Taxes are only within machine gun range!

Chapter 154 You can't only talk about peace when you're facing Milton.

Independent Street, in front of Blue Flame Bar.

A silver Porsche 911 Targa sped past.

Milo, with a cigarette dangling from his lips and touching the girl's leg in the passenger seat, slammed on the gas pedal and sped off, laughing wildly as he watched the terrified people tumbling around.

Bah, bah, bah...

Milo honked the horn while listening to the various screams, and proudly stretched out his hand, giving the middle finger.

He is Mexican, a native Mexican, and he loves this land—because in other countries, he would get a speeding ticket, but here, even if he kills someone, no one would dare to scold him.

Female police officers have to lick his genitals in the passenger seat!

What a vibrant land where everything thrives!

He absolutely adores Mexico.

Upon seeing the red light ahead, Milo immediately switched to colorblind mode, slammed on the gas pedal, and took a big gulp of beer.

Suddenly, an LAV-25 infantry fighting vehicle, obeying traffic rules, drove up from the side in an orderly fashion, and Miro's Porsche drove straight into it!
He slammed on the brakes, and white smoke billowed from the road surface from the intense friction, but he still couldn't stop. The front of the car was crushed, the airbags deployed, and the car slammed heavily into Miro's face.

As for the woman in the passenger seat, because she wasn't wearing a seatbelt, she was thrown out and then brought back by the deployed airbag, her body twisted horribly into a "V" shape.

"..."

Soon, several people got off the armored vehicle, cursing and swearing.

"Holy crap... Doesn't this guy have eyes? Didn't he see the red light? Just because he drives a sports car doesn't mean he can run a red light. We don't even run red lights when we drive armored vehicles."

"I just started my shift and I got into a car accident. Will I be drowned in poop by Mr. 'Mr. Doting Father'?"

"Wait, look at this car, isn't this the one we're looking for?"

"It really is!"

The officers who jumped down were overjoyed and immediately surrounded him, dragged the unconscious Milo out of the car, looked him over carefully, and after confirming that he was the target, they immediately handcuffed him and threw him onto the armored vehicle.

As one of the officers was getting into the car, he suddenly remembered something and asked, "By the way, the people who killed us all left notes. Should we leave something behind?"

"What should we leave behind? Should we leave a note too?"

“No.” The officer shook his head, took off his badge, and threw it onto the driver’s seat of the 911. “Remember, we’re in the midst of a great cause! We’re going to be in textbooks, and our children will learn from us!”

"A single badge is all it takes to warn these drug dealers."

After saying that, he got into the car with great pride and drove away.

Not long after, some municipal government officials and security personnel ran over after hearing the noise. When they saw the silver 911, their hearts sank.

There's only one 911 in the entire Tapachula area, so there's no need to guess whose it is!
One of the officials quickly ran back, picked up his mobile phone, dialed a number with a grim expression, and simultaneously blocked off the surrounding roads.

Oh no, this is a huge problem!
After the Sinaloa Cartel's power was severely damaged, the Gulf Cartel rose to prominence and is now the most influential drug cartel in the city. As a result, the nephew of the small boss in charge here was kidnapped.

A few minutes later, several burly men with identical skull tattoos rushed over, their faces extremely grim. They shoved aside an official, walked up to the security guard, angrily punched him, and then grabbed him by the collar.

"Where are they? Where are they?!"

"Didn't I tell you all to keep an eye on Milo?! You're all useless, a bunch of useless trash!"

"Who did it?"

"Is he one of Guzman's men?"

“No, it shouldn’t be…” The security guard, whose collar was being held, shook his head in fear. “There is a police badge in the driver’s seat. It was probably done by someone from the police station.”

"Police?! What did Monroe promise us? Does he even want to be mayor anymore? You, you go and tell Monroe to come over before 9 p.m. tonight, give us an explanation, give us a solution!"

After saying that, several Gulf Cartel drug dealers jumped into the car and headed back to their headquarters.

"..."

The official who was named wiped the cold sweat from his forehead and quickly turned and walked towards the city government.

However, just as he turned a corner, the two men sitting on the bench behind him reading newspapers suddenly jumped up, put a black garbage bag over his head, and then pulled him into a van next to him.

As soon as the van started, it headed towards the police station!
Similar incidents are happening in many places.

—Some officials' doors were even forcibly broken down, and their family members were dragged away, including some who were taking a shower.

Everyone who was targeted was dragged away without explanation.

Many of them tried to call out the names and official titles of their relatives or drug dealers as they were being dragged away, hoping to save themselves, but to no avail.

"..."

After a long while, the phone finally rang urgently.

Jingle Bell!
Unfortunately, no one will answer the phone anymore.

Meanwhile, the person calling from the other end had even more mixed feelings.

In the mayor's office at the city hall, Monroe listened to the dial tone that sounded like it would last until the end of the world, and his anger was almost uncontrollable.

"They're all not answering their phones, what are they all doing?!"

Just moments ago, Monroe was flirting with a very outspoken female reporter when Osiris Cardenas, a junior executive at the Gulf Group in charge of the area, called him.

Not only did she ruin his plans, she also gave him a severe dressing-down—saying things like, "We agreed to arrive before 9 p.m., why haven't you come yet?"

Monroe was puzzled for a moment, but after pressing him for details, he learned that not long ago, the Gulf Group had sent an official to deliver a message.

The problem is, Monroe didn't even see the official!
After giving a long explanation, Monroe angrily called the official, only to find that he couldn't get through no matter what he tried.

It wasn't just him; many other officials couldn't be reached by phone either!

“What have these people been doing all day…” Monroe angrily hung up the phone, stood up, “Forget it, let’s go to Cardenas’ place first, get the car ready, and get the security ready for me.”

More than ten minutes later, Monroe saw Cardenas with a gloomy face in the makeshift villa.

Even now, Mayor Monroe is still completely baffled, not knowing why Cardenas wanted to find him.

"Kadernas, it's so late, is there something urgent? Can't we talk about it tomorrow?"

Upon hearing this question, the veins on Cardenas' forehead throbbed.

"My nephew has been kidnapped!"

Monroe thought to himself, "Your stupid nephew will get into trouble someday—even if he doesn't get beaten to death, he'll one day crash into a car while drunk and speeding, and he'll die anyway."

But he still managed to put on a shocked expression: "Arrested? Who did it? Could it be Guzman's men?"

"The police station!!!" Cardenas, dressed in a suit, slammed his fist on the table angrily. "It's the police! They even left their badges to provoke us! They've completely broken the law!"

He nearly smashed the table, which was made of many beautiful stained glass pieces, to pieces.

Police station...

Monroe frowned: "Didn't we just send people to teach Milton and Omar a lesson?"

“This is their revenge!” Cardenas’s body trembled slightly. “They haven’t learned their lesson at all! Now, I need an answer: is my nephew still alive?”

"Aren't you the mayor? Why can't you even control your own police chief?!"

Cardenas had no immediate family, and he treated this nephew almost like his own son.

As a result, those damn cops!

Monroe was also helpless: "I've already ordered his dismissal, but it's no use... You know, the people I sent over were beheaded and sent to me, with the excuse that it was an accidental death. Before I sent a new person over, Omar was temporarily acting as director. He killed everyone in the department!"

"A hundred men were called straight to the parade ground and all of them were hit by artillery shells!"

"I don't know what conditions Director Omar offered to get Milton, that madman, to cooperate with him. Milton can even send fixed-wing aircraft. How can I possibly order him to cooperate?"

"When it comes to violence, isn't it up to you guys?"

Just as he finished speaking, a sudden screech of brakes came from outside the door. Several municipal government officials hurriedly knocked on the door, carrying some video recording equipment.

Monroe casually said, "Come in."

However, the government officials did not move, but only glanced at the armed drug dealers around them with some fear.

The officials only dared to enter after Cardenas, the head of the Gulf Group, gave a cold "hmm."

Monroe's expression immediately turned somewhat awkward.

But after thinking about the fate of many other mayors who had angered drug dealers, he swallowed his anger.

"what's up?"

The officials stumbled in, shouting, "Mayor, something terrible has happened... someone is kidnapping our officials!"

Monroe looked puzzled: "What?"

The group quickly looked at the media player.

That was footage captured by a relatively hidden camera.

At first glance, Monroe and Cardenas recognized the person in the picture—wasn't that the Gulf Group official sent to contact Monroe?!

No wonder Monroe didn't receive the message; the messenger had been kidnapped!
“Omar!” Monroe jumped up from the sofa. “He’s gone mad, he’s completely gone mad! Has he been infected by Milton? How dare he kidnap an official in the street? He’s the police chief, not a terrorist!”

Cárdenas's face hardened: "Milton must be eliminated... this Guatemalan madman, Mexico has no place for him!"

Jingle Bell……

The phone rang abruptly in the room.

The people at the scene exchanged glances—with representatives from the Gulf Group and the municipal government all here, who would still make a phone call?

Could it be that the top leader of the Gulf Group called?
Cardenas answered the phone and said in a deep voice, "Who is it?"

"Uncle!" A bloodcurdling scream, like a pig being slaughtered, came from the other end of the phone. "It's me, Milo! I'm at the police station! Help me! Send someone to rescue me! Ah...ah!"

"Ah—" A shrill scream echoed in the room.

Cardenas slammed his glass down and growled, "Milton! I know it's you, I know you're over there! You've gone too far, you've gone too far!"

"Is that so? When you killed other girls' parents and my officers, didn't you feel it was excessive?" Milton's slightly crazed voice came from the other end of the line, accompanied by the sounds of flesh and blood being torn apart in the background. "Now that people are killing you, do you feel pain?"

As Cardenas listened to that chilling voice, he, who was usually so brutal, was surprisingly reluctant to think about the scene.

"How can those people's lives compare to ours?"

Cardenas used "we".

In his mind, Milton needed to be valued even more than Mayor Monroe.

At this moment, he finally remembered who had single-handedly defeated the Sinaloa Group's local agents and who had orchestrated countless horrific crimes in Guatemala.

At least in this area where Guatemala and Mexico meet, the Milton Cartel is no weaker than the Gulf Cartel.

Cardenas decided to use a weapon more powerful than coercion: bribery.

“Release him, and you and your men can join the Gulf Group… Our cooperation will make us incredibly powerful, stronger than the Guadalajara Group, no, stronger than the Medellín Group. We will build an everlasting empire in Mexico and Guatemala, and you and I will be at the top of that empire.”

Milton's side suddenly fell silent, as if the torture had stopped.

"Is that so...? What if I don't agree?"

Cardenas said, “Then you’re doomed—if you cooperate with me and the Gulf Group, you’ll gain two allies, the city government and the Gulf Group. As for the Juarez Group, we can handle it; the Sinaloa Group… that was already your defeated foe.”

"Your rear will be completely freed up, and you can focus your energy on fighting your own war... We can even provide you with manpower directly, allowing you to gain the greatest advantage on the front lines in Guatemala."

"You can make a lot of money and buy a lot of weapons."

"Conversely, if you persist in fighting drugs, your enemy is... the whole world. This is a calculation even a fool could do, and I believe you understand it too."

Milton's calm voice came through the phone receiver: "You mean, if I choose to fight drugs, I'm going to be at odds with the whole world, I'm breaking with everyone, right?"

Cardenas smiled, waiting for Milton to nod in agreement: "That's right."

Milton's voice came through: "It's a deal."

"Beep beep..."

Cardenas and Carmen stared blankly at the phone, somewhat confused about what Milton meant by "it's a deal."

Has the cooperation been agreed upon?
The meaning doesn't quite seem right.
Two hours later, a videotape was brought to the villa by a gang member who was already showing signs of collapse.

In the scene, Milo, who has been tortured beyond recognition, is roughly pushed forward by several police officers. These officers are equipped with strange gear; they are all wearing gas masks with a very high level of protection.

"Milton is a madman! He wants to poison Milo?!"

"Is he really going to declare war on us?!"

However, the next second, Cardenas's voice abruptly stopped.

Because he saw a manure cart.

An extremely terrifying thought surfaced in Cardenas's mind.

This speculation was quickly confirmed—several police officers gave Milo, whose eyes were filled with despair, a shove into the manure truck.

Every time Milo struggled to surface, he would be beaten back down with a flurry of blows.

In just a few rounds, Milo, who was severely oxygen-deprived, finally couldn't hold it in and choked on his first mouthful of poop.

Then came the second bite, the third bite...

Finally, like all drowning people, Milo's lungs quickly filled up, his struggles weakened, and he eventually sank completely.

I don't know whether it drowned or ate itself to death.

In short, dying in a latrine—that was Milton's answer to Cardenas.

"..."

"vomit……"

Some of the drug dealers at the scene had even started vomiting.

Although the video can't capture the smell, the horrific nature of this death is enough to terrify anyone who sees it!

Even Cardenas felt a chill run down his spine.

He should have been heartbroken, but at this moment, that feeling was insignificant in the face of fear.

As one of the founders of the later "Zeta Group", he had another trump card: he could contact the special forces in Guatemala and the soldiers of GAFE in Mexico!
Later, these same thirty-odd people broke with the Gulf Group and went on a killing spree, severely damaging the Gulf Group.

Cardenas decided to use this trump card—the Tapachula operation was key to his rise to the top of the Gulf Group, and he could not afford to lose it.

“He can’t live! Milton can’t live!” Cardenas picked up the phone with trembling hands. “I need to contact the Guatemalan special forces. I have people there. He’s a menace they left behind, and they have to come and take him out themselves!”

"I want anti-aircraft missiles, I want anti-tank weapons, and I want them to send helicopters over! Make sure they fly over by noon tomorrow, or don't even think about getting any money from me!"

"They are their enemies too. Helping us is helping themselves!"

“Call my old comrades and tell them to come over with the best weapons and equipment. I have tons of US dollars here!”

"I want Milton dead! I want Milton dead! As long as he's dead, I don't care how!"

"Starting today, the reward for killing a junior officer is $500, killing a sheriff is $1000, killing a superintendent is $5000, and killing one..."

"Plan an attack on the police station immediately. I'm going to blow Milton up!"

"What are you all standing there for? Spread my words throughout the entire city! Even the rats in the sewers need to hear what I'm saying!"

After roaring, Cardenas turned to look at Monroe, his eyes bloodshot.

This time, he didn't even show the slightest bit of basic politeness.

“Monroe, Mayor… tell me now, right here, what can you do?”

Cardenas finally realized that this so-called mayor was nothing but an empty shell, and had no value in getting anything done in his name.

Tapachula's grassroots administration has essentially collapsed, with power being divided up among gangs of all sizes.

Now even the police force, the only remaining violent institution with some deterrent power, is beyond Monroe's control.

What use is he then?

Why not just wipe them out, make Tapachula even more chaotic, and turn this place into a complete hell?

Monroe sensed the intense killing intent in Cardenas's words and saw that the drug dealers around him had their fingers on the trigger, so he quickly waved his hand.

"I... I can control the TV station! I can cooperate with you to incite those in the community who have taken your money!"

Cardenas took a drag of his cigarette, trying to forget the horrifying scene he had just witnessed: "What's the point? Do you want to use the news to vilify Milton, or do you expect those scumbags who would rather crawl into the sewers at the sound of gunfire to kill Milton for you?"

"I... I can organize a protest!" Monroe was sweating profusely. After thinking for a long time, he finally came up with a wicked plan. "I can make a big scene and create a huge news story. With so many eyes watching, Milton definitely won't dare to act so recklessly anymore. After all, he represents the police! This will also limit his power to some extent!"

“That sounds plausible.” Cardenas thought for a moment, then finally nodded. “Then go do it, and hurry up.”

After saying that, Cardenas waved his hand, indicating that Monroe could get lost.

And so the mayor of Tapachula slunk out of the villa—along with his officials.

“Mr. Cardenas,” a drug dealer hurried up to him as the government officials left, “is there anything else you need to do?”

“No more until reinforcements arrive.” Cardenas sighed. “So, what is it?”

The drug dealer quickly added, "Recently, a city councilor named Vic has jumped out again and publicly stated that he wants to ban drugs, and his approval rating seems quite high."

They've already killed two, and now another one has jumped out.

Another drug dealer suggested, "Why don't we just kill him too?"

Cardenas was furious. He stood up and walked up to him: "Are you crazy? Do you think I'm a serial killer like Milton? All you do is kill, kill, kill! Can't you at least ask him how much money he wants? If you can't reach an agreement, can't you threaten him with his family?"

The drug dealer shrank back – what kind of monster was Milton that the usually ruthless boss was using him as a negative example?

"Boss, we've tried them all."

Cardenas's expression froze: "Can't be bribed, and can't be intimidated?"

"um, yes."

Cardenas covered his face and rubbed it hard.

"...Find an opportunity to get rid of him."

“Milton has only been here for one day, just one day!” Cardenas took off the gold chain around his neck and shook his clothes. “Things are starting to get out of control. This guy is a complete madman. He’s ruining the hard-won peace. We have to get rid of him as soon as possible!”

……

The next morning, at 10:30.

As Cardenas eagerly awaited, a medium-sized helicopter slowly flew over.

Ten men dressed as special forces jumped down, laughed, and bumped fists with Cardenas.

"Kadernas, you've run into trouble so quickly?"

"Tell us in detail later, and let's see who's so blind."

"I'm dying to use the toilet on the plane, where's the restroom? I need to go..."

After exchanging pleasantries with his old comrade-in-arms, Cardenas, the special forces soldier found the toilet, took off his pants, and prepared to empty his bowels.

Then, whether it was his imagination or not, he suddenly felt a very slight vibration coming from a distance.

"What……"

boom!
The explosion that was "foot in hand" and the gushing filth completely engulfed him!

(End of this chapter)