Chapter 58: Taxes Are Only Within the Range of Machine Guns! Chapter 56

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Protagonist:

Milton

Mins

He hadn't even finished two sentences before Carlos never dreamed he would already be slapped with the charge of "treason."

A hint of fear finally appeared on Carlos's face, but he still refused to believe Milton really dared to kill him.

This man only looked crazy; everything seemed big, but he kept a basic sense of proportion, making everyone unwilling to escalate things—he wasn't a true madman.

"You're not a judge; you have no right to convict me!"

Bang!

In the time it took to say that, Milton fired again, crippling his other leg.

"I may not have the right to convict you, but now I have the power," Milton said seriously. "You can't only talk about rights when you have no power."

At the same time, Milton aimed the muzzle at Carlos's third leg.

The excruciating pain in his leg and infinite fear of death finally made Carlos face reality.

"Ah!!!"

"I'll talk, I'll talk! Ask away!"

"The Station Chief's money and this week's customs duty are in the safe in his office's underground basement. I don't know the password, but you can definitely open it!"

Carlos gave Milton the impression of being cold and ruthless, beastly in human form, with a military bearing; he was said to have led the massacre of several Mexican and Guatemalan police officers, a cold-blooded butcher, expected to be a tough nut to crack.

Daring to talk back with a gun pointed at him made Milton prepare for torture, even mentally preparing for the possibility that torture might yield nothing.

As it turned out, this butcher was actually a coward; once he realized Milton would really shoot, he immediately showed his true colors—someone who only knew how to hit others, not be hit.

Milton hadn't even asked yet, and he was already volunteering intelligence!

"Very good," Milton nodded with satisfaction. "Now tell me, what did you do at the Garbage Disposal Plant, and why did you react so strongly before?"

Even if the enemy can't be fought for now, you first have to know who the enemy is.

Hearing this question, Carlos's face changed drastically; obviously the answer terrified him.

Bang!

In that instant of hesitation, Milton fired again, shattering his shoulder.

"The Sinaloa Cartel!!! They have their goods there. The Zapatista Uprising Army is cracking down on drugs, and no drug trafficker can fully control the smuggling channel from Chiapas to Guatemala, so they're looking for locals to help! Damn it, do you know what the Sinaloa Cartel is? Do you know Guzman? Do you know how many people you almost got killed?!"

"They even dare to kill the Mayor! I've also heard some drug traffickers dare to kill US DEA agents!"

"The Fan Kang Gang only gained the upper hand in their fight with the Cocoa Gang, qualifying them to contact one of their Small Bosses and qualify to do work for them! Without this profit, the Fan Kang Gang couldn't possibly defeat the Cocoa Gang!"

As expected... Milton wasn't very surprised in his heart.

Near Mexico, it would be strange if there were no drugs; moreover, this place was originally an important channel for various drug raw materials from Central America to Mexico.

Major Groups, the Uprising Army, and even the Government Army all erupted in fierce conflict here, trying to seize control of this important channel.

Exporting raw materials, importing drugs... the stakes were enough to get many, many people killed; Carlos wasn't lying.

He was indeed an enemy they couldn't afford to provoke for now.

But Milton wasn't too afraid either... First, the Sinaloa Cartel's core power wasn't on this side, and the Uprising Army was holding the front, so there was no fear for now; second, an agent of a Small Boss definitely didn't represent the entire Sinaloa Cartel.

The biggest direct threat now was actually the local departments corrupted through and through by drug trafficking groups.

Eliminate the Fan Kang Gang, control the Checkpoints, wipe out various external forces in the Town, and integrate an internal force completely belonging to himself... a long road ahead.

"How nice it would be if you'd cooperated this early?" Milton sneered. "Now, the next question—how much money do you plan to spend to buy your life? No, how much fine do you think you need to pay to offset your treason charge?"

Carlos spoke with difficulty: "Why should I believe you'll let me go after you get the money?"

"Because you have no choice, just as you don't like giving others a choice. Now, tell me the location of the cash, bank accounts, and passwords."

Milton would keep cash and other valuables for himself, while the filthy money transferred directly through banks would be thrown to Flora's team to be paid out as salaries.

As an Offshore Company, they could accept such large transfers of unknown origin and had ways to launder them.

"Then how will you verify the information I provide?"

Carlos at this moment showed not a trace of the air of a boss who once dominated the region; he meekly displayed his weakness and pitiful side, begging only to save his life.

Actually, most such gangs, and even rulers of such bizarre small countries, could be summed up in one word: Worms/Pests.

The so-called Godfathers, the so-called Drug Lords were either just a bunch who only knew how to scare and bully the unarmed, or simply compradors.

Where were any heroes?

Could real heroes or villains really mix in this kind of place, doing things like selling banned drugs to pregnant women, selling opioid painkillers to children, hanging the families of slain police officers on Red Lights?

Milton replied: "You still have family; I'll dig them out one by one, kill them all, and hang them on Red Lights. You know I'll do this."

To deal with villains, you must use villains' methods.

Carlos, who was always the one saying such things to others and hearing them said to himself for the first time, immediately spoke up: "I'll talk, I'll talk!"

"'Medicine Bottle', take photos. 'Medicine Bottle', write down what he said."

"Received."

A few minutes later, Milton got everything he wanted—including cash and valuables totaling 150,000 US Dollars inside the Checkpoint, and a Citibank bank draft worth nearly 100,000 US Dollars.

Actually, even if Carlos was really cheating and the bank draft information was fake, Milton didn't care much.

Just these valuables, that whole truckload of Medical Supplies and drugs, could be called a huge harvest.

And this operation's destructive blow to the relationship between the Checkpoint and the Fan Kang Gang was of immeasurable value.

Their cooperation link was originally this one truck; now the truck has been taken away, what cooperation is there to speak of?

Even without a complete falling-out, rebuilding trust and a deep foundation of cooperation requires a long time.

This means the enemy is no longer united as one rope—a huge strategic victory!

Milton looked at Flora: "This bank draft is yours, as this month's salary. I don't care how you clean it, the extra is yours, the shortfall is yours too. Any problems?"

With a reliable channel, nearly 100,000 in dirty money, cleaned up comes to about 60,000—quite a bit more than the previously agreed monthly salary, a win-win for all.

Who doesn't want to earn more money? Flora nodded: "No problem."

"Poison Medicine" was also very happy, but he didn't forget the main point, pointing at the three people on the ground and asking: "By the way, boss, how do you plan to handle these three people?"

Hearing this, Milton looked toward Carlos.