"Tell him, I don't care what means he employs, in six months, I want Chimalhuacán to be squeaky clean!"
"The Governor's Mansion should also find a way to move the population out of the slums, new towns can be developed outside Mexico City to accommodate the people and serve as a frontline position."
"Alright!" Casare nodded vigorously, he could hear the determination in the boss's tone to take down the Chimalhuacán Slums!
Slums without social stability are like a bomb.
Who knows, one day these people might get bold and rush down from the hillside to cause trouble in the city.
For safety, and for the sake of the regime!
Casare also envied Goodrian, who in less than two weeks was promoted from a small regiment leader to the new commander of the Fifth Division!
The youngest division commander among the five divisions has emerged.
Although all rookies, having survived the cruel street fighting, urban warfare, and battles in buildings of the Chimalhuacán Slums, they definitely are the elite.
Hope Victor blesses them.
Northern Lower California, Saint Catherine.
This is a coastal city.
The air is filled with a salty scent, and you can see seagulls freely soaring.
Fishing boats sound their horns, starting a new day.
As one of Victor's "early batches," the people here closely align with his thoughts, whatever Emperor Victor says, they do!
Similarly, Northern Lower California and Southern Lower California are also the places that provide the army with the most soldiers.
The desire to enlist is substantial.
Even on the streets, you can see signs erected.
"For a drug-free Mexico!"
"One person enlists, supreme glory!"
And right now, at "St. Caterina New Recruit Supplement Camp," farewell music is playing everywhere, filled with scenes of men hugging their girlfriends, wives, children.
As one of the "Northern Army's Big Four New Recruit Camps," it maintains a population of over 30,000 throughout the year, and today, 6,000 people will be drafted into the army.
The vacated spots will continue to be recruited.
Anyway, maintain 30,000+, providing fresh blood to replenish the army when needed.
"Jackbo, promise me you'll come back," a young, tender woman wailed as she embraced her boyfriend.
He was in uniform, wearing a pure black Balaklava hat, his deep eyes tenderly gazing at her, lifting the girl onto a flowerbed, swinging his right hand and passing a bouquet of roses, saying with a smile, "Wait for me to return, wait for me to marry you, wait for me."
"If one day, the winds from the south reach your ears, remember, it's me missing you."
The girl cried even harder.
"I'm off, take care of yourself." The rookie patted her face, slung his backpack, and rushed toward the transport truck.
After getting on the truck, Jackbo shouted loudly, waving his hand. "Salma, I love you!"
"Principal, shouldn't we intervene?" asked an instructor from the supplement camp beside Nidhog Black, who was missing an arm and had scars on his face, smiling at the scene.
"Let the lads have their goodbyes, maybe…"
He didn't finish his sentence, but everyone understood, maybe... could this be the last time they see each other?
They've all come down from the front lines, most of the instructors were wounded.
Someone like Principal Nidhog Black, who had an arm blown off, is sometimes considered lucky, at least he's alive; but it's also unfortunate, as he was the sole survivor of his company.
Dozens of transport trucks slowly departed the camp.
Nidhog Black watched the departing soldiers, "Salute!"
Everyone saluted in unison.
Good morning, good afternoon, good night!