In fact, many people here should be said to be working as "temporary workers" for drug traffickers.
It's similar to rounding up numbers!
But no matter who you are, once you pick up a weapon, you are a drug trafficker, an enemy, deserving to be eliminated. Bullets won't fly up to your face and then check your ID card.
A pickup truck smashed through the drug traffickers blocking the road, drifting suavely.
At the back of the truck was a DShK heavy machine gun, with a drug trafficker standing behind it, even wearing headphones and sunglasses, firing at the supermarket rooftop!
Bang bang bang...
Bullets hit the exterior wall, and the fragments of cement that splattered on one's face were painful.
This thing was meant to shoot down planes!
The bullets were so thick (draw with your own pencil after taking off your pants).
The cartridge cases fell from the side, clinking on the truck before dropping to the ground, still smoking.
