forcibly pieced together, fragmented and chaotic.

A memory that didn't belong to him exploded in his mind.

2010...Mexico...police?

After a long while, Qi Yun wiped his face, feeling somewhat sad, or more precisely, feeling sorry for himself.

In his previous life, he worked for Wagner’s foreign mercenary group for 11 months. Because of his previous military service, he earned $3000 a month.

In addition, during the attack on Donetsk, he destroyed several drones and received a considerable amount of bonuses, bringing his total account balance to nearly $5.

Now that I'm dead, what will happen to the money in my account?

I worked myself to the bone all year, but in the end, I didn't even have time to enjoy it...

However, when his gaze swept over the box of green US dollars again, he felt less sad.

Qi Yun tried to stand up by supporting himself on the ground, but found that he couldn't use his left hand at all.

A tearing pain shot through his shoulder, causing him to groan and collapse back into the pool of blood.

Looking down, he saw that his left shoulder was already soaked in blood, which was flowing down his sleeve.

He was shot.

"Oh shit!"

Qi Yun cursed and glanced at his shoulder. It wasn't a penetrating wound; the bullet was still inside his shoulder.

He grabbed the hem of his shirt and yanked it, tearing off a large strip of cloth. He then bit one end in his mouth, wrapped his right hand around his left shoulder, and tied a tight knot with his teeth and right hand.

The pressure on the wound sent another sharp pain through him, making his vision go black and cold sweat break out on his forehead.

After catching his breath, he struggled to his feet.

Looking around, the nearest body was Rodriguez, his colleague, with several bullet holes in his chest, already dead.

It is well known that being a police officer in Mexico is a high-risk profession—and I emphasize, extremely high-risk!

For example, there might be a day when there are zero deaths on the Russian-Ukrainian battlefield, but not on the Mexican police.

Every morning when I turn on the news, there will inevitably be reports about police officers who have died in the line of duty.

From this perspective alone, in Mexico, being a police officer is not much safer than being a mercenary.

However, Qi Yun didn't feel sorry for his deceased colleagues, because those guys were no better than him.

Just minutes before, two groups of drug dealers were making a transaction in this warehouse. The reason these police officers were there was not to arrest the criminals, but to take advantage of the chaos.

That's right, they're all corrupt cops!

However, on this land beneath our feet, most of the upright policemen are now lying in the cemetery.

One of the two groups of drug dealers involved in the transaction was from the local "Crippled Gang," a small gang with fewer than a hundred members.

They had been watching this group for a long time, originally planning to pull off this heist, escape to the United States through their connections at the border, and then spend $100,000 to buy an identity from the dark web to completely escape from the most dangerous country on earth.

Actually, this was a good choice. At that time, the United States had just experienced the subprime mortgage crisis, the economy was in the recovery period, inflation was not so severe, and the cost of living, such as rent and medical care, was relatively stable.

However, despite the good idea, something unexpected happened.

That's another group of drug dealers; they're also trying to double-cross each other...

They didn't bring any flour; instead, each person was equipped with an MP5 submachine gun.

The moment I saw the money, I was furious.

The five men from the crippled gang were completely defenseless and were instantly swept to the ground.

Things haven't gotten too bad yet; at worst, we just have to abandon the operation.

The problem lies with the sheriff who's in charge. This guy owes the gang a lot of money, and he has to deal with him today.

The final result was that everyone was fucking dead...

"Phew~ I have to get out of here quickly."

Qi Yun composed himself, and just as he took a step, he frowned.

The faint sound of a car engine could be heard outside.

He had a bad feeling in his heart, so he quickly went to the wall and looked out the window.

Dust billowed in the distance as three vehicles rapidly approached.

Nine times out of ten, they are drug dealers.

Qi Yun squinted, turned his head, looked again at the suitcases, and then glanced at the MP5 that had fallen to the side.

Now that you can only move one hand, should you hold a gun or money?

Only children make choices.

He took three steps at a time, picked up an MP5, clamped the gun between his legs, and habitually checked the magazine; there were still twenty bullets left.

He tucked the gun under his arm, then grabbed a box of money and ran outside.

There were two cars parked in front of the warehouse, both belonging to drug dealers. The Chevrolet Nova on the right was still running.

Without hesitation, Qi Yun threw the briefcase and MP5 into the passenger seat, gritted his teeth, climbed into the driver's seat, shifted gears, floored the accelerator, and the V8 engine roared as it surged forward.

In his rearview mirror, the three cars were about 500 meters away from him. After seeing his car, they accelerated again, and someone leaned out of the window.

The person who came was undoubtedly a drug dealer.

The warehouse is located in a slum, surrounded by abandoned self-built houses and overgrown weeds, with only a potholed dirt road leading to a federal highway a few kilometers away.

The Chevrolet sped along, bumping along. Qi Yun gripped the steering wheel tightly with one hand, the wound on his left shoulder tearing open with each bump, and blood seeped out again.

He gritted his teeth, locked the throttle, and charged forward at breakneck speed.

"Da da da—!"

Gunshots rang out, and bullets came from behind.

However, the distance was too far, and it didn't even hit the car body.

In just a short while, the highway appeared ahead, and we had to slow down and turn at the T-junction.

Qi Yun glanced at the rearview mirror again, a fierce look appearing on his face.

He deliberately slowed down, counting silently in his mind.

500m...

200m...

Despite the rear window being shattered by bullets, he remained calm.

80m...

50m...

He jerked the steering wheel and slammed on the brakes, instantly locking the rear wheels. The tires left two charred marks on the asphalt, and the car veered sideways at top speed.

Pick up the gun, aim, and fire.

"Da da da da—!"

The MP5 spat fire, and bullets shot out from the passenger window, accurately sweeping towards the car in front.

In his previous life, Qi Yun was able to survive on the front lines for so long, so he must have been quite skilled in both marksmanship and survival.

Most importantly, he never lacks courage and never backs down when it's time to fight.

An old soldier once told him, "On the battlefield, the more you cower, the more bullets will find you."

The windshield of the pickup truck behind was shattered instantly, indicating that the driver had been shot. The vehicle lost control and crashed into a large field next to it.

"+100"

Qi Yun's vision blurred, as if a number had just flashed by.

However, he had no time to think about these things at the moment, and simply assumed it was a hallucination caused by excessive blood loss.

The magazine should still have six or seven bullets left. The two cars behind were not intimidated and continued to pursue, with gun barrels already sticking out of the car windows.

"Da da da da—!"

Qi Yun fired again, emptied the magazine, and without even looking at the result, threw the gun away and then sped off without lingering for a second.

"+140"

The numbers flashed again, and Qi Yun's heart skipped a beat. He was certain this time it wasn't a hallucination.

But now is not the time to investigate further. In the rearview mirror, a modified pickup truck rushed up from the dirt road and was still in pursuit.

"Damn, that guy's got a really hard head."

He had no means of retaliating at the moment, so he could only drive forward. Fortunately, once he got onto the asphalt road, the Chevrolet's performance was fully utilized, and the other party couldn't catch up for a while.

After passing an intersection, the road ahead entered the city, and the number of vehicles on the road gradually increased. Although Qi Yun kept dodging and weaving through the streets, his speed was still forced to slow down.

If this continues, they'll be caught up sooner or later.

Mexican drug cartels have no regard for the law; these guys dare to mess with even the president, and there's no difference between the city and the suburbs in their eyes.

Qi Yun sped away while searching for a way to escape.

Finally, he looked at the box of US dollars in the passenger seat!

The next second, a shocking scene unfolded.

Countless green banknotes flew out of the window with a whoosh, fluttering in the air behind the traffic!

"Money! Money is falling from the sky!"

"My God! It's US dollars!"

A homeless man looked at the hundred-yuan bill in his bowl and excitedly made the sign of the cross: "Thank God! I can have another smoke!"

The previously orderly traffic behind them instantly descended into chaos, filled with the sounds of screeching brakes, collisions, excited shouts, and curses.

Vehicles stopped one after another, and pedestrians poured in from all directions, scrambling for the falling banknotes, completely blocking the already congested road.

.....