Chapter 62: Tax Collection Only Within Machine Gun Range

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Protagonist:

Milton

Mins

In 15 minutes, the three of them turned the villa upside down.

When everything was laid out, even the well-traveled Milton couldn't help but exclaim at the extent of Carlos's wealth.

Cash, jewelry, luxury watches, fine wine, a gold-plated Browning...

A rough estimate put the value of these items at no less than 150,000 US dollars; even liquidated at a discount, the floor was 100,000 US dollars, all 100,000 belonging to Milton himself.

Luz and Veronica had not participated in the assault on the Checkpoint; by the rules, they couldn't share in the spoils — of course, the night shift overtime pay was guaranteed.

Adding the previous bank draft, Milton had already extracted a full 200,000 US dollars from Carlos's personal pocket.

In a country where the average annual income was under 1,500 US dollars, Carlos's quickly liquidatable assets alone amounted to 200,000!

As expected, the poorer the place, the harder the officials squeeze.

Most important of all was the corresponding 1 million Red Points — this amount should be enough to redeem a lightly armored armed military vehicle.

Just need to develop a bit more influence and wait for the system to open the corresponding Prop redemption.

Made a killing!

The only pity was that no "classified documents" were found; Carlos apparently didn't have the habit of bringing files into his own home.

But Milton was extremely, extremely satisfied with this haul.

The three continued tallying the remaining spoils.

Luz fished out a black rectangular box with an antenna from his own bag and placed it on top of that pile of miscellaneous items: "Boss, take a look at what this thing is. I felt it might be worth a bit of money, so I brought it over."

At those words, Milton turned his head and glanced at it.

Flip cover, external antenna, screen displaying a single line of numbers...

Milton, who often watched movies in his past life, blanked for a second. Holy cow, isn't this a "big brother" mobile phone?!

A 1994 "cell phone" actually appeared before him in physical form.

In a place where 100 people don't have 3 phone lines between them, Carlos is actually using a Motorola MicroTAC 9800X?

This thing, saying it's valuable, it really is very valuable.

But saying it's useful... it doesn't seem to have much use — bulky and heavy, no encryption, poor signal, battery only supports one hour of talk time; aside from showing off, what use does it have?

In a border town it's practically just an ornament.

Seeing the boss's expression turn strange, Luz immediately said: "If it's no use, I'll throw it away."

Milton raised a hand: "Forget it. It may not be usable, but we can't be without it. This thing should still have a matching charger set; you help me fetch it, I'll snap its original SIM card first."

"That's about it. Load the stuff onto the truck, let's move out."

This sweep was very fast, taking no more than half an hour, and the large sum of cash harvested turned the pharmacy's precarious finances around for the better.

Luz glanced back at the villa and asked: "Boss, what about this house? Send someone to occupy it?"

"This broken house has a simple environment, flat terrain, easy to attack and hard to defend, a pure sitting duck, not a shred of strategic value. What's the point of occupying it?" Milton waved a hand. "Burn it directly."

"Right, I'll go find some fuel..."

"..."

Over ten minutes later, Milton drove along the highway toward Maracan Town. Behind him, a villa burned fiercely, and a building twisted, warped, and finally collapsed with a boom in the fire.

Luz's emotions surged; at this moment he had already realized that he might be witnessing... no, participating in the rise of a new powerful faction!

He believed that in the future, this group led by Milton would surely rise and become an existence capable of standing on equal footing with Pedro, Varta, and the Fan Kang Gang in the town.

"Raoul and Varta this time can be said to have suffered heavy losses, losing face completely along with it."

"Most importantly, their cooperation is bound to collapse. I really want to see the expressions on Raoul and Varta when they find out about this..."

"Two or three more victories like today's, and we'll thoroughly have the strength to oppose them."

"..."

The three returned fully loaded to Old Street before day fully broke.

"Is it my illusion? Why do I feel there are so many people at the black market today?" Luz looked out the window. "And... hmm, why does it feel like they're all gathered at our pharmacy?"

Normally at this hour, Old Street wouldn't have that many people, and even if there were, the vast majority would be walking past with heads down at a quick pace, rarely lingering in one place for long.

But now, a full eleven or twelve people gathered at the Black Pharmacy entrance — an extremely rare occurrence.

They didn't look like the especially poor type, either.

Seeing that iconic Defender, some of them even walked over this way; if they hadn't all deliberately shown their hands, Milton would have opened fire by now.

Milton ignored them, quickly parked the car in the garage, and found Flora crouched at a concealed position aiming her gun — they had already dealt with the medical truck and returned to the pharmacy to stand guard.

"What's the deal with these people?"

"They say they're here looking for you. Your pharmacy's customers seem to recognize some of them." Flora answered. "Rest assured, the moment they make a dangerous move I'll shoot immediately."

Milton hurriedly grabbed a pharmacy customer and asked, only then finally learning these people's background.

These people were some merchants from the Old Street black market, as well as merchants from a few legitimate shops and restaurants not far from Old Street.

After hearing of Milton's deeds and seeing that he not only didn't die after one crazy action after another but his influence grew larger and larger, and the "Hell Tax Collector" title rang louder and louder, quite a few who had been watching the show finally couldn't laugh anymore.

Because they discovered that they themselves seemed to have evaded taxes, underreported taxes...

And Milton used actual actions to tell everyone that doing so had a very high chance of getting machine-gunned, or even blasted by a cannon.

People who can do business in the black market aren't fools; quite a few sharp-eyed ones saw that the Fan Kang Gang and the Police Station's influence in the black market area had already begun to subside.

Power doesn't disappear; it only transfers.

Who is the new person in charge?

Naturally, it's Milton!

Luz listened and frowned: "They all seem like fence-sitters, like they're coming over to pay protection fees."

"The vast majority of people are fence-sitters; wherever the wind blows, they fall that way, so don't be too harsh on them." Milton waved his hand. "Since so many people have arrived here, it shows the wind has already started blowing toward our side. This is a good thing."

It seems that the prototype of one's own faction, at least the prototype of a sphere of influence, has gradually begun to form.

"Then... let them enter?"

Milton nodded: "See what they want to say. Remember to search them first."

"Okay..." Luz nodded, then muttered a sentence: "Hmm, why does this scene feel a bit familiar? A dim underground basement, meeting all kinds of people. It feels like Boss, you really are a bit like the Godfather of Old Street."