The Savior of the Wicked

Mexico City.

Just from the name, one could tell that this was the capital of Mexico.

Nearly half of the country's industry, commerce, service sector, and banking and financial institutions were concentrated here;

combined with its vast number of historic buildings, this had created a thriving tourism industry. It ranked eighteenth among the world's cities and was rated an A-class first-tier global city.

Unlike other parts of Mexico, public security here was fairly good. After all, as an "international metropolis," the government had put considerable effort into attracting tourists.

Legend had it that before the thirteenth century, the ancient Aztec Indians, guided by the god of war they worshipped, came to an island in Lake Texcoco. They filled in land for farming, built dikes and roads, and founded Tenochtitlan in 1325 AD.

Later, after the Spanish conquerors defeated the Aztec Empire, the Indian civilization of Central America, they razed its capital, Tenochtitlan, to the ground.

They then rebuilt a city atop the ruins: what was now Mexico City.

Now, this city had become—

A battlefield!

Bzzzzzz, "This is PC-7-14, calling headquarters! Calling headquarters!"

A single-engine, propeller-driven straight-wing trainer aircraft was fleeing desperately over the city. This Swiss-made turboprop trainer, manufactured forty years ago, had been favored by many "small nations" for its affordability and simple design. Mexico had equipped sixty-four of them.

Major powers had no interest in fielding these propeller trainers, which resembled "World War I aircraft," but smaller countries could still use them as "attack planes."

Incidentally, Bharat had also bought seventy-five of these aircraft to bully neighboring countries armed with nothing but guns~~

"This is PC-7-14, we've been 'bitten'!"

"I repeat, we've been—"

Before the pilot could finish, the fleeing trainer suddenly jolted violently in midair.

Because the plane's tail had been viciously bitten by a monster!