Taxes are only within machine gun range!

Chapter 174 Assemble the Troops

Milton almost lost his composure when he saw Lopez announce his resounding victory with a zero-frame shot on the TV screen.

Milton originally thought he had been shameless enough—he hadn't even taken the city yet, only the radio station, and he immediately rushed out to announce his victory.

But I didn't expect Lopez to be even more shameless than him.

How dare they declare victory so directly?
Flora laughed too: "Haha... Look, some people down there are still cheering. It feels like they'll keep winning as long as no one rushes up to them and points a gun at their heads."

Of course... Even 30 years from now, in an era of highly developed internet, there will still be a huge number of such people.

Not to mention the era when mass information dissemination relied solely on radio stations and television stations.

If you don't have more channels to get more information, then you can only win, right?

Milton stood up from his chair in the studio and waved his hand, saying, "It's okay, let them win. I even hope Lopez keeps his word and really holds a three-day victory celebration. If we can keep them occupied for three days like this, I'll be laughing in my sleep."

Flora followed Milton downstairs: "Hmm... let me think. I remember many years ago, around 1962, India had the same mentality. The result was a direct defeat. The psychological gap was huge, and it broke their backbone for at least 20 years. They haven't fully recovered yet."

Milton nodded in deep agreement, saying, "Yes, everything is predicated on being able to win on the battlefield."

Where do we go next?

Milton didn't turn his head, took two steps to climb onto his chariot, and replied, "There are still many remnants of enemy troops in the city. Those who resist us should be eliminated, but those who are not so reactionary can be incorporated first."

Flora followed behind and got into the vehicle, closing the armored vehicle door behind her. She said with a strange look in her eyes, "Recruit them? Are you sure you want to recruit these kinds of soldiers... Let me tell you, soldiers are not something you can have as many as you want. Sometimes it's better to have none at all."

Milton certainly didn't really want these assembled troops... The problem was, these were the only troops he could get right now.

After capturing Champellico Port, the interface already shows the items that will be unlocked soon—the most basic military ships, more aircraft, real tanks, and so on.

The prerequisites for unlocking these have also been provided.

As long as you can capture port cities, the population and territory requirements will naturally be met, but the panel also requires something very annoying - the size of the army.

Milton can't recruit soldiers right now, so recruiting some soldiers he can is the best option at the moment.

"you……"

Before Flora could finish speaking, the voice of the soldier leading the way came through the walkie-talkie.

"'Godfather,' something's up..."

Before the report was even finished, Milton and Flora, who were chatting just a second ago, practically pounced on their observation equipment and looked ahead. Their movements were so fast that the other members of the crew couldn't even see them!

As the soldiers reported, Milton also saw the corresponding situation through the observation and aiming equipment.

Not far away, a group of soldiers dressed in regular military uniforms were looting a shop!
The man in the lead looked to be a junior officer!

Seemingly hearing the sound of armored vehicle engines coming from the street, these thieves and soldiers suddenly became anxious. Seeing that the people behind the cashier were still slowly withdrawing money, they directly picked up their PPSh guns and fired a burst of bullets at them!

Da da da!
Blood and flesh were flying everywhere in the grocery store, and the shop owner and his wife collapsed to the ground on the spot...

Several government soldiers grabbed the banknotes and tried to escape through the alley.

"stop!!!"

Those in Milton's army were all from respectable families; they had never seen an army directly robbing civilians before, and they were immediately furious and wanted to stop it.

If they weren't afraid of accidentally harming civilians, they would have already opened fire!

Those bandits were still unrepentant. One of them, a man with a scar on his face, turned around, pointed his gun at them, and shouted, "Fuck you!"

Bang bang bang!
The next second, the already furious "tax police" pulled the trigger, and the gunshots continued for at least 2 seconds before stopping.

Those soldiers and bandits who had just been so arrogant now each had several pounds of bullets in their bodies.

Milton's face darkened. He quickly got out of the car and glanced at the grocery store—the family must have closed up shop after hearing the gunshots, but the roller shutter had been forcibly smashed open…

“This is certainly not an isolated incident.” Flora sighed. “This is war… Sometimes I really think these people are twisted. They crumble at the first sign of our army, but when we catch them robbing civilians, they act so fiercely. What are they after?”

"Could it be that he drank too much and damaged his brain?"

Milton ignored her for the time being and, after confirming that it was safe, took two steps into the grocery store.

The couple lying on the ground were already dead. Milton glanced inside and saw two children hiding in the corner, their eyes filled with fear.

Seeing that their equipment was clearly superior and far superior to that of the government troops who had previously robbed them, another group of armed men walked in. The leader, a boy of about ten years old, tightly covered his sister's mouth and pleaded with his eyes not to cry.

Then he secretly opened a very hidden compartment and took out a large handful of crumpled banknotes.

He put on a fawning expression: "Sirs, this is all the money we have... You've been fighting for so long, you must be hungry, right? We can treat you to a meal!"

Judging from her skill level, this was clearly not the first time she had done something like this.

Many people at the scene fell silent—they came from Malacan, from Tapachula, and had all seen this kind of life, or had just escaped it.

Milton pointed to the badge hanging on his body and said calmly, "Do you recognize this symbol?"

The boy shook his head in fear, terrified that he would be executed for not being able to answer the question.

“We’re from the tax office, we don’t rob,” Milton said. “My coming here means that from now on, everyone will only have to pay the taxes that are explicitly stipulated by law, and nothing else.”

"Even if you're a robber, even if you're God, you can't be forced to hand over your money."

"do you understand?"

The boy didn't understand at all, but he still nodded like a chick pecking at rice.

Milton didn't expect them to understand immediately. He waved his hand, turned and left, saying as a final note, "From today onward, you will not be robbed again."

Once on the bus, Milton realized that the trouble was not just the government forces' guerrilla warfare in the city, but also their destruction of the entire city's economy.

When the army loots a city, it can often turn the city into complete ruins, and it can take several years to recover!
These are all Milton's tax revenues, and they were easily lost to a bullet worth less than a dollar. What a huge loss.

We must wipe out these government troops, these vermin, as soon as possible.

Sometimes, having a terrible enemy isn't a good thing.

However, before the convoy had gone very far, another exclamation came through the walkie-talkie.

"'The Godfather,' there's another situation ahead!"

Come again? !
Milton had a bit of a headache and ordered, "If someone robs us, kill them immediately and don't report back to me!"

“Reporting, ‘Godfather,’ it wasn’t a robbery…” the soldier reporting sounded a little aggrieved. “We saw a group of government troops, and they… they seemed to be… trafficking drugs…”

Milton, who has always been disgusting to others, hasn't experienced this level of "high blood pressure" in a long time.

Do you think this is human speech?

Milton was already angry, so he practically kicked the car door open and looked ahead—just as the soldier had said, not far ahead, a very dilapidated stall was filled with smoke.

Many emaciated people were crowded around the stall, some smoking "cigarettes" and others injecting themselves with syringes.

Nearby, several soldiers with dazed eyes were laughing and joking as they pulled something out of the box—there was communication equipment on the table, but the wires were swaying in the wind and it wasn't even plugged in.

It seems that these soldiers, who are both drug dealers and addicts, are unaware that war has already broken out!

Just one glance was enough to overwhelm Milton with so many flaws.

A fool's sudden inspiration can be far more destructive than a bad person's elaborate schemes.

Flora finally couldn't hold back any longer, reaching up to put on her gas mask while complaining, "Are you really sure you want to recruit these people into our team? Really? Or should we start recruiting from scratch..."

That's a real gem!

Milton also put on a mask, took two steps forward, kicked over a table, and unleashed all his murderous intent: "You fucking, as an army, you're involved in drug trafficking? You want to die? Arrest them all..."

"Who the hell are you? What right do you have to tell us what to do? Do you even know who we are?" The second lieutenant, looking dizzy and disoriented, stood up, pointed at Milton's convoy, and said proudly, "See those armored vehicles? They're all ours. Hiccup. Think carefully about how you should talk to us!"

Milton: "..."

Another soldier, still dazed from the drugs, stood up, staggered towards the pistol lying on the ground, and said, "Boss, why are you talking to him like this? Just kill him!"

Logically, Milton's men should have opened fire by now, but everyone, including Milton himself, was filled with astonishment.

Because this person was holding the gun upside down.

boom!
The next second, he pulled the trigger on his forehead, his brains splattered, and he collapsed to the ground.

The officer was shocked and pointed at Milton, asking, "How come you're still alive? Are you a superhero?"

“Stop arresting him, just execute him on the spot.” A feeling of “despair” welled up in Milton’s heart. “Find a place to bury him, somewhere far away, so as not to pollute the environment.”

"it is good!"

"..." After dealing with these scumbags and disposing of the remaining drugs, Milton and Flora got back into the armored vehicle and followed the convoy to their next target.

“Sigh, ‘tax collectors’…” Flora sighed heavily, “This is really a bit too much.”

Milton remained expressionless. At this point, he had lost confidence in his earlier plan to incorporate the enemy forces on the spot—there was absolutely no way he could recruit these scumbags.

"If we can't incorporate them, then let's annihilate them. It doesn't make much difference."

Flora patted Milton on the shoulder: "Sigh, 'tax collector.' Congratulations on finally discovering that sometimes many things are more troublesome and difficult than eliminating the enemy on the battlefield."

As a man from the future, Milton can use his vision, knowledge, and equipment to defeat his enemies on the battlefield... but what comes next is not so easy to accomplish.

It is even an age-old problem.

Milton decided to put aside these dreadful things for now and focus on the military issues: "Taking complete control of the port city as soon as possible is one thing, but we also need to quickly scout out Quetzaltenango, maintain contact with the rebel front, and see how Lopez plans to move his troops."

Flora nodded: "We've already sent people with a lot of bombs and mines to scout ahead along the road—using our reconnaissance drones."

"If Lopez sends a large army over, the rebels and drones should be able to detect something in advance."

“Landmines have been laid around the perimeter of the highway. If the situation gets out of control, we can blow up the highway immediately and use the landmines and terrain advantage to slow their advance.”

"Time is tight, but I think it should be enough for us to completely take control of the city and capture the port."

"As long as we have a port, we are not afraid to fight Lopez's elite troops head-on—just like you said, he is the one we are moving around, he is very passive, and his morale will be very low."

"Moreover, Lopez may not yet know that we have not truly and completely taken over the city. Judging from his performance on TV just now, he received intelligence such as 'the port of Champelli has fallen'."

Milton listened to Flora's report and nodded: "We're racing against time, hurry up. Soon, the tide will turn."

"..."

Several hours later, after painstakingly clearing out several enemy strongholds, Milton, his eyelids drooping wearily, asked, "What's the situation now? How's the city capture progress? What are our losses?"

"If we were to describe it in numbers, it's probably more than a third, but less than half," Flora reported. "Currently, we've lost a total of four armored vehicles, and the casualties..."

"The compensation for the wounded and killed must be paid out immediately, in US dollars or gold," Milton said. "Clear one more outpost, then prepare to rest today... Haste makes waste."

"Received~"

Ten minutes later, Milton received a message from Brandon.

"Boss, according to the confessions of the captured men, the area ahead should be the encampment of a battalion or company of the 2nd Infantry Brigade of Guatemala. We need to be careful and set up an ambush."

Milton was a little confused: "What do you mean by 'a certain'?"

Brandon couldn't help but complain, "Uh, we don't even know the specific unit numbers of the soldiers we captured. What the hell are these guys doing, living such a muddled life?"

To be honest, before the battle started, many soldiers felt that they were from a small town and were a ragtag army. They thought that they would be out there fighting against the elite government forces of big cities, and that they would definitely be inferior to them in many ways, and that they would have to make up for it with their fighting spirit.

But now it seems... the government soldiers are actually in such a sorry state?!
The elite force was actually myself?
“Forget about all this nonsense.” Milton sighed. “Let’s go, prepare to take over this camp by force.”

"Roger that!"

The camp was brightly lit, clearly indicating that there were people inside, but the scouts at the front reported that none of the soldiers had picked up their weapons; instead, they were simply taking naps wherever they could find a spot.

The artillery fire outside had been going on for so long that even a deaf person could hear it, yet these guys were still dozing off in the camp!

boom!
An armored vehicle crashed into the camp, startling the soldiers inside. Upon seeing the dark, gaping cannon muzzle on the armored vehicle, they all raised their hands in surrender.

Milton jumped out of the vehicle expressionlessly, glanced around, and found no signs of drug use in the unit.

"Where are your officers? What are you common soldiers doing here?!"

The soldier pushed to the front said tremblingly, "Report... Our commander has partnered with the Juarez Group and led some men out to raid the anti-drug police."

"Uh-huh?!"

Milton nodded subconsciously, then realized something was amiss: "What did you say? Who's allied with whom to besiege whom?"

"Uh, our superiors, together with the Juarez Group, went to raid the federal narcotics officers," the soldier whispered. "I heard, I just heard, that the Juarez Group has been cooperating with them recently."

"Did you see the temporary runway over here? I saw the Juarez Group send a small plane to deliver goods earlier..."

Is this really a serious army of a serious country?
Milton took a deep breath: "How many people are left in the camp? What weapons and equipment do they have? Who is the highest-ranking officer among you?"

"I am a sergeant, the highest rank... There are still more than 50 people in the camp... Weapons and equipment..."

After Milton had the data recorded, he glanced at the soldiers' appearance, frowned, and asked, "Why do you all look so malnourished? And didn't you hear the gunfire? Why didn't you resist? Even if you didn't want to resist, why didn't you run away?"

The sergeant replied hesitantly, "Because, because we left the camp, we had no food... The food you sell, sir, is a little cheaper than what you can buy outside. We've already left our weapons far away, so I don't think you'll fight us. As long as you give us food, we'll fight for you."

A military camp selling food?!
How could an army so readily betray its allies for a bite to eat?!
Not only Milton, but even the soldiers on guard around him were shocked—they considered themselves a ragtag army, yet they were able to eat their fill of grain, chicken, and fruit every day.

There's a famine in the government army barracks?!
The fact that the Guatemalan army definitely provides food only suggests that officers embezzle and deduct from supplies at every level, ultimately even forcing ordinary soldiers to pay for their own service...

This is absolutely outrageous! No wonder people say that the Nationalist Army, such rotten fish and shrimp, would be considered gods in other places. It's no joke.

Milton suppressed his shock and gave the order to his men: "Search the camp..."

Seeing Milton's cold attitude, the sergeant cautiously asked, "Um, you must be Mr. 'Hell Tax Collector'? Um, do you want us? We really can join your team!"

Flora felt a chill run down her spine—this team, while not robbing and trafficking drugs like the teams she had encountered before, still managed to "fight well" by not resisting or fleeing when faced with enemies and instead standing still!

Is it really possible to bring them in?

Milton asked, "Aren't you afraid of Lopez? Aren't you afraid of the Juarez drug cartel? If you follow me, you'll always be dealing with enemies like these. Aren't you afraid?"

“No matter how terrible they are, it’s not as terrible as starving to death, sir…” The sergeant gave a helpless bitter smile. “All we know is how to shoot. If you don’t want us, we will definitely starve to death.”

Milton found a chair, sat down, looked the sergeant up and down, and asked, "There should be some food in the residential area. I saw many government troops looting. Why don't you do the same?"

The sergeant hesitated for a while before cautiously saying, "Isn't this a bad idea?"

Milton understood the situation. He turned to the logistics department and said, "Bring them the food, make sure they're well-fed, and then send them to the rear."

Flora was a little incredulous: "Are we really going to recruit these people? What kind of fighting power do they have?"

Milton calmly said, "The same person can unleash completely different fighting power when serving different armies. I know of a famous war in which their fighting will was even weaker than these people's, but after surrendering, they transformed into soldiers who could carry explosives and perish together with the enemy with bloodshot eyes, and never be defeated."

"I want Lopez to know that it's not his men or his soldiers who are incompetent, but he himself."

"Now, let's eat!"

Milton could see that the soldiers were already counted as teammates on the panel—albeit at the lowest tier.

But when various kinds of chicken, white bread, and other foods that are usually only seen in restaurants were served, the eyes of these "soldiers" widened in amazement.

They swallowed hard, watching others get their food, but no one dared to go up.

What a joke! This kind of food is definitely prepared for Milton's most elite, strongest, and most loyal troops. They are nothing compared to him. It's a miracle they haven't starved to death.

Milton's command fell behind them: "Don't waste time, eat! We have missions tomorrow."

The sergeant was stunned. He pointed to the food and asked cautiously, "Do we...do we eat the same things as your troops?"

"You are now my troops."

The fifty-odd surrendered soldiers were stunned for a long time before nodding and going to get their food.

Almost simultaneously, Milton saw the panel information updated—these fifty-odd people, who were originally just the lowest-level teammates, had somehow jumped up a level and become true "allies"!
Milton's teammates are mostly at this level; only teammates like Flora and Brandon can be considered "confidants."

Once you reach the "ally" level, their loyalty is already quite reliable.

Holy crap, it's just one meal, we haven't even started eating yet, is it really necessary to make such a fuss?

Milton watched the soldiers eating silently with their heads down, not uttering a word, seemingly lost in thought, and once again felt the magic of Latin America.

Just as the soldiers were eating, a slightly puzzled voice came through Milton's walkie-talkie.

"'Godfather,' our air defenses have detected an unidentified aircraft, but it is not a military aircraft and does not appear to be hostile. Should we shoot it down?"

Milton thought for a moment and said, "If it's not a military aircraft, observe it first, and shoot it down only if you find a problem... Don't accidentally hurt civilians."

"Okay... uh, wait! Mr. 'Godfather,' that plane seems to be heading your way. It looks like it's approaching, preparing to land?!"

Milton: "???"

What the hell? !

I'm offering this as a tribute to a military novel; those who enjoy this genre can check it out.

A high school senior is kidnapped while on a trip, but uses his sharp American-style Iaijutsu to save an elite mercenary squad from danger, fighting ruthlessly and decisively along the way.



(End of this chapter)