Taxes are only within machine gun range!

Chapter 130 You want to play street fighting with me?

The next morning.

The army has essentially captured the first line of defense and cleared the surrounding area.

Milton stood at the foot of the first line of defense that had already fallen, looking around and asking, "Where is Lyman's army? Where are Lyman's elite troops? Where are Lyman's reinforcements? Why haven't I seen anything after a whole day?"

Flora sat on the ground, staring at the broken bottles of liquor, and sighed. "The scouts have sent back uncertain intelligence. After hearing that we had taken this line of defense, Lyman immediately moved all the elite troops from the original second line of defense back to the checkpoint, filling the original second line of defense with Line Filler Babies."

"Lyman just sat there watching his first line of defense and 50 men evaporate without putting up any resistance?" Milton shook his head with a laugh. "Our advance barrage is actually quite weak. If he chooses to provide support, it could really cause us considerable losses."

"In that case, even if all his elite troops are wiped out, it will still cost us a great deal to take over the rest of his territory."

"Moreover, withdrawing like this will have a significant impact on the morale of our troops."

Nonsense, everyone knows now that if you're at a disadvantage, don't even think about getting support from the rear. Lyman will just lead his elite troops on a victorious retreat to the rear.

Flora nodded slightly: "And as you speculated before, Lyman's orders were to hold out for a month... but in just one day, one of the so-called three lines of defense has collapsed. What a shock this must be to the enemy!"

"One can imagine how terrified those who were thrown into the second line of defense must be right now."

"What method do you plan to use to attack the second line of defense?"

Milton thought for a moment and said, "Let's try creating an atmosphere of terror and see if we can make them break down on their own... Don't we have a sniper team? Let them take the lead and kill anyone they see."

"Don't you like to use cannon fodder to fill the gaps and leave the elites behind? Then don't blame me for taking all the cannon fodder."

Judging from the weapons and equipment captured from the first line of defense, Lyman didn't prepare sniper rifles or similar weapons for the cannon fodder at all.

They were all armed with rifles and RPGs, with maybe a few heavy machine guns in fixed positions.

Against a professional sniper, this is practically a complete hunting game.

Milton continued, "Let's inflict more casualties, keep the enemy in a state of absolute fear 24 hours a day, and see if we can make them break down on their own."

It seems exaggerated and absurd that the enemy can be driven to collapse simply by creating an atmosphere of terror and killing people with snipers.

But in fact, this is not surprising in the vast majority of countries.

For example, in the war between Tanzania and Uganda in Africa, an average of 1% casualties would cause the army to begin an unstoppable rout.

What concept?
In a company-sized unit, if even one person dies, the entire company collapses!

This is still regular army against regular army!

Even if Milton's opponents are determined enough, their morale will collapse after losing 10 men, and they will eventually have the idea of ​​running away.
If the fleeing soldiers are worried about the "supervisory team," then the sniper can "kindly" help them take out the machine gun position so they can escape with peace of mind, right?
“If all else fails, then we’ll fight again according to today’s plan.” Milton glanced at his scoreboard. “Let’s regroup here for a while and wait for the supplies to arrive.”

In order to take over Lyman's checkpoint, Milton spent a whopping 1500 million red points to buy armored vehicles, protective gear, and various weapons, while the ordinary points used to buy ammunition exceeded 2000 million.

The reason why so much red points were spent was that Milton spent a lot of money to purchase a very rudimentary medical helicopter, which was converted from a Bell 206 helicopter.

If there are wounded, they can receive first aid as quickly as possible and then be taken to a hospital in the rear.

Even a battle this small in scale is so expensive to fight.

Flora stood up and dusted herself off: "Okay, I'll make the arrangements."

Milton turned his head to look at the emergency medical team on the side.

Although the battle went much more smoothly than planned, casualties were still inevitable.

The indiscriminate firing by gangsters, grenade fragments, RPG explosions, and other sources ultimately resulted in nine casualties among the attacking force.

Five people sustained minor injuries, three sustained serious injuries, and one died.

At that moment, Olya was wearing a helmet and equally heavy bulletproof gear, shouting loudly into the microphone of the camera.

The surrounding noise was too loud, so she had to raise her voice.

"Viewers, this is Malacan TV. I'm your reporter, Olya. We're near a checkpoint in the southern part of San Marcos province. Here, police officers are facing fierce resistance from armed groups involved in human organ trafficking."

"This has resulted in the casualties of nine brave police officers, one of whom has tragically died in the line of duty."

"But Director Brandon made a declaration that no matter what resistance he encountered, he would eradicate these parasitic tumors that were growing on the whole country."

At this moment, the doctor who used to run an illegal clinic, now the hospital director, walked over, looking anxious.

"Hey you guys, make way! There's an injured person, move aside!"

"The injured person has lost too much blood and is going into shock. He needs a blood transfusion. Quickly, get him onto the helicopter!"

"quick!"

Milton looked away and gazed at the corpse lying on the ground.

"A brave soldier, does anyone know him?"

Olya immediately turned the camera towards her.

Brandon leaned forward to get a good look at his face, thought for a moment, and said, "I, I know him... Boss, before you came to this town, he had been arrested and imprisoned several times for theft."

"Before he became despondent, he had children and a wife, but they both died from a serious illness, which led to him... well."

Before boarding the helicopter, the new hospital director glanced in this direction and said, "I remember him. He came to see me with his wife and children. I told him it was just a very common minor illness."

"Later, it seems that the insurance company suddenly said that this disease could be covered, so he had his wife and daughter go to a private hospital for treatment... although I don't know where this insurance came from."

Ultimately, the surgery failed.

"Well... until Mr. 'Godfather' exposed the hospital's affairs, the cause of death for his wife and children was always the failure of surgery."

"..."

After saying that, he boarded the helicopter and left the front line.

Milton paused for a moment, then crouched down and pulled a note from his body.

This is Milton's requirement for all soldiers—before going into battle, they must write their will, carrying one copy with them and leaving another copy at the checkpoint as a backup.

The above content is very simple.

“Lopez killed my wife, killed my children, and yet I still have to vote for him.”

"I'm going to kill him!"

"If I die because of this, please bury my body in the central church and donate my money to the church. I hope my soul can find peace under God's watchful eye..."

This sentence has obvious signs of being crossed out.

The following is the altered content.

"If I die because of this, please bury my body on the battlefield and use my money to buy bullets to shoot at Lopez. Since I am already in hell, I hope the flames of the 'Hell Tax Collector' can burn away all this filth."

Everyone fell silent.

Milton, however, after reading it, placed the short suicide note in front of the camera.

"Do you see them? Those people still suffering, do you see them?"

"A former thief is now a great warrior, willing to sacrifice his life to eradicate evil! He was clearly a kind and righteous person, so why did he have to make a living by stealing before?!"

"How desperate was this soldier, from pleading for the church's mercy to asking that bullets be fired at Lopez?"

"What went wrong?"

"Think about it, how many hours do you work a day, yet you're still poor, still burdened with high-interest loans, still unable to afford even bread; while those who do nothing and enjoy vast wealth keep telling you that you're not working hard enough, that you need to work even harder..."

"No! They lied to you! Look closely, how many corpses are buried beneath Raymond's cross? True holiness is not in churches, true greatness is not in those corrupt officials who demand protection money from you, but in us who fight for survival!"

“The good also have the right to use bullets to seek justice. Look at the scene today, your enemies are all-powerful—until you raise your weapons.”

"Tonight, let the enemy's cries be the requiem for the fallen! Tomorrow, our children will live in a world where they need not write wills!"

"Here, I appeal to everyone, to everyone who is dissatisfied with the status quo and still has a shred of conscience..."

"If you dare not charge with the flag, then carry your shield and follow closely; if you cannot even lift your shield, then stand on the sidelines and cheer for your soldiers; if you do not even have the courage to cheer, then sit at home and silently await victory." "..."

……

Half a day later, at the southern checkpoint.

Lyman stood in his basement, his face ashen, watching the television as Milton delivered a speech from the so-called impregnable defensive line.

"Jain, have you packed everything?" Lyman gritted his teeth. "If you have, then retreat to the safe house in town!"

one day.

That much-anticipated defensive line ultimately delivered a response of "one day".

How long can the second line of defense hold?
How long can his so-called elite troops hold out against Milton?

How many more days can the checkpoint itself hold out?
I originally thought I had a numerical advantage and a defensive advantage, and that even if we couldn't fight back and forth, at most I would be at a slight disadvantage.

To everyone's surprise, Milton swept through the first line of defense with overwhelming force.

His original plan—that when the first line of defense was attacked, he would send all mobile forces to support it and engage Milton in hand-to-hand combat—failed from the start.

Because the frontline command post was destroyed.

After the first line of defense completely collapsed, the commanders on the second line of defense were completely unaware!

The newly appointed deputy station chief of the southern checkpoint, Jaen, nodded, touched the scar on his eyelid, and said, "Everything is ready, station chief. We can retreat now."

Lyman nodded, still shaken, and said, "We absolutely cannot win in open battle, absolutely not. All our elite troops will retreat into the town. I want to fight in urban warfare. I want Milton to fight street by street, building by building!"

"I want to turn Akoch into a bloody mess."

"I don't believe it can't even be dragged out for a month."

"Let the second line of defense hold out for a bit, buy some time, and get all of us and all our equipment back into the city."

As for Milton's remarks on television, Lyman barely listened.

In his view, these things were completely unimportant.

The cowardly, useless townspeople of Akoch, who only deserve to kneel and lick his boots, whom he can kill or sell at will, never dared to resist him before, and never will.

As for the logistical supply problem after a month of street fighting, that's even simpler.

Aren't there so many townspeople? Just robbing a little bit will be enough.

If it really isn’t enough, can’t the townspeople themselves be considered a kind of logistical supply, or a kind of food?
In Lyman's calculations, there was only ever how strong Milton's men were and how many guns Milton had.

And that one month that was enough to save his life.

Hang in there for a month, everything will be alright!
Soon, his core members left the checkpoint through the underground passage in the basement. After walking along the not-so-narrow passage for a while, they finally reached the end.

It only takes three minutes to drive from here to the town.

Lyman and his deputy stationmaster, Jain, pushed open the heavy iron door of the cellar—a convoy fully loaded with supplies was waiting for him there.

The reason Lyman insisted on going through the tunnel instead of leaving at the checkpoint was that he was worried Milton would take advantage of the situation to attack the checkpoint and blow him up.

In short, he wouldn't give Milton any chance at all.

As Jain got into the car, he said, "Stationmaster, rest assured, your safe house is incredibly sturdy and located in the heart of town. No matter which direction Milton attacks from, he won't be able to get close to you immediately."

"Food, water, entertainment, and means of communication with the outside world are all provided, and there is a backup set for each."

"Enough to power an independent generator and fuel for a month..."

“There were even gas masks and oxygen cylinders.”

"There's a very, very thick iron door outside. We once fired 10 shots with an RPG, and it didn't budge an inch. Even if Milton, that madman, wanted to launch a blitzkrieg against you, it wouldn't work. Instead, we would attack you from both sides."

“There are a lot of anti-personnel mines buried nearby. I heard that Milton himself has made such things. Let him experience the feeling of stepping on a mine!”

Lyman listened with great satisfaction: "What about the street defenses?"

Jaen laughed out loud: "Stationmaster, you don't need to worry about that at all. Machine guns and rocket launchers are set up at every important street intersection. As soon as Milton drove the armored vehicle in, we opened fire from above. One shot can destroy an armored vehicle."

"We loaded all the unnecessary explosives into our cars to ensure that Milton would experience the power of car bombs at all times throughout the month."

"If all else fails, we can kidnap some townspeople and threaten their children with their lives, strapping grenades to the children and sending them out. Are Milton's men going to shoot the children first?!"

"Even if he dares, would his men dare?"

Lyman was even more satisfied: "Hehe...very good, I think we can hold out for two months, let alone a month."

Just as he finished speaking, Lyman's mobile phone rang.

He reached out and took the phone, asking somewhat impatiently, "Hello? Who is it? Don't you know I'm busy right now?"

"Mr. Lyman! Station Master!" came a frantic voice on the other end of the phone. "Please send reinforcements immediately, or let us retreat to the rear!"

Lyman flew into a rage: "It's only been half a day! And you're already asking for help after only half a day? Did Milton come to attack you with his F-117s?"

“Snipers…snipers everywhere.” The frontline commander’s voice was tinged with fear and despair. “We don’t know where they are, when they will die, or where is safe. Our men can’t hold on any longer.”

As soon as the words were spoken, a faint "click" sound came from the other end of the phone from the silenced M24.

The sound, like that of a stapler, is very pleasant.

But this means yet another person has been killed.

"If you can't hold on, then tough it out." Lyman's forehead veins throbbed. "Anyone who dares to run away, let the supervisory team mow them down with machine guns."

"The supervisory team is the sniper's primary target! Station chief, we must provide support, otherwise the defensive line will be destroyed before Milton even gets here..."

"Okay, reinforcements, reinforcements." Lyman clenched his fist. "Hold on for another 24 hours, and reinforcements will arrive. Otherwise, we'll all die together."

"Wait……"

Snapped!
Lyman pressed the hang-up button and waved his hand: "Sure enough, I was right to order a retreat and fight in the streets. These useless people can't hold the second line of defense for long. If I had insisted on holding the checkpoint, we would have been doomed."

"Sir Station Master, should we provide them with support?" Jain asked.

"Support my ass! Those stinking Mexicans and stinking cops want support?! They're not my men, so what if they die? At least they can hold me off for an hour. I'm not answering their calls anymore."

Lyman was unwilling to let his core members fill in the gaps!

Jaen nodded: "Okay..."

As the two talked, the convoy soon arrived in the town.

We arrived at the entrance to the town.

As usual, this place is home to many short, weak, and numb townspeople who try every day to earn a little money to buy bread to survive.

However, Lyman frowned slightly.

Unlike usual, the townspeople didn't immediately run away in panic upon seeing his convoy!

Instead, they looked up and gazed at us!

The convoy drove past the crowd and headed toward the safe house in the center of town.

Looking out through the bulletproof glass in the back seat, Kleinman felt a strange, inexplicable unease creeping into his heart.

The townspeople's eyes were filled with weariness and fear, just as always.

But whether it was an illusion or not, Lyman clearly sensed a new emotion in the eyes of these people, an emotion that had never appeared before, or rather, that they dared not show.

Hatred.

(End of this chapter)