126: Chapter 126 Welcome to the Meat Grinder

The Texas sun was so scorching it felt like it would melt a person's scalp.

In the dry river valley sixty kilometers south of Midland, the air distorted from the high heat.

This was the only route to Ciudad Juárez, Mexico, and the favorite highway of those cartel drug traffickers.

There were no police, no signal, only cacti and rattlesnakes.

Yellow dust kicked up in the distance, snaking along the ground like a dirt dragon.

Over twenty modified pickup trucks approached, their beds packed with armed militants waving AK-47s, deafening Spanish rap blasting from the speakers.

They thought this mission would be simple.

Burn a few oil wells, kill a few arrogant gringos, and then go back to drink tequila with the hundreds of thousands of dollars McLean gave them.

"That's the Los Zetas flag."

Lying behind the dirt slope, One-Eyed Dragon spat out the grass root in his mouth and adjusted the focus of his binoculars. "Those bastards, they dare to rush in without even setting up their machine guns."

He glanced back.

Chen Mo stood on the roof of a modified black Hummer.

Wearing tactical sunglasses, he held the M134 Minigun six-barrel machine gun he had gotten from the Priest.

The barrels hadn't spun yet, but the murderous aura already overpowered the smell of dust around them.

"These Mexicans think we're just security guards."

Jack Martin squatted next to the Hummer's tire, holding a tablet. "Boss, they've entered the pre-designated kill zone. Distance, eight hundred meters."

"Let them get closer."

Seven hundred meters, five hundred meters, three hundred meters.

In the lead Ford Raptor of the convoy, a cartel leader with a skull tattoo on his face was even flipping them off.

He probably thought this was just another gang shootout, or perhaps some suicidal militia.

Chen Mo flipped the motor preheating switch on the side of the trigger.

*Bzzzz—*

It was the hum of the motor spinning at high speed, sounding like the Grim Reaper sharpening his scythe.

"Fire."

*Thud! Thud! Thud!*

On the high ground on both sides, four 60mm mortars fired almost simultaneously with muffled thuds.

This wasn't the earth-shattering explosion seen in movies.

The shells landed in the middle of the convoy, kicking up only columns of black smoke and shredded metal.

The lead Raptor was flipped right over, and the five or six cartel members in the bed instantly became mangled flesh hanging from the cacti.

The convoy behind fell into utter chaos, a mess of screeching brakes and shouting.

"Damn it! Those are mortars! They have heavy weapons!"

Before the Spanish screams over the walkie-talkie could fade, an even more terrifying sound rang out.

*Bzzzzzzzz—!*

It was a massive noise resembling the tearing of canvas.

A rate of fire of six thousand rounds per minute made the gunshots merge into a single, continuous roar.

The M134 in Chen Mo's hands spat a two-meter-long tongue of fire.

Thick 7.62mm bullets swept into the valley like pouring water.

It wasn't shooting; it was slicing.

[Heavy firearm operation detected... Passive skill "Heavy Weapon Mastery" activated.]

[Recoil correction... Ballistic prediction correction... Suppression effect increased...]

Chen Mo's arm muscles tensed. The machine gun, weighing dozens of kilograms with a recoil that could easily knock a normal person over, was as steady in his hands as a scalpel.

Brass casings poured out of the ejection port like a waterfall, clattering continuously onto the Hummer's roof.

"Ah!!"

The valley turned into a living hell.

The bulletproof glass of the pickup trucks was like paper before the metal storm.

Bullets easily penetrated car doors and engine blocks, tearing the people hiding behind them in half.

A Chevrolet attempting to turn around and flee was locked onto by Chen Mo.

The line of fire swept across.

The fuel tank exploded with a boom, and an orange-red fireball soared into the air.

The burning wreckage rolled dozens of meters forward with momentum, crushing several drug traffickers who had jumped from the vehicle into mush.

"Flank! Old Dog, take your men and surround them!" One-Eyed Dragon roared excitedly, his M4 carbine firing in bursts. "Don't let these bastards escape!"

The veterans hired at great expense were now completely in their element, thoroughly enjoying the fight.

This wasn't a battle; it was a one-sided hunt.

They had originally thought this young Asian boss was just a wealthy second-generation heir, but they hadn't expected him to be even more brutal with a heavy machine gun than they were.

His steady recoil control and mastery over the ballistics made him look like a literal killing machine.

"Left, eleven o'clock, behind the rock."

Chen Mo didn't need a spotter at all.

His muzzle shifted slightly, and hundreds of bullets instantly shaved a layer off that rock.

The two drug traffickers hiding behind it were turned into Swiss cheese before they could even scream.

In just three short minutes.

The M134's barrels were glowing red-hot.

Chen Mo released the trigger.

The motor stopped spinning, letting out a slow, dying whine.

The valley fell silent.

Only the crackling of flames and the dying groans of the wounded remained.

Not a single one of the twenty-odd pickup trucks was left intact.

The ground was covered in a thick layer of spent casings that crunched underfoot.

"Boss, it's over."

One-Eyed Dragon walked over, glanced at the still-smoking machine gun, and swallowed hard. "This was... so fucking awesome."

Chen Mo took off his sunglasses, his eyes completely devoid of emotion, as if he had just mowed a lawn.

He jumped down from the roof, his combat boots landing on the scorching sand.

"It's not over."

Chen Mo drew his M1911 from his waist and racked the slide to chamber a round.

"Go check the bodies. If they aren't dead, put a bullet in them."

He walked over to a body that was still twitching.

It was the skull-faced guy who had flipped him off earlier.

This guy had been lucky, only having both his legs broken, and was lying there spitting blood while cursing in Spanish.

"Devils... You are devils..."

Chen Mo looked down at him, pressing the muzzle against his forehead.

"This is Texas."

*Bang.*

After the gunshot, the world fell completely silent.

"Jack," Chen Mo called out without looking back.

"Here, Boss." Jack poked his head out of the vehicle, his face slightly pale.

He was a tech guy; this was his first time seeing such a bloody scene.

"Call that priest. I need another twenty thousand rounds. Also..."

Chen Mo pointed at the bodies scattered everywhere. "Have the boys get to work and cut off all their heads."

The surrounding veterans froze for a moment.

Although they were cold-blooded killers themselves, this order was still a bit... too barbaric.

"Boss, this..." One-Eyed Dragon hesitated. "Isn't this a bit much? We are in the US, after all."

Chen Mo turned his head and stared into One-Eyed Dragon's eyes.

"You know very well how Los Zetas treats traitors."

His voice was soft, but everyone present felt a chill run down their spines.

"Cut their heads off and hang them on the barbed wire of the border wall."

Chen Mo holstered his pistol, pulled a handkerchief from his pocket, and wiped off the blood splatters on his hand.

"I want everyone who thinks of crossing this line to see it."

"This isn't their backyard."

"This is Legacy's territory."