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Chapter 46: Tax Collection Only Within Machine Gun Range! Chapter 44: Interview

~7 min read 1,290 words

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Protagonist:

Milton

Mins

Milton looked at Brandon with some surprise.

20,000 US dollars — the vast majority of people would have to work 15 years without eating or drinking to earn that, yet Brandon just took it out like that.

Can share weal and woe, can also share wealth and honor...

At this moment, Milton completely regarded Brandon as his own deputy.

Then he wouldn't pursue the matter of him fabricating rumors all day long.

"30,000 in gold, 70,000 in cash." Milton also patted Brandon's shoulder, "Cash on delivery."

"Good good good! Ammunition will be brought over after you go out! Thank you for your patronage, thank you for your patronage!"

"Ghost Wolf" took the money and gold with trembling hands, and after verifying authenticity with a bill counter and spectrometer, his mouth could barely close from smiling.

This deal, he earned nearly 10,000 US dollars!

However, just as he was overjoyed, he saw Milton extend his hand, quickly pulling 5,000 US dollars from that stack of banknotes.

"Ghost Wolf" was a bit confused, he looked up at Milton in puzzlement: "Uh, this is?"

Milton stuffed the money to Brandon, then signed a ticket and receipt, and said: "This is the tax collected on your smuggling of this batch of weapons."

This is your real bottom-line price.

"Ghost Wolf" stared dumbfounded at that receipt, his brain overloaded for a good while, then he shook his head with a bitter smile: "Fuck, you even collect tax on this... The rumors are true, you really are a madman! Fine fine! Just count it as me paying a protection fee to the 'Hell Tax Collector'."

Earning 5,000 US dollars isn't bad either.

"Of course." Milton glanced at the points credited on his panel, and said seriously, "As long as you pay taxes on time, you enjoy the rights of a taxpayer here with me."

"Ghost Wolf," who had earned a large sum, was in a good mood, and didn't take this sentence to heart at the moment, he nodded: "Okay okay, let's go, I'll help you transport the stuff back."

Milton didn't stand up, he deliberated a moment, then said: "Right, there's still a small matter, want you to help out."

"Ghost Wolf" looked over warily, very cautiously not agreeing immediately: "You speak first."

"I plan to recruit some reliable people. The requirements are..." Milton stated his needs, "Loyalty I won't demand too much of, but at least they must not defect."

"Your current identities are a problem..." "Ghost Wolf" thought a moment, nodded agreeing to help with this favor, "I'll try to help you find some, but I can't guarantee complete reliability, you'll have to judge for yourself too."

Milton agreed: "No problem."

"Alright, wait a moment, I'll help you contact channels."

Finished speaking, "Ghost Wolf" left the counter, turned and entered the office.

Brandon and the assistant stood up, camouflaged the weaponry well, transported it out of the gun shop, and brought it back to the pharmacy's underground basement.

By the time Brandon finished and rushed back, "Ghost Wolf" happened to walk out of his office as well.

"Come to my office. In a bit someone will call, you guys do the initial screening, as for the interview I won't help coordinate."

Phone? In this kind of country, phones rely on public phone booths, private phone lines seem to average 3 lines per 100 people? Worthy of an arms dealer, really rich.

Milton exclaimed in admiration, following "Ghost Wolf" into the office.

"Ghost Wolf" very thoughtfully stood by the door and didn't enter, after the two went in he directly left the office, even helpfully closing the door behind him.

Milton sat down, glanced at the phone, and felt surprised again — this was actually a push-button phone rather than a rotary dial phone!

Arms dealing really makes money.

Over ten minutes later, the phone rang.

Milton reached out and picked up the receiver.

The person inside spoke English with a heavy accent: "Hello, may I ask if this is Mr. Milton, the 'Hell Tax Collector'?"

Milton frowned, and replied in English: "You don't know Spanish?"

"I... I don't..."

"Sorry, our team needs smooth language communication, maybe we'll cooperate another time."

Milton directly hung up this call.

Brandon at the side looked shocked: "Boss, you actually know English too? Is there anything you don't know?"

"What's this count as, I also know Chinese."

"..."

Chatted two sentences, the phone rang again.

"Is this the 'Hell Tax Collector'?"

"I am Milton."

"Nice to meet you, I'm Dane, 28 years old, served 6 years in the US Army conventional combat brigade, participated in the Gulf War, rich experience, can serve as assault trooper and precision shooter, proficient with most weapons, drive most vehicles, am a freelance mercenary."

Brandon listened, an excited expression appeared on his face... This, sounds pretty good!

However, Milton frowned and shook his head, asked: "Freelance mercenary? You haven't joined a mercenary corps recently?"

"No, I..."

Before he could finish, Milton directly hung up the phone.

Brandon looked over blankly, asked: "Boss, isn't this person pretty good?"

Milton coldly smiled: "Freelance mercenary, sounds nice, isn't it just that no mercenary corps wants him... Hehe, in this kind of place wanting to be a cannon fodder mercenary, basically anyone qualifies. With his qualifications he could clearly be a middle-level member in any mercenary corps, yet he's fallen to the point where no one wants him, shows he definitely has major problems."

Milton isn't especially an insider, doesn't know what the problem is, but staying away is definitely right.

Even those mercenary corps like demons and monsters don't want him, Milton certainly won't want him either.

Brandon suddenly realized: "So that's how it is... wait, what kind of people did that 'Ghost Wolf' introduce? So unreliable?"

Milton didn't blame the gun shop boss: "He's not a professional either, he could only roughly screen for us, the details we have to handle ourselves."

"True..."

After a while longer, the phone rang again.

"Hello." This time a crisp female voice appeared on the other end, "Is this 'Hell Tax Collector'?"

"Just call me Milton. How should I address you?"

"Flora Crolis. We are a registered security company, just completed the previous employer's contract, three people total, all retired from NATO country regular armies, professional and reliable, mission completion rate extremely high."

Milton nodded slightly.

Actually a proper small security company? Looks like the civil war really is ending soon, so many people planning to go to Chiapas, Mexico to make money? But a company from such a small place wouldn't be that proper anyway.

"Today 4 PM, interview at the 'Kuai Kuai Delivery' Chinese restaurant near the police station, salary negotiable, must be on time."

The female voice on that end agreed readily: "Okay, see you then."

The female voice on the other end answered readily: "Alright, see you later."

Next, Milton took a few more calls, there were mercenary corps withdrawn from the civil war frontlines, regular soldiers retired due to decreased war intensity... of course, there were also scammers.

In the end, Milton confirmed three interview targets total.

Hanging up the last call, Milton stretched: "Alright, you go to the police station to prepare for the commendation conference, I'll handle the interviews alone. Be careful on the way, I arranged for Luz to cover you, but you can't be careless yourself either."

Hanging up the last call, Milton stretched: "Alright, you go to the Police Station and prepare for the Commendation Conference; I'll handle the interview myself. Be careful on the way, I've arranged for Luz to cover you, but you can't let your guard down either."

Brandon chuckled: "Who knows, Boss, you might even see me on TV!"

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End of Chapter

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