Alejandro pulled out his knife and sliced off the right ears of all the corpses, putting them in his pocket to take with him. This was the Mata Group's standard method of showing their enemies a message.
Siren sounds blared nearby. This was Reforma Avenue, one of Mexico City's busiest streets, next to Chapultepec Park. It was a focus of the Mexican police's efforts to maintain order.
"We should go."
Alejandro put his hood back on, got into the driver's seat, and tossed the pocket of ears onto the passenger seat. Broly leaned out, one hand gripping the van's window frame, the other holding his assault rifle, and fired at the approaching police car.
The recoil of the rifle meant almost nothing to him.
Bang! Bang, bang!
A burst of sparks erupted from the police car's engine compartment; the engine had been shot through. The police car swerved violently and crashed into the curb. The officers inside quickly stopped, abandoned the car, and fled.
Broly put away his rifle, sat back down, and closed the door, his face sour.
"You just stole four kills from me."
He had worked hard to shoot, but he didn't get any experience points.
Alejandro knew the routes of Mexico City like the back of his hand. After a few turns, the sirens were almost inaudible. He found Broly's obsession with killing a bit odd.
"Don't worry, there will be plenty more opportunities later."
Broly secured the rifle's safety, took out a magazine, and started to load bullets into it.
Their next target was the Reyes Group's drug factory, located in a hidden auto repair shop. It could produce about twenty tons of Methamphetamine a year, the largest of the Reyes Group's fifty factories. This Methamphetamine, along with high-purity drugs from Colombia, Bolivia, and Peru, was transported to Texas through border tunnels, and then sent to various states by mules.
This was a golden route, bringing the Reyes Group a wealth of cash flow. Therefore, this important repair shop was very well hidden, guarded by over eighty fully armed soldiers, with sentry posts on the outside.
"How did you find that place?" Broly asked, somewhat curiously.
"As a repair shop, its power consumption is too high, and the water consumption and sewage discharge all exceed standards. The Reyes Group thinks it's well hidden, but the CIA discovered it a long time ago," Alejandro said.
The repair shop was in a town on the outskirts of Mexico City. Mexico's infrastructure wasn't very good. After leaving the city, there were only a dozen kilometers of paved road, with the rest being dirt roads.
Dust billowed into the air, and the only thing visible outside the car windows was the endless wilderness, dotted with Tamarisk bushes.
"Be alert, our car is too conspicuous right now," Alejandro said, squinting and observing the surroundings.
Ahead on the horizon, a settlement appeared, with dilapidated buildings, roadblocks, and several Latin American men with fierce expressions standing by the side of the road.
They were all members of the Reyes Group, guarding the only route to the repair shop.
"What are you doing here?" they asked in Spanish.
"I'm a tour guide, and the guy in the back is an American. He wants to take some photos of the Mexican desert night sky," Alejandro said.
Broly didn't understand Spanish. Seeing Alejandro was talking about him, he quickly raised the DSLR Camera in his hand to indicate.
The Latin American man glanced at Broly and focused on the camera in his eyes. He licked his thick lips; the camera looked very valuable.
He said with a somewhat fierce tone, "Give me the camera, and you guys go back."
Broly didn't understand what he was saying and looked at Alejandro.
Alejandro shook his head and whistled.
The Latin American man was about to say something else, but a hand reached out from the car and grabbed his neck. His eyes bulged, and he could only manage a faint "gasp" before being strangled to death.
The few people next to him hadn't even seen what happened to their companion before they were shot down.
"Attack! Don't let them notify the people at the repair shop!"
Alejandro opened the car door, got out of the driver's seat, and used the van as cover, firing at everyone in the settlement.
Broly, fearing that he would steal all the kills, pulled out the rifle from under the seat and fired. He was using full automatic mode, his hands were like a vise, firmly holding the rifle, and the rifle didn't move at all because of the recoil.
Along with the muffled thuds of bullets piercing bodies, the unsuspecting gunmen were instantly shot down, and corpses fell to the ground.
Broly held the gun with both hands, kicked the door open, and then retreated behind the wall. A burst of gunfire erupted in the room, bullets biting into the wall and tearing away chunks of concrete. He smashed the window with an elbow and fired through the window in the direction of the gunfire, taking down the gunmen inside with a few shots.
He was responsible for clearing out the enemies inside the building, while Alejandro stood guard with his gun, preventing anyone from escaping from the settlement.
With the sound of gunfire, everyone in the entire settlement was quickly killed or wounded. They couldn't have imagined that the reason for their deaths was merely a fool wanting to steal a camera.
[Ding! Congratulations to the host for leveling up to level 4, gaining three skill points, and one attribute point]
There were about forty people in the entire settlement, contributing more than two hundred experience points to him. Combined with the experience he had gained before, Broly leveled up three times in a row, reaching level 4. However, the experience needed for each level up had doubled. Now at level 4, he needed a full four hundred experience points to level up.
According to the rules, he got one skill point for each level up and one attribute point for every three level ups. Attribute points were much more precious than skill points.
He didn't hesitate and added the attribute point to his strength. The muscles all over his body suddenly tightened, and a surge of power surged from deep within his body. He felt that his strength had increased by about a third.
This was a bit terrifying. The improvement from his consistent training during this time couldn't compare to the improvement from adding a point. And it was also possible to improve intelligence through adding points, which was very hard to train. It seemed that attribute points were even more precious than he had imagined.
"Who's there!"
Broly suddenly shouted in a low voice, and he dragged out a boy of about thirteen or fourteen years old from some tall grass. His face was full of panic, his complexion was pale, and his whole body was trembling.
He immediately knelt on the ground, about to beg for mercy.
Bang!
The boy was killed with one shot, his lifeless body slumped to the ground.
Broly put away his gun and got back in the car.
Alejandro whistled.
"You were much more decisive than I expected. I thought I'd have to help you finish him off."
Broly sat in his seat, closing his eyes to rest.
"Since he chose to pick up a gun and become a warrior, he shouldn't think about escaping by kneeling down."
Alejandro shrugged, roughly cut off a few ears, put them in his pocket, shook the pocket of ears, cleaned up the scene, picked up all the shell casings and bullets, and took away the corpse with Broly's fingerprints on it.
Although the level of the Mexican police wasn't high, he still, out of professional habit, didn't leave any clues at the scene.
He threw the pocket of ears onto the passenger seat, got in the car, and lit a cigarette, taking a long drag.
"What we're going to do next will drive the entire Reyes Group crazy."
Broly said indifferently.
"I just like making people go crazy."