Taxes are only within machine gun range!

Chapter 110 Something's Wrong with This Town!
The area around the central church in Malacan town, which was already quite crowded, is now even more bustling with people.

There's no other reason than that there are jobs and positions available here!

A legitimate job and position.

An old bicycle passed by, ridden by a woman, with a boy sitting behind her.

Neo, the little boy from the grocery store, saw many people applying for jobs outside the police station and his face showed a resentful expression: "Mom, I want to work, I want to earn money, I want to be a policeman!"

"Didn't 'The Godfather' tell you that?" The grocery store owner turned around and glared at Neo, a little angry. "You have to study first. School starts today, and you want to be late on your first day?"

"If you won't listen to me, then won't you listen to 'The Godfather'?"

When Neo heard his mother use Milton to pressure him, his face immediately fell: "Fine... I'll go to school."

Soon, she took Neo to school—where there were many familiar faces, including Leah, the other children, and the town’s more educated people who had been invited to teach.

I heard that in order to improve the quality of education, Mr. "Godfather" has also raised teachers' salaries and tried to bring in some more outstanding teachers from other places.

"Study hard! Believe in Mr. 'Godfather,' only education can change your destiny. Also, you must listen to your teachers, or I'll tell Mr. 'Godfather' to make sure he never lets you into the police force again!"

"All right……"

Watching her child walk into the school, the grocery store owner smiled with satisfaction, then quickly rode her bicycle back to the vicinity of the central church.

Since the security situation in the old streets improved, she also wanted to find another job to see if she could earn more money.

With her child going to school and unable to look after the shop, plus the tuition fees, there were two financial holes left. Although the pressure wasn't too great, she still wanted to see if she could save some money.

If Neo really wants to become a police officer in the future, he'll need to have the money to buy a good gun.

“Miner, 60 qchar per day... room and board included, but it’s too far away.”

"Police officer, construction worker, electrician... the pay is good, but none of them seem to suit me. I also need to look after the shop."

"A chef?! That sounds like a good idea! I can cook, and as long as I get up a little earlier each day, I should be able to manage. I can also get supplies from my grocery store, which will reduce costs a bit!"

She immediately stepped forward, looked at Matteo, and skillfully took out a few old banknotes from her pocket and handed them over, saying, "Mr. Matteo... I... I'd like to try being a chef. You know, I can cook, and I own a shop. I can help Mr. 'Godfather' reduce his procurement costs..."

Both were from the old neighborhood and knew each other well, but now their statuses were worlds apart.

Matteo waved his hand, refusing the banknote, and said, "No need for that. In this small town, the only money you need to pay is taxes. I'll write your name down. Just come here for the interview tomorrow. Don't worry, I think with your skills, you'll easily get this job. There aren't any proper chefs around here."

"Okay, okay! Thank you!"

"Alright, alright... next one, take your time, don't slip me any money, don't try to bribe me! Mr. 'Hell Tax Collector' will shoot me if he sees this, understand?!"

"..."

It wasn't just the residents of the old streets; the area around the central church was a gathering place for almost all the unemployed people in the town, or those who had previously been involved in illegal activities.

Even the homeless people Milton had previously encountered on Green Leaf Street, who slept at the "boss's" house and made a living by selling blood, timidly came to this area.

They were terrified of being punished for their previous offenses against Milton and Brandon, but they really didn't want to make a living by selling blood for drug trials anymore, so they cautiously came to try their luck.

The madness of burning Pedro alive in public, which was beyond everyone's imagination, instilled a deep fear in them of this "hellish tax collector" whom they had only met once.

But...in the end, the fear of poverty outweighed the fear of Milton.

After finding that no police officers were arresting them, they went to a booth at the mine that was recruiting miners.

"Sir, sir... Hello! We would like to work at the mine, is that alright? We can bring our own food."

"No need. You'll have to prepare your own food? You'll starve to death. Mining is hard work, you know?" The person in charge of recruitment was worried about not having enough people to become miners. Seeing someone coming over, he immediately took out paper and pen to register them. "Sign your names. Meet here tomorrow. We'll set off after we finish eating."

In the past, jobs that paid close to $6 a day would be snapped up as soon as they were offered – you couldn’t find such a high-paying job without paying money!

Milton didn't need to cultivate any connections and could monopolize all the profits from the mine, so he also appropriately raised his salary a little.

Even so, because the town needed manpower everywhere, the mine was almost deserted – although the wages were relatively high, the journey was long and the mine was somewhat dangerous, so people preferred to work in the town.

"Okay, thank you, thank you sir!"

"No, don't thank me." The person in charge of registration immediately became serious. "You should thank Mr. 'Hell Tax Collector.' It was his arrival that provided you with jobs, and all you have to do is pay taxes to him, understand?"

This time, their voices finally carried a hint of sincerity.

"Thank you, Mr. 'Hell Tax Collector'!"

"Is this the benefit of paying taxes? Paying taxes means you get a job and food to eat... Then I'll kneel on the ground and beg him to come and collect my taxes!"

"Long live Milton!"

"God bless the 'hell tax collectors'! Hmm, something sounds a bit weird about that?"

"Hahaha! I'll have a job now, and I can support myself! Suddenly, I feel like being under the rule of the 'Hell Tax Collector' isn't so bad, at least it's much better than Varta and Pedro."

"Yeah, I suddenly realized I haven't been robbed for two or three days. It's a miracle...it's amazing! I need to pay my taxes too, I'll pay them at the beginning of the month!"

"Watch your mouths! Didn't you watch TV yesterday? Didn't you see what happened to Pedro?!"

"If you dare not pay taxes, hehe."

Just then, a projector in the center of the church square suddenly lit up.

Several police officers nearby immediately grabbed megaphones and shouted, "'The Godfather' has caught a criminal! He's having a trial on the spot! Everyone come and see!"

Upon hearing this, many people immediately looked up and turned their gazes toward it.

Most people are afraid of Milton, and some are even too scared to sleep because of yesterday's burning of Pedro, but they still can't control their curiosity when they hear about similar things happening.

Who will be burned to death this time?

Then they saw a man handcuffed to a table.

Someone recognized him immediately.

"Isn't this the hospital director?"

"That can't be right, I've met the hospital director before."

"Are you stupid? I was talking about the director of the St. Lucia Clinic."

"Did he commit a crime too? Did he evade taxes? Someone so rich would evade taxes?!"

"Who knows? I've heard that the richer you are, the stingier you are."

The townspeople were generally indifferent and didn't care much. They just felt a sense of satisfaction when they saw someone who was rich but unwilling to pay taxes being caught.

But soon, the townspeople who had been watching the spectacle and the joke stopped laughing.

Milton is seen conducting an interrogation in the footage.

"I've uncovered a kidney smuggling case. You forged a diagnosis to trick him into having surgery. The time, the place... guess what his name is?"

Just seconds after the question was asked, a man nearby suddenly let out an incredulous and devastated roar, threw down the registration form in his hand, and ran towards the hospital like a madman. "I've discovered a... smuggling case."

"I've discovered it..."

As Milton recounted the interrogation details one by one, angry shouts erupted from the vicinity as people rushed toward the hospital.

The others were dumbfounded.

They couldn't believe that a hospital would do such a thing, that there would be such a complete chain of "drug trials - getting sick - using tests for matching - fabricating illness - organ trading"!

Many people even felt a bit of lingering fear – there's probably only one reason they're still alive.

The match was unsuccessful.

"Holy shit! How could this dean be so disgusting?"

"Is he still a doctor? I heard they have to swear oaths, aren't they afraid of God punishing him?"

“I didn’t see God, but I saw ‘hell tax collectors’.”

"He broke his oath, so the 'Hell Tax Collector' came after him!"

"Let's go to the hospital! I'm going to kill him! That's how my sister disappeared, and I suspect he did it!!!"

"Oh my God... my child, that's my child..."

"Thank the 'Hell Tax Collector,' thank him! Is this all the rights we get after paying taxes? If it weren't for the great Milton, we might have lived our whole lives believing our loved ones died of illness!"

"God will bless him, He definitely will!"

"God must have blessed Malacan Town to send the 'Hell Tax Collector' here!"

"You're talking nonsense! I've never seen any God, I've only seen 'hellish tax collectors,' and 'godfathers' who belong to us!"

"Long live Milton!!!"

……

Meanwhile, people gradually entered the town from different roads and conducted brief visits.

The more I visited them, the more alarmed I became.

A man and a woman who had rushed to the town overnight arrived at a bar, ordered two beers from the bartender, and sat down at the bar to talk in hushed tones.

"...It's a bit tricky. You see, Milton has very strict military control here. I think even if we send in armored vehicles to attack, the losses won't be small."

"Then, an airstrike?"

"What a joke, deploying the air force for such a small place? Even if Congressman Lopez were to handle it personally, it would be extremely difficult. We're not the United States, with so many planes available for combat."

"What should I do?"

"Never mind those things... Let the military handle the military matters. Don't forget our purpose here: 'investigation' and 'disruption.' What we need to do is investigate Milton's connection to the court-martial and find as much evidence as possible, even eyewitness testimony."

"Disruptive actions don't necessarily require an attack."

"How about we pay someone to vouch for us?"

"It's useless... Given Milton's shamelessness, he'll just do the same thing and bribe someone to accuse Senator Lopez of plotting the Pearl Harbor attack. What's the point? If you're going to bribe someone, you have to find a way to bribe one of their own people. Only then will the witness testimony be meaningful."

"That's true... Sometimes, money is more threatening than guns."

"You know what scares me the most? Contrary to what we imagined, the people in this town don't seem to hate Milton that much."

In the general perception of people like Lopez, Milton was such a brutal man that the people of Malacan should be terrified of him and desperately want to overthrow his rule.

But in reality, it seems that this is not the case.

Most people, though fearful when Milton is mentioned, don't seem to be faking their emotions when they shout "Long live Milton!"

“Perhaps we should go somewhere further,” the woman said after a moment’s thought. “This place is close to the old streets, Milton’s stronghold. Maybe we should go further, to Pedro’s old territory, where the people probably don’t like Milton as much.”

“Okay, let’s go take a look… If we can find one or two people who are willing to cooperate with us, we’ll probably be able to find evidence of Milton’s crimes.”

After finishing their beer and paying, the two walked to another bar.

The bar closer to the police station was mostly empty at this time, apparently because of some event being held near the central church.

The female investigator placed two coins on the table and casually said with a smile, "Two beers, please."

The bartender glanced at them, poured them two glasses of wine, and asked, "Out-of-towners?"

"Yes... I'm going to Mexico, so I thought I'd stop by and take a look. I heard some bad things happened here? Aren't your superiors too cruel?"

The bartender's expression immediately turned sour—he had indeed been terrified of Milton until recently, when Milton's interrogation revealed the true cause of his wife's death.

Seeing the bartender's change in expression, the investigators immediately felt they had come to the right place. The two of them then took out two more coins and tossed them over, guiding the conversation by asking, "Hey, how's life been? Business not so good?"

The bartender replied curtly, "It's alright, God bless this land."

"Haha! I didn't see God here, I only saw a vicious 'hell tax collector,' brother, do you want to..."

Before the two men could even speak, the bartender's face turned completely cold.

"You haven't seen God, have you? If I hear you say anything bad about Mr. 'The Godfather' again, you'll see God right away."

"Get out! Malicious guests are not welcome here!"

The two were then kicked out of the bar, looking bewildered and embarrassed.

its not right?
Why is this town like this?
They've been saying that everyone suffers from the hellish tax collectors for so long, they're itching to rise up in rebellion!
"No! An internal investigation is too difficult. How about we try from the outside? Let's take action against his job. If we make it so that people can't afford to eat, then naturally people will oppose Milton, right?"

"External? What do you mean?"

"A mine! I heard Milton seized a mine. Let's try to sabotage it here. Maybe we can force Milton to send out his helicopter, and then we can find evidence. Even if he doesn't send out the helicopter, we can still damage his income, eliminate many jobs, and even cause considerable losses."

"Moreover, a 'mining disaster' that caused staggering losses is also a good excuse for us to intervene in the investigation."

“Good idea! But I don’t think it’s enough. It seems that Milton is even more capable than we thought.”

"What else do you have in mind?"

"A bounty!" the man said through gritted teeth. "They killed a minor leader of the Sinaloa Cartel, so the drug cartel puts a bounty on the heads of everyone in Milton's team! I want to throw them into complete chaos from within."

"Okay, let's add a bounty to the mining accident report. Once everyone else arrives and we've assembled, we'll discuss the specific execution plan!"

"Milton is doomed. His petty tricks are worthless in the face of absolute power and money!"

"If a world can't be saved, then it's better to just destroy it."

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(End of this chapter)