Chapter 23

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Protagonist:

Milton

Mins

Thirty minutes later.

Swish... swish...

In the vast underground basement, the two silently packed up various relics.

For Milton, the losses from this battle could be called heavy: three sets of expensive heavy body armor, one completely destroyed, two damaged; combining all intact plates, it amounted to only one and a half sets of body armor left.

The MP5 was damaged, two cannon shells written off, countless bullets and throwing weapons... most critically, they lost a teammate who was relatively reliable in combat and familiar with the local environment and underground market—something no amount of supplies could replace.

Milton sighed with a pang of regret, then calculated the spoils again.

First, a half set of ABA's XtremeIV Level IV armor with all back plates intact, and one FNFAL50.00 automatic rifle.

This thing fires 650 rounds per minute, with an effective range over 600 meters, precise, powerful, low maintenance difficulty... though heavy and poor handling, its firepower is truly ferocious.

In some cases, even if it's the standard FAL50.00 model rather than the FAL 50.41 machine gun model, you can install a drum magazine on this gun and use it as an emergency squad machine gun!

Load it with M61 armor-piercing rounds, and it can even deal with some lightly armored targets.

It largely made up for Milton's firepower problem.

By current standards it's a good gun, and it fills a gap.

"This gun is worth about 10,000 US dollars on the black market; fortunately the panel calculates based on local actual prices, not military procurement prices." Milton quickly inventoried in his mind, calculating his point gains and losses, "A half set of Level IV armor is worth about 25,000 US dollars, but smuggling this stuff counts as a Level II contraband smuggling offense, no Red Points awarded, a bloody loss..."

The remaining few AK-74-type junk guns are worthless—the most valuable part of a gun is actually those high-end components, but these guns don't have many attachments.

After final conversion, Milton spent 150,000 Red Points to fight this battle, and recovered less than 60,000.

No! This loss absolutely cannot be borne by him!

The Fan Kang Gang must take full responsibility for this.

Thinking this, Milton took out the citation and drew up a penalty list for the Fan Kang Gang from the counter—if they can't pay now, they'll pay later!

As Milton signed, Brandon was tidying things on the ground, suddenly breaking the silence: "You... what do you plan to do afterward?"

Milton's pen tip made a "shasha" sound: "The Fan Kang Gang's operation this time was heinous; they must pay a painful price."

Brandon reminded him: "Not planning to run? They suffered such heavy losses this time, they'll definitely go crazy. Believe me, they won't talk to you about laws, and they're certainly no gentlemen; they're temporarily powerless to retaliate against you, so they'll definitely retaliate against your family."

Milton said coldly: "I have no family."

"..." Brandon was stunned for a moment, then said, "Then they'll massacre your hometown and pin the blame on you."

Milton fell silent for a moment, then replied: "I have no hometown."

If they have the guts, let them go to China.

Brandon didn't know how to respond, so he just took a sip of tap water to ease the awkwardness.

"What about you?" Milton asked back while writing, "What do you plan to do?"

"I... I don't know." Brandon shook his head with a bitter smile, "I've offended the Fan Kang Gang, there are moles in the upper levels of the Police Station and Checkpoint, the pharmacy can't stay in business... I, I think I'm finished."

"Then work for me." Milton thickened his skin, forcing his voice to remain steady and calm, "This is your only way out."

Brandon was stunned, his tone bitter: "Brother, I must admit you're strong, but what good is it if you're strong alone? The Fan Gang directly cut off our supply channel; the Border Inspection and Police Station can't do anything to you openly, but what about targeting you in the dark? No money and no connections, you'll just suffocate to death bit by bit."

Milton didn't explain much, just pointed out a fact: "But you have no allies left; only by following me is there a way out, only then can you survive. Think of 'Boss,' think of Liya, think of your family—you only have this one choice."

"..." Brandon sadly discovered the facts were indeed so, "You're right; I'm already in the same boat as you, unfortunately this boat has been leaking."

Milton finished signing the citation in his hand, set the pen down on the table: "Then plug the leak. If the Fan Gang blocks us, we deal with the Fan Gang; if the Checkpoint targets us, I'll control the Checkpoint; as for you, as long as you can spread your influence throughout the entire Police Station, will you still fear your colleagues giving you a cold gun in the back?"

"Think about it: is it like before, watching others' faces and eating leftover rice that falls from others' mouths, or is it getting promoted and making a fortune, controlling everything?"

"Power and wealth are like AIDS—they can only be spread through blood and sex... unless you have a gun in your hand."

The basement fell into silence for over ten seconds.

"Fine! Anyway, we're all going to die; before I die, I want to drag a few people down with me!" Brandon was apparently still very pessimistic, at this moment holding the idea of perishing together with the enemy, "Tell me, who do we hit next?"

Milton walked over to the large man's corpse and rummaged through the body armor on him.

"A captive told me earlier that the Fan Gang has been at war with other gangs in Mexico recently, and here in our area the Fan Gang has already lost 11 people and a large amount of equipment; in the short term, they can't possibly pull out a stronger team to deal with us." Milton stripped the burly man naked, then returned to the pharmacy, his voice drifting over slowly, "The Fan Gang's leader is very cautious; he won't let his subordinates throw their lives away."

"Just as you said, this matter has blown up big; nominally we dealt with a group of terrorists, so the Checkpoint and Police Station won't take any overt action against us."

"In other words, we have a brief breathing period; we don't need to hit anyone. Of course, no strong attack doesn't mean they won't attempt assassination; you still need to be careful about that."

Saying this, Milton picked up a knife, turned around, and went back to the burly man's side.

"You try to build influence in the Police Station, and climb as high as possible... while I'll develop more manpower; the Inspectors on outbound missions aren't well regarded, I can try to win them over. We must band together to form our own faction to make the gangs, corrupt police, and Checkpoint fear us."

"Finally, and most importantly, it's money; we need a lot of money; as long as we have money, we can solve many problems, we can drive the Fan Gang out of Maracan Town."

The next thing to do is to strike the Fan Gang's remaining forces in the town as much as possible, while making money from them.

Swish... swish...

Brandon fell silent again, but this time his silence wasn't because of Milton's words.

But because of what he was doing.

"That uh, I understand the logic, it's just you... why are you playing with the corpse?"

Just now Brandon was furious to the extreme, but he only threw a few punches... how did Milton suddenly start cutting off this burly man's head bit by bit, and then prying open his mouth?!

Milton used the knife to pry open the burly man's mouth, extending his hand to Brandon: "Plastic bag, a smaller one, transparent."

Brandon carefully took a plastic bag and handed it to Milton... now he felt this Inspector was far more terrifying than those killers just now.

The bloody scenes in those perverted murder mystery films aren't as bad as now!

"You, what exactly are you doing?"

Milton put the ticket into a plastic bag and stuffed it into the strong man's mouth, replying, "Mail the ticket to the Fan Kang Gang, find one of their main business addresses, and send it there."

Upon hearing this, Brandon took another sip of tap water, then a second sip, a third sip...

Crazy, powerful, and with a terrifying obsession with taxation that went beyond the ordinary.

Facing the Fan Kang Gang, a hostile faction that nearly cost him his life, the first thing Milton thought of was actually to issue them a ticket?

After two minutes, Milton had more or less finished "packaging" the "tickets."

"Let's go, we're heading out." Milton picked up the head and said, "Your colleagues should already be outside."

Two cannon shells exploded, one of them right at the entrance; the explosion sound could probably be heard throughout the entire town.

Now 30 minutes have passed; the police should also be arriving here just about now.

Milton, carrying the bleeding head, crawled out of the sewer entrance that had already been blown into ruins.

On the Old Street, the morning mist could already be vaguely seen.

The Sheriff who previously investigated the car explosion arrived at the Old Street scene first with his subordinates at this time; they simply put up seal lines, isolating the street.

Click... click... Outside the seal line, a golden-haired female journalist kept finding angles to take photos non-stop.

In the distance, the faint sound of several sirens could be heard — those were the police force responsible for reinforcements.

The Sheriff sighed with some regret.

According to the tip-off, at least 11 heavily armed members with powerful firepower had entered this house; they had bulletproof vests and heavy firepower.

The commotion here just now was so great it was as if a small-scale war had broken out! This entrance looked as if it had been bombarded by a grenade cannon once!

That Inspector is probably done for... the situation inside is unknown; we still have to wait for the Special Police Department Commander's colleagues to arrive before we can go in and see.

A full 11 thugs! If they rush out, even the Sheriff himself would have to turn and run!

At this moment, the Sheriff suddenly heard a bit of movement from the ruins' side, so he subconsciously looked over.

An Inspector covered in blood, in a miserable state, weak and exhausted, crawled out of the ruins bit by bit.

He was carrying a dripping head in his hand.

He raised his head and looked over, his gaze calm.

In this instant, the Sheriff felt a chill run down his spine.