Taxes are only within machine gun range!

Chapter 119 Triangular trade can also be exported and then sold domestically?!
In the newsroom of a small town.

Milton sat down next to Olya and looked at the latest newspaper.

After reading it, he nodded in satisfaction: "Not bad. Judging from the news, our town is indeed in grave danger. It's a dilapidated house; it would collapse if someone kicked it."

In the past few days, more than one group of gang members have been sneaking over from the vicinity every day, attempting to rob the trade route.

The sheer number of slaves forced Milton to allocate another infantry fighting vehicle, forming Slave Capture Squad No. 2.

On average, as many as 10 gang members attempt to rob the place every day!
He sent Milton $3 in just one day!
Brandon chimed in, "Boss, it seems the trade route hasn't been affected. A lot of people have come and bought insurance, and we've made a small fortune from it."

As the director, Brandon really couldn't have imagined making money this way, no matter how hard he tried.

This isn't just making money, it's practically printing money.

Milton looked up at him and said, "That's exactly the effect I want—to make the enemy think their attack has worked, to attract gangs like moths to a flame, and to not disrupt trade."

"We must let everyone know that Malacan is a land of gold!"

Brandon nodded with a sigh: "I've sent people to inquire a bit these past couple of days, and the reputation we have here is completely different between the gangsters and the businessmen."

"The gangsters think that our side is very risky, but if it succeeds, they will make a fortune. The businessmen think that we have a lot of bad news, but they have not actually heard of any of their peers suffering losses. Moreover, the profits of doing business here are high, so trade has not been affected much."

Milton tapped the table and said, "Now there's another problem. We've resolved things with the gangs, and now all the gangs think this area is a goldmine. But we haven't dealt with the bounty hunters. What are we going to do?"

It's easy for the gang to stage a robbery, but the bounty hunters are there to assassinate Milton's team members.

If they continue to make no money, at best fewer and fewer people will come to their door to deliver money, at worst their scheme will be exposed, and this business of earning $3 a day will be completely ruined.

This kind of business is definitely not sustainable, but Milton hopes to hold on a little longer—after all, building and maintaining an airport is very expensive. Even a small field airfield with only a 1000-meter runway would cost at least $50 to build.

An airport, especially a military airport, is not something that can be accomplished simply by building a runway and a dilapidated building next to it.

Hangars, sewers, weather vanes, lighting, fire protection, security, fuel depots, communication equipment, ground support... all of these are money-burning gadgets.

The air force is an extremely expensive branch of the military. To build an air force, even a very weak one, requires a huge amount of money.

Not to mention this is just the airport, not even counting the planes.

Don't even think about the airport business until you've earned a million dollars.

However, once the air force is established, it will be very useful.

Brandon also fell into deep thought.

Milton, willing to sacrifice his dignity for money, said, "How about we release another message saying that one of our core members has been attacked and is undergoing surgery in the hospital, while also writing in the newspapers that 'Hell's Tax Collectors' are outraged by this behavior? What do you think?"

“Give the bounty hunters some hope. Tell them our core members aren’t that hard to kill. If they succeed, they’ll get all the bounties from the Sinaloa Group and become rich. What do you say?”

As someone who cares a bit about his image, Milton didn't really want to have his powerless statement published in the newspaper.

In such situations, Milton would typically respond with napalm rather than criticizing anyone in the newspapers.

But for the sake of the airport, for tax revenue, for more money, it's okay to make such a small sacrifice of myself.

Olya, who had been engrossed in writing, nodded: "Yes, I can produce such a report."

“Very good… From today onwards, our town will be the biggest pig butchering scam.” Milton laughed. “However, we can’t just sit here and take the hits; we have to take the initiative.”

"Moreover, we have recruited so many new people, and we need to train them."

Flora, who had been dozing off nearby, suddenly perked up, her eyes widening as she asked, "Are we going to fight? When will it start, and who will we fight?"

To be honest, the work of capturing slaves was quite interesting at first, with a unique kind of pleasure, but it was very repetitive, and the similarity of each job was astonishing, so it quickly became boring.

The same goes for the bounty hunters. They are basically spotted by surveillance cameras all over the streets and alleys as soon as they enter the town. They are caught by the police and handed over to the slave-catching team after taking only a few steps.

It's really not very interesting.

“We’re definitely going to attack Lyman’s checkpoint,” Milton chuckled. “He’s been robbing our trade routes, so I’ll give him a taste of his own medicine.”

Flora asked, "It's just an outer attack? I thought you were going to attack his checkpoint directly."

“It’s not that simple.” Milton shook his head. “The reason we were able to take down Van Congbang and the checkpoint so smoothly with zero casualties is simply because we gained air superiority and information advantage.”

"If we were to launch a preemptive attack on someone else, especially if the enemy likely has air defense capabilities, the losses could be substantial."

"Let's first use this attack to assess the enemy's strengths and weaknesses, and then devise a strategy for attack that minimizes the cost."

"My plan is this: first, use rocket artillery to cover the enemy's possible air defense positions, then let the air force enter and take out their high-value targets, and finally let the armored units enter to finish off the remaining infantry."

While Milton can no longer exchange for a real large-caliber howitzer, the suppressive power of the 107mm howitzer is very close.

“A plan is a plan, but we still need a real test.” Flora nodded. “I understand what you mean.”

“That’s right, we should show these greenhorns what real combat looks like… Most importantly, if we can capture an enemy stronghold and force the entire enemy force to surrender, how happy would the slave-hunting team be?”

Flora scoffed, "You used to at least try to cover it up by saying you were part of the transport team, but now you're too lazy to even pretend, are you?"

“I’m actually quite curious too, who exactly is buying our ‘goods’,” Milton said. “It feels like the power that has so much cash flow and dares to take on so many ‘goods’ is not to be underestimated. They must have a lot of money in their pockets and can definitely collect a ton of taxes.”

"Who cares... Why don't you go ask 'Ghost Wolf'?"

Milton shook his head: "'Ghost Wolf' may not know either, just as the buyer may not know our identities."

“Indeed…” Flora frowned. “Let’s leave that aside for now. What’s our next objective? How do you plan to disrupt Lyman’s outer trade routes? Should we just attack passing caravans?”

“That’s fine.” Milton shook his head. “Although Lyman’s checkpoint is not a good place, many of the people passing through are innocent, especially those who are willing to take this route. They are probably all so poor that they have no other choice.”

“There are definitely vicious smugglers in the convoy, but there are also many legitimate business people. Let’s not attack them indiscriminately.”

Flora nodded gently: "I knew it. Although your style of doing things may seem like that of a typical villain, you are definitely a good person, absolutely."

Milton squinted and leaned back in his chair: "Stop talking nonsense... This time I plan to attack one of his outposts, on the Mexican side. We won't attack his caravans, but we can attack the armed forces protecting them."

Brandon thought for a moment and agreed, saying, "Yes, as long as we take down their armed forces, their business will definitely be affected—no one will believe that a bunch of people who can't even protect themselves can protect them."

Although the checkpoints in Malacan are frequently reported in the news for robberies, Milton's armed forces have never lost a battle.

Milton continued, "I've looked at the map. There's a stream and a bridge on their trade route. Lyman sent a lot of men to protect it. We'll attack that place later, and it would be best if we could blow up the bridge."

The stream isn't large, so even if the bridge is destroyed, there's still a way to cross, but that would greatly reduce travel efficiency.

It was definitely a huge blow to the enemy.

"Okay, then let's get ready to move out."

……

Southern checkpoint, sentry post.

Station Chief Lyman's deputy, Green, was inspecting this crucial point for them—the highway not only had a bridge, but it was also in a good location, allowing for quick support from anywhere.

The only drawback is that the terrain isn't very good, making it somewhat easy to attack but difficult to defend.

To solve this problem, Lyman spent a lot of money to build a sentry post here and sent a large number of armed personnel to guard it.

"Boss, I heard we had a conflict with the checkpoint to the north?" a guard asked worriedly. "Will they come and attack us?"

"Don't be afraid!" Green waved his hand confidently. "Look at your body armor, look at your new guns, look at these heavy machine guns, look at those rocket launchers on the ground. What are they going to do about it?"

"Our terrain makes us impossible to snipe from a distance. If Milton's armored vehicles want to hit us, they'll be within our firing range as well. Who's afraid of who?"

Green breathed a confident sigh of relief and then looked toward a nearby dungeon.

Inside was a small freezer filled with corpses—the mysterious seller had recently shipped out a large quantity, making them a fortune. With more corpses and goods, Green could buy even better weapons, and perhaps before long, they would have the capability to launch a preemptive attack on Milton.

"We need to get this batch of goods later..."

Before he could finish speaking, Green's gaze suddenly froze.

A whole bunch of "shooting stars" appeared in the sky at some unknown time, trailing trails of flame as they "slowly" flew over.

The others weren't blind either; they saw what happened.

Although these "shooting stars" appear slow in our field of vision, our legs can't outrun them!
"Hide! Find cover! Quick!"

"Enemy attack!"

boom! ! !
The sound of explosions completely drowned out his voice. A machine gun turret next to the outpost was buried by 107mm rockets, and even the small mound on which the turret was built was leveled.

Dozens of rockets rained down, and a machine gun turret was reduced to ashes.

And they didn't even know where those rockets came from!
These rockets bypassed all terrain and attacked using indirect fire... Green's powerful equipment was completely useless!

They can't even see the enemy!
The only good news is that the enemy seems to have missed their target in this round of fire and did not hit the outpost itself.

"Hide! Everyone hide! Hide behind cover, behind the fortifications! Grab your guns!"

Green exhaled and said fiercely, "It must be Milton coming to attack us... Let him attack first, let's see how many rocket launchers he has!"

The people at the checkpoint were filled with anxiety, but they could only obey orders, grab their weapons, and find cover to hide.

Not long after, another barrage of rockets rained down from the sky.

Boom boom boom!
This time they were even closer to the outpost; several rockets had even been fired, killing and injuring a few unfortunate men.

The screams coming from beside him made Green both panicked and annoyed.

"Where did this weapon come from? Is there any logic to this?! How could anyone hit it from this far away?!"

What's the point of fighting? Just let one side take the beating.

The frustration and disgust of not even knowing where the enemy was was more repulsive to Green than Milton himself.

When have they ever seen this kind of play?
In the past, didn't it always involve a few people rushing out and exchanging gunfire? At most, a few pickup trucks would drive over, armed with machine guns and RPGs.

When will war break out so badly that you can't even see people anymore?

Boom boom boom...

As Green cursed under his breath, the rocket barrage continued, wave after wave, until it covered the entire outpost.

Even if they hid behind fortifications or in low-lying areas, at least half of the people in the camp would still die from the shockwave and overpressure.

Even a person not far from Green was blown up, his body was broken in two, and even the excrement in his stomach was blown out and smeared all over Green.

"Disgusting stuff!" Green cursed, ignoring the ringing in his ears and dizziness. "You're going to war before you've emptied your belly!"

After four rounds of barrage, the terrifying, continuous explosions gradually subsided.

Green swayed as he got up, gagged twice, and shouted, "They've run out of shells! Everyone, get your weapons out, get your RPGs out! Let's fight them!"

"Yes……"

The other survivor picked up the RPG and stood up unsteadily.

The next second, his upper body disappeared, turning into a cloud of blood mist.

"Puff puff puff puff..."

Immediately following was the sound of anti-aircraft guns firing in rapid succession.

While the enemy was being bombed, Milton had already deployed modified self-propelled anti-aircraft guns and infantry fighting vehicles to the front lines and gain a superior position!

Anyone who dares to show their face will die!
Morale at Green Outpost has completely collapsed.

"We surrender, we surrender..."

Being bombarded unilaterally is extremely demoralizing, and when a chance to retaliate is finally given, the moment they stand up, they are turned into a pile of minced meat...

How is this played?
The enemy hasn't suffered a single loss!
"Surrender my ass!" Green immediately retorted. "Haven't you heard of the 'Hell's Tax Collector'? Have you ever heard of anyone who surrendered having a good ending with him?"

"But if we don't surrender, we're doomed! They've already deployed armored vehicles and snipers; if we go out, we're dead!"

"And I've heard that the 'Hell Tax Collector' isn't so cruel. As long as you pay his taxes, you still have a chance to survive."

Green gritted his teeth in anger—he certainly knew these people had a point.

The problem is, he was Lyman's right-hand man!

Others can surrender, but can he?
Milton might spare others, but he would never spare him.

"Listen to me..."

bang bang...

As soon as Green opened his mouth, he saw two stun grenades being thrown in.

boom!boom!
The intense light and noise pierced Green's pupils and eardrums. His condition was already poor due to the rocket explosion, and after being hit by two stun grenades, he collapsed, leaving him with only a sliver of consciousness.

The sound of rapid footsteps approached, and in less than 10 seconds, the enemy had occupied the entire camp and taken everyone into custody.

Among them, he also heard Milton's familiar voice—everyone knew his voice since that "public trial."

Milton walked to the middle of the outpost and criticized, "You made a big mistake. After the first rocket launcher went astray, you still couldn't get it fully calibrated by the third shot? We still need more training."

Flora then said, "That's good enough... This is their first time using this kind of weapon, so it's quite good that they've done this well."

"Okay, you're right..."

"Quickly bring that 50kg aerial bomb over and blow up the bridge's support structure. Split up and hurry, enemy reinforcements are coming soon, don't fight a positional war."

"Roger that!"

"..."

Brandon glanced toward the camp and volunteered, "I'll go see if they have anything good stored here."

Milton glanced at them and frowned. "They all look like a bunch of broken guns and barrels, and many of them are damaged... Hmm, I see tandem armor-piercing warheads. Lopez and Lyman are indeed preparing to target my armored vehicles."

"Not necessarily. There's a cellar here. Let me see what's inside... Holy crap."

When the cellar was opened, Brandon stood there dumbfounded, even rubbing his eyes.

Milton instinctively raised his gun, frowning as he asked, "What's wrong?"

"Boss...you, come and take a look. I think I know who the buyer of our previous 'goods' was."

Milton didn't understand at first, and as he stepped forward, he asked, "What 'goods'? What buyer? What are you talking about? What kind of business are you talking about?"

Until he looked down into the cellar and saw those "familiar faces" in the freezer.

Not long ago, these faces were on his slave wagon!
"What the hell? You're telling me our spoils are this? Exported and then re-imported, huh?"

(End of this chapter)