Working as a police officer in Mexico

Two U.S. soldiers observed the surroundings from the corner...

Trailing behind them were three or four news media outlets, almost all pro-American.

Pa—

The U.S. soldier running in the front suddenly heard a commotion behind him, then a series of chaotic shouting, very loud, very loud...

He turned his head and saw an Indian journalist with a red pair of underpants on his head hiding at the back like a monkey, shouting "wah wah wah" at the camera.

Covering up the voices of his peers next to him, who looked accustomed.

Ah San Ah San, World third.

Uncle Sam, I'm a bum.

He really bounced around the battlefield like a monkey, if you've got some courage, move forward, why hide at the back?

The U.S. soldiers were also visibly irritated, motioning him to quiet down.

Yet the Indians...

Still did their own thing.

Could shamelessly claim racial discrimination for public defecation, what wouldn't they do?

Still shouting loudly.

Just want to shoot him dead right now.

Buzz buzz buzz—

Suddenly, the U.S. soldier's ear twitched, he heard a faint sound, a burst of energy coursed through him, his expression turned grave; slightly turning his head, he saw an unidentified flying object roughly the size of a palm rushing toward him.

Not fast, but not slow either!

It was clearly a small plane...

With four propellers around it, exuding technological allure, once it spotted the U.S. soldiers, it deftly turned towards them.

"Quick, get down!!"

The U.S. soldier thrust a journalist aside and dove to the side, clutching his head.

The small drone went "boom", exploding mid-air, unleashing over 300 pellets inside, scattering like hidden weapons...

That Indian brother's luck ran out, his head was pierced by over a dozen steel balls, falling helplessly to the ground, eyes wide open, dead beyond dead.

The others didn't fare well either, those not instantly dying were writhing on the ground in agony, while among the two U.S. soldiers caught in the blast, one died instantly, his neck pierced by steel balls, half of his flesh gone...

The other soldier was quicker to duck, shot in the butt, but appeared sprightly, pressing the communication device on his shoulder, "Request support! Request support!"

Meanwhile, in a room 300 meters away from the explosion point.

The bearded Antilochus Davidson held a controller with a small screen on it.

Seeing the shocked expression of Bramo Ramsfield beside him, he laughed broadly, revealing large gaps between his teeth, "How about it, sir, does it not feel powerful?"

Bramo's Adam's apple bobbed, fiercely nodding.

"This is a small combat drone jointly developed by our Information Warfare Unit Research Institute and the Mexico Defense Science and Technology University, capable of radiating up to 350 meters, perfectly suited for reconnaissance, demolition, and assault tasks in urban warfare."

"Did you see just now? That was our FVP1 model drone, equipped with 300 pellets, and FVP2 model, we plan to load it with hydrogen sulfide or vinyl chloride, creating deadly toxins upon explosion, quickly wiping out enemies in sealed spaces like houses."

Antilochus Davidson proudly explained, not noticing Bramo's expression stiffening.

The advisers sent to assist looked uncomfortable and somewhat awkward.

Those military science folks...

Truly filthy indeed.

Like the Butterfly Mine, targeting the lower regions of people.

Trying to turn brothers into sisters, aren't you?

These tactics are utterly inhumane.

"Rest assured Mr. Bramo, we've provided you with 300 drones, and the Information Warfare Unit has specifically dispatched a team of six operators to assist, rest assured."

Basically using Rockford as a testing ground.

No great technology in small drones, but adapting to battlefield conditions is extremely crucial.

A single electromagnetic pulse weapon could paralyze them entirely.

Yet those capable of mastering this technology... are few!

After discovering electromagnetic pulses, the United States once demanded it not be used globally as a weapon, but during the Gulf War in 1991, the U.S. successfully paralyzed Iraq's air defense system using Tomahawk cruise missiles with electromagnetic pulse warheads.

Upon hearing this, Bramo Ramsfield's eyes gleamed, but he nervously inquired, "Will the U.S. military master this technology?"

"Are you afraid the United States might produce it?"

Bramo nodded, considering America's industrial system, if they knew the technology, they could swiftly manufacture it.

The U.S. has plenty of industrial workers, with tens of thousands of unemployed automotive workers just around Detroit.

"Of course, it's possible, however, I believe the U.S. military won't mass-produce it..."

Antilochus Davidson spread his hands, "It's too cheap."

As he spoke, he picked up an FVP1 drone from the box, "The cost of a single drone like this is only approximately $400, with no need for any aftersales insurance or service, its price from creation to destruction remains constant, do you think the American military-industrial complex would go all out to produce it?"

"Our sponsorship of 300 drones isn't even as much as one Stinger missile..."

Bramo pondered for a moment, indeed it's the case.

It's not that large military industries can't do it but rather that they aren't interested, even if you sell one for millions of US dollars, maintaining U.S. military weapons would be more profitable.

Most importantly, who's buying for millions of US dollars; the military might be on your side to swindle money, but your approach is too blatant, there would surely be internal objections within Congress.