Taxes are only within machine gun range!

Chapter 128 He's God After Paying Taxes
Tomorrow we're going to attack Lyman's checkpoint. It was clearly Raymond who gave Lyman false information!
“‘The Godfather’ probably wanted to quickly spread the word about what just happened, so that Lyman would know he received fake news,” Olya said after thinking for a moment. “Then, we’ll turn the fake into the real, which is to put it bluntly, it’s still a sneak attack.”

"Sure! But, boss, are you sure you have the time? Or are you planning to release this news tonight?"

Lopez and Lyman had almost no understanding of "information." Despite the town being ablaze right now, it might take them three or four days to find out about it.

Milton said, "We definitely can't rush to release them tonight, otherwise Lyman will still be wary of us. We have to make Lyman think that I'm still in town."

"Go to the studio now and record a video, then release it tomorrow as a live broadcast. Remember to change the date and time exactly."

"I need to make Lyman think I'm still broadcasting live from town."

Flora nodded: "That's good, that should catch him off guard."

“But the effect might not be very strong,” Milton cautioned. “Don’t forget what ‘Ghost Wolf’ told us: the howitzers Lopez bought will arrive in about a month at most. If Lyman can hold out until the howitzers arrive, we’ll be the ones in a passive position.”

Milton had a base of operations, he wasn't a guerrilla, and he didn't want his town to be bombarded.

"So, it means he'll remain on high alert for the next month because for Lyman, if he just grits his teeth and holds out for a month, things will be peaceful afterward, so he won't let his guard down too much, right?"

Anyway, you only need to hold on for a month. Just to be on the safe side, no matter what happens, just keep your defenses up to the maximum.

If it were Milton, he would definitely do the same.

“That’s right.” Milton nodded. “Let’s finish the interviews first, and then we’ll prepare for the attack.”

"it is good!"

The armored vehicle quickly returned to the police station.

Milton immediately got out of the car, took a shower, changed into a new set of clothes, and cleaned himself thoroughly.

Milton mustn't let anyone know he got caught in the rain, otherwise it'll be obvious if the rain stops tomorrow.

Soon, everyone else had also completed a similar "disguise".

The group quickly arrived at the interview room—in order to make the propaganda work look professional, Milton had specially designed such a room in the police station, with a podium and several rows of seats to accommodate the reporters.

To make the act more realistic, Milton also had Olya bring several more media staff members to pretend to be other reporters and rush to ask questions.

Soon, the interview setup was complete.

Milton stepped onto the podium, while Brandon stood beside him, his eyes fixed straight ahead.

Click click click...

Flashes of light kept hitting Milton's face.

"Mr. Milton, I have a problem! I have a problem!"

"Director, could you please answer everyone's questions...?"

"Excuse me……"

Milton slammed his hand on the table, pointed at Olya, and said, "Quiet down, other reporters. You, the reporter over there, you ask your question."

Olya immediately stood up, picked up the microphone, and asked, "We have just learned that you executed a clergyman. Do you believe his crimes deserved such punishment?"

This is a classic example of defining the nature of the problem first.

Once it was confirmed that the clergyman had committed a crime, the question was only about the means of punishment.

“We were in a hurry at the time, so the video footage was incomplete,” Milton said slowly. “We have sufficient evidence that Raymond was involved in at least 100 murders, directly causing at least 20 deaths, and committed varying degrees of assault against the female victims.”

"Most importantly, Raymond has a huge amount of income that he has not paid taxes on, which is a shameful act of theft and must be severely punished."

“Since he is a devout clergyman and has confessed to his crimes, I think it is reasonable for him to be punished as mentioned in the Bible.”

Aurelia nodded and then asked, "You just mentioned 'taxation,' and I have another question about that. In most regions, church assets are not taxed. In the regions you rule, will you amend the relevant laws?"

In fact, not taxing Catholic Church assets is implemented in many places, even in the United States.

The Vatican, the headquarters of the Catholic Church, has signed religious and political agreements with many countries, and church assets often enjoy tax-free treatment.

Why are so many houses in the United States made of wood, but churches are usually made of reinforced concrete?
Because churches don't pay property taxes, they can use large sums of money to repair houses without worrying about subsequent costs.

“Yes,” Milton replied with absolute certainty. “You saw it in that report, how much money and gold we seized from the church… Such a wealthy institution doesn’t pay taxes, but instead makes the homeless pay taxes? Here, everyone is treated equally.”

“I can respect the secular church, but only if the secular church also respects me.”

Aurelia nodded slightly and continued, "This approach doesn't seem to fit the situation in other regions. Are you worried about pressure from outside, especially from the Vatican?"

Milton chuckled dismissively: "Remember, in my territory, even God has to pay taxes... no, he can only be God if he pays taxes."

Even though the people below were all hired actors, their expressions became quite interesting upon hearing this.

This is almost a direct statement: "I also grant God's authority!"
too crazy!

The interview ended after that sentence.

But many people were still in shock, as if they weren't actors, but real reporters who had been invited there.

"Alright, everyone disperse." Milton clapped his hands and praised Olya, "The people you found are very good. Their acting skills are excellent, and they look just like the real thing."

No... they might not be acting, it's just that what you said was too shocking.

Aurelia muttered to herself, then said, "Hmm... this content will probably be released around 9 a.m. tomorrow, is that okay?"

“No problem.” Milton nodded, stepped out of the interview room, and said, “The rest of you, follow me and prepare for the attack! Take Lyman’s checkpoint!”

All the armored units in the town have now assembled and are waiting in front of the police station.

There were also many trucks loaded with supplies nearby.

Milton, Brandon, Flora, and all the other core combat personnel boarded armored vehicles and headed towards the checkpoint.

Before setting off, Milton once again reminded him: "Don't think about playing any complicated tactics."

"The sentries disperse to scout ahead, the armored vehicles are at the forefront, destroying any suspicious targets, and the infantry follow behind to complete the final cleanup."

"The artillery will fire the simplest creeping barrage from behind, ensuring you always maintain a numerical advantage. Understand?"

"They should have their air defenses ready. Our 'air force' can't bomb from the start, but it can conduct sustained aerial reconnaissance missions. Our ammunition reserves aren't particularly full, so we need a certain level of precision. Do you understand?"

"understand!"

"Okay, let's go."

A basic semi-mechanized and semi-motorized unit consisting of 8 armored vehicles, 10 bulletproof vehicles, and 20 107mm guns set off.

All infantrymen were transported by vehicles, and all rocket launchers were transported by vehicles.

……

The next morning, Station Master Lyman, who hadn't slept all night, squatted in the basement of the checkpoint, anxiously checking the various facilities there.

"Hurry, hurry! Milton is about to attack! Quick, bring everything in!"

The news of Milton's impending attack came too suddenly, and Lehmann's preparations were not actually that thorough.

It's not that his defensive preparations were insufficient, but rather that his own means of survival were inadequate.

He built two underground safe houses, one at the checkpoint and the other in the town.

Logically, it should contain enough food, water, entertainment facilities to last a month, and even a few women and the aforementioned items they need.

Actually, he had already stocked up on almost everything.

However, Milton had recently launched a massive attack on his trade routes, causing prices of various goods to skyrocket. Lyman felt that Milton's full-scale offensive was still premature, so he decided to sell these supplies at a high price to make some money.

This despicable behavior has left him without enough supplies for a month of underground living.

"Hurry up, after we fill this basement, there's still that safe house in town!"

"Check the ventilation in the tunnel!"

After the war began, Lyman planned to stay in the safe house at the checkpoint and not step out, in order to ensure his survival.

With such deep underground fortifications, even if Milton's air force could break through the anti-aircraft fire and drop napalm bombs, it wouldn't pose a threat to him.

Even if Milton were truly incredibly powerful and managed to breach the checkpoint's impenetrable defenses within a month, he could easily escape through the basement and reach another safe house in town.

Lyman was prepared to fight Milton to the bitter end.

Although it wasn't him who died.

Just then, a subordinate ran in, his face a mixture of joy and worry: "Station Master, Station Master, there's new information!"

"What new information?!" Lyman sounded extremely impatient. "Can't you see I'm busy here?"

"The TV station over there in Milton has started filming again, and Milton seems to be giving an interview right now. Would you like to go check it out?"

Lyman was a little confused: "What? Milton is being interviewed? Shouldn't he be sitting in a helicopter right now, preparing to attack me?"

Is it too late to give an interview now?

But he knew Raymond well, and knew that this man was deeply connected with his side of the power structure and was trustworthy.

Therefore, Raymond wouldn't lie to himself...

it means……

Lyman immediately stood up and said, "Quick, take me to see TV!"

Soon, Lyman ran to the recreation room in the basement, turned on the television, and tuned to Milton's Malacan TV station.

At that moment, the news anchor was broadcasting the news with a serious expression.

"Last night, the local tax authority, in conjunction with the police, cracked a major smuggling and murder case! The case involves clergy and has caused a huge uproar in the local community."

"The following is footage taken by our reporter on the scene..."

Lyman stared at the television screen with a grim expression, watching Milton utter extremely humiliating and blasphemous words to a clergyman.

Especially that punishment that even humiliated God himself. Wasn't he omniscient and omnipotent? How could he not even predict whether he himself would be shot?

Oh, the second shot was accurate, very accurate.

At the end of the scene, the priest is nailed to the cross, turned over, and burned alive in the rain, under the "tears" of the statue. This is a shocking and profound experience for Catholic believers.

No, even the church itself was burning fiercely!

Those who had come with Lyman to watch television even started to tremble.

In their eyes, Malakan is the legendary hell!

God sent down heavy rain, but could not save his people!

Milton can kill whomever he wants.

And soon after, Milton was coming to kill them...

“Hell! That must be hell!” someone shouted. “Milton has turned that town into hell, he’s a hell tax collector…”

"God, God..."

"He must be an emissary of Satan. Can we hold out for a month?"

"..."

The scene was terrifying and shocking, but... coincidentally, Lyman was not a Catholic.

Although the impact was strong, that wasn't what Lyman was thinking about.

"He's God after he pays his taxes... Good, good!" Lyman nodded vigorously. "Milton, that madman, is even crazier than I imagined!"

"No wonder Milton was able to participate in the interview. It turns out he deliberately spread false information and then used that false information to arrest Raymond."

Lyman read the entire report and Milton's entire interview.

As for the subsequent news content, Lyman didn't care much.

He turned off the TV and waved to his men to calm down.

"In other words, the news that Milton was coming to beat me up today was actually false; we were just scaring ourselves."

"I knew it! How could it happen so quickly and suddenly, without any warning?"

"I scared myself..."

The others still looked worried: "Stationmaster, should we have those people in front withdraw?"

Lyman's defensive setup was actually quite simple.

He constructed three lines of defense. The first line was pushed outwards as far as possible, and the cannon fodder deployed there were also dispersed as much as possible. The second line of defense was the real main force.

The checkpoint, located outside the range of the 107mm artillery, was responsible for transporting supplies to the front lines.

When Milton's men bombard the first line of defense, let the cannon fodder hold the line first. If they die, so be it. After the bombardment ends and Milton's infantry arrives, the mobile forces of the second line of defense will then move forward to fill the gaps.

After repelling the enemy, the main force withdrew to the second line of defense.

In short, the goal is to prevent Milton's long-range firepower from threatening his main force, and only follow up when Milton's main force attacks the defensive line—Milton can't exactly bombard his own men, can he?

Lyman has a numerical advantage; he can afford to lose men and can fill the first line of defense with cannon fodder!
Trench warfare combined with defense in depth—this was a tactic he had painstakingly developed, which he considered extremely advanced and difficult to break through. (Note 1)

Let Milton gnaw on it slowly.

Anyway, he thought he could manage for a month without any problem.

Even if all else fails, there's always street fighting.

"Stationmaster, Stationmaster? Should we withdraw the soldiers in front?"

"Why retreat? Just leave it there." Lyman waved his hand. "Notify the front lines to relax and allow them to rest in shifts. Milton probably won't attack today, but that day isn't far off... Everyone still needs to be prepared for war."

“Everyone else, you move the stuff. I am your brain. My safe house must be secure.”

"Yes!"

Soon, they were busy again.

This time, however, everyone slowed down considerably and felt much more relaxed.

Many of the personnel responsible for guarding the checkpoint went straight back to their dormitories, covered themselves with blankets, and started sleeping.

The entire battlefront suddenly felt much lighter.

"..."

……

At this moment, Lehmann's first line of defense.

It must be said that the complex mountainous terrain of San Marcos province gave Lyman a great advantage. If it were a wide, open plain, his small number of men would not have been able to fill the defensive line at all.

Milton's vehicles could bypass his lines as easily as they bypassed the Maginot Line.

But now, the people he temporarily brought in are enough to fill the gaps.

The low-ranking police officers and gang members who were brought in as cannon fodder were huddled in makeshift trenches, eating extremely unpalatable compressed biscuits with just water.

This is their military rations.

It was almost noon, and the scorching sun made them restless.

"Didn't they say Milton was going to call today? It's already noon, why haven't we seen a single person yet?!"

"Could that idiot Lyman have received fake news?"

“There’s still half a day to go, don’t be in a hurry.” A gang member sat on the ground, looking at the bubbling biscuit porridge in the broken pot, and shook his head. “It’s already quite accurate for Lyman to get information like ‘attack today’. It’s basically impossible to get it down to the hour.”

"The main issue is, why are we positioned at the front? Why are those armored vehicles at the back? I heard Milton's firepower is formidable; they should be at the front!"

"Yeah, all we have are these few broken guns, some of them are semi-automatic and can't fire in bursts! When I came over, I saw that the people behind us were even wearing bulletproof vests!"

"Who cares? I'm just here to make money. I'll run away as soon as Milton attacks... Anyway, Lyman probably doesn't really intend to rely on us to beat Milton."

“I’m Mexican, I’m not going to work for Lyman.”

“I’m in a worse situation than you. I’m a police officer in town, and I was sleeping with a girl when Lyman forcibly dragged me here.”

"Damn it, if it weren't for the heavy machine guns behind us, I would have definitely run away."

"I don't think those heavy machine guns are meant to be used against Milton, they're meant to be used against us..."

"..."

Just as these people were complaining, a well-equipped man wearing a steel helmet walked over.

This is the "person in charge" of this defense line. Although he has no military rank and is just a nobody, he always likes to be called "Second Lieutenant".

Originally, after arriving at this defensive line, he had been hiding in the temporary bunker with a large pile of canned food that looked pretty good, and had never shown his face once.

Many people also mocked him for being a coward.

What's going on now? How dare he come out?
The lieutenant clapped his hands, looking quite pleased with himself: "Alright, I just received a message from Mr. Lyman. That coward Milton, seeing that we've built up our defenses, doesn't dare to attack us anymore, hahaha!"

Milton won't be coming today, but he might come back in the future, so I hope everyone stays on guard. As long as you stay here, Mr. Lyman's salary will arrive in your hands on time every week.

"Now, you can relax and rest, but remember, only those who rest halfway must keep the other half awake, understand? If you're really sleepy, swallow a small piece of that ice-like thing, called, called, methyl what I don't know either, but you just need to know that the Germans used this to make the French surrender in 42 days."

"Hahaha... They were scared away just by seeing us. This 'Hell Tax Collector' is nothing special."

"In any case, this is a victory, a victory for each and every one of us. Everyone can relax a little now."

After saying that, the lieutenant chuckled easily, turned around, and carried some food out of his bunker.

Then several of his confidants started a fire nearby, seemingly wanting to have a fun picnic and barbecue.

"Why is there so much smoke? You idiot!"

"Chop some wood, stuff it into these metal boxes, poke a hole in each box, and throw it in to roast. We need to make some charcoal first, otherwise it'll just be smoke..."

"Ask those people in the back for some raw meat. We need to enjoy ourselves tonight, otherwise we won't have this chance when the war starts again."

"..."

After several hours of frantic activity amidst the smoke, the "Second Lieutenant" finally managed to produce enough charcoal, and the soldier who had gone to the back to ask for raw meat returned with the supplies.

"'Second Lieutenant', everything has arrived."

"Great!" The "lieutenant" glanced at the sky, stretched lazily with obvious enjoyment, and said, "Bring the drinks over, let's have a fun barbecue party!"

It was evening, the sun had just set, and both the timing and the atmosphere were perfect for a barbecue party.

The aroma of meat wafted everywhere, making the filling-in-the-blank children drool.

"eat!"

"What are you eating? The meat isn't cooked yet."

"Don't rush... Let's have some tea first. Oh God, look at the scenery, look how beautiful the meteor shower is today!"

"Huh? A meteor shower?!"

The next second, the "meteor shower" from the sky crashed straight toward the fire, and the entire position was engulfed in flames. Those who were just roasting meat turned into roast meat in an instant!

Boom! Boom…

Note 1: Tactics of World War I.

P.S.: I can't hold it in anymore. Smuggling large and small commodities from Mexico is now making more money than smuggling drugs. It's unbelievable. Reality is far more magical than fiction.

(End of this chapter)