Taxes are only within machine gun range!

Chapter 175 The Decapitation Operation on Milton!
This scene truly caused Milton's mind to short-circuit for a while—even with so much information he had been exposed to in the future, he couldn't believe that such abstract things could happen in this world that he couldn't even imagine.

Milton was amazed by the performance of Lopez's "elite soldiers" just now. There are even experts here?

The soldiers watched helplessly as the plane went through the approach procedure perfunctorily (note) and then landed on the makeshift runway of the barracks.

As Milton's troops picked up their guns, they saw the dozens of "good soldiers" who had recently surrendered put down their plates, grabbed their weapons, and charged menacingly toward the runway.

Their speed and morale didn't look like those of "good soldiers" at all.

Milton followed closely behind, turning his head slightly to complain to Flora, "Look at Lopez's soldiers, they're only half-paid. When they're fully paid, they're invincible..."

Flora retorted, "I don't think full pay is possible... How good can someone like Lopez be to these non-core troops?"

“Typical warlord thinking, still talking about loyalists.” Milton shook his head. “As long as you treat your soldiers fairly and enforce the rules justly, anyone can be your loyalist.”

Flora sighed: "If Lopez were as good as you, would we have lost so much territory in just a few months?"

"..."

While the two were chatting, the plane that had suddenly landed had already completed its descent.

The aircraft door opened, and several burly men with large tattoos on their bodies, representing the "Juarez Group," jumped out.

Seeing the large number of armed soldiers rushing towards them, the drug dealers were stunned for a moment, and then a feeling of gratitude welled up in their hearts.

"Look, look!" The drug dealer in the lead was practically moved to tears, shouting, "That's what respect is! That's what allies are!"

In fact, while the drug dealers were in the air, they noticed that the city seemed to be in turmoil, but they didn't pay much attention to it.

After all, it's the same in Mexico, so it's not surprising.

Seeing the well-equipped and solemn-looking soldiers surrounding them, including several faces they recognized from their previous visit, the drug dealers went up to greet them.

"Hey guys, good evening... What's that smells so good?"

"Look at the goods we brought this time, even the Americans said they were great... By the way, where's your boss? Is he busy?"

"..."

Wow!

Before the Juarez Cartel drug dealers could finish speaking, they were grabbed by the soldiers, handcuffed, searched, disarmed, and then dragged toward Milton.

"Huh?!" The drug dealer, still bewildered, struggled and shouted, "Wait, brothers, are you sure you're not mistaken?"

"Wrong person! Wrong person! Hey buddy over there, don't you remember me? You even brought me water to wash my feet when I was here last time, don't you remember?"

The drug dealer in the lead was getting angry: "Hey, we're from the Juarez Group. Didn't you see the tattoos on our bodies? Do you know that our cooperation was agreed upon by the highest levels of both sides? Release us right now, I want to see your boss!"

"Do you all want to be court-martialed?"

The soldier who once served foot bath water to drug dealers said coldly, "Don't rush, I'll take you to see our boss now."

As he spoke, the drug dealer felt himself being pushed hard, and the light in his vision was partially blocked by a figure.

The drug dealer shook his aching arm, looked up and roared, "Guatemalans, what the hell is this attitude? What do you mean? Give me an explanation, and I guarantee..."

The drug dealer didn't finish his sentence.

It wasn't because he didn't want to continue, but because he had already completed the action of "looking up" and clearly saw the face of the person standing in front of him.

Milton looked at him calmly and urged, "What do you promise? Go on, I'm listening."

At that moment, the drug dealer felt his blood run cold—if it weren't for the pain stimulating his mind, he would have suspected that the packaging had broken during the cargo transport, causing him to inhale hallucinogenic gas and hallucinate!
The people of the Juarez Group might forget their parents' faces, they might forget the face of the dead Rudolf, they might even forget the face of "King of the Sky" Amado... but they could never forget the face in front of them!

Because his name is Milton.

Within Mexican drug cartels, especially the Juarez Cartel, which still has a lot of mess to clean up, the name Milton needs no prefix.

Its terror surpasses even that of Amado, and it has become a legendary figure, on par with Guzman and Pablo, with most people believing they will never meet such a great man in their lifetime.

But now this legendary, terrifying figure stands silently before him—as an enemy.

The drug dealer's body suddenly began to tremble violently and uncontrollably, and his whole body went limp involuntarily. If it weren't for the soldiers next to him desperately holding his arm to prevent him from slipping away, he would have turned into a puddle of mud by now.

"Speak!" A soldier kicked the drug dealer in the backside. "Didn't you hear Mr. 'Hell Tax Collector' tell you to speak? What did you promise?!"

The drug dealer's voice trembled: "I...I promise I'll never dare to mess with you again..."

Milton, however, was quite interested in the drug dealer who had selflessly given up his plane to him, and patiently asked, "Alright, alright, let me ask you another question. Why did you fly your plane over here? Don't you know there's a war going on here?"

The drug dealer, his leg trembling, cried out, "We...we received news that Lopez won a great victory and repelled the enemy's attack! Otherwise, otherwise how would I have dared to fly over? I was just afraid of spoiling your meal!"

At this point, the drug dealers finally managed to figure out a little bit of the situation.

Damn it, Lopez! It's true that the enemy attacked Champellico Port, but it's a lie that he repelled them!

Forget about repelling the enemy, the entire port has been completely captured!
That beast didn't even notify the Juarez Group!

They put on quite a show with this door-to-door delivery!
Milton was actually a little disappointed. These people in front of him didn't seem to be any important leaders, and he guessed they wouldn't be able to get much important information.

The other soldiers noticed Milton's sudden drop in interest and asked, "'Hell Tax Collector', what are we going to do with these drug dealers?"

The drug dealer's eyes widened, and he immediately urinated on the ground, trying to kneel down and beg for mercy, but the surrounding soldiers covered his mouth tightly, preventing him from howling.

Their positive attitude makes it impossible for them to be the kind of cowards who would surrender at the mere sight of a gun.

Milton walked towards the plane, waved, and said, "Do you know how the most difficult pollution to deal with in the world is handled?"

"Only by burying them deep in the soil can we isolate their influence."

"Drug dealers should be buried in the earth."

After saying that, Milton walked to the vicinity of the plane, opened the hatch, climbed inside and took a look, hoping to find any spoils of war.

Milton searched the cabin for quite a while but couldn't find anything good.

There are quite a few valuable items that can be exchanged for US dollars, but I didn't find anything with particularly strong tactical or strategic value.

"That's true... what good stuff could such a small-time drug dealer have? Dollars are the best thing for him."

Milton consoled himself with a thought, then went into the cockpit, wanting to search for anything else.

Then, he saw a very conspicuous old map in a very obvious place.

Milton glanced over and his eyes widened immediately.

"Holy crap...this map?!"

Flora squeezed in, making room for herself: "What good stuff do you have? Let me see!"

“This is very likely an internal map of the Juarez Group!” Milton carefully picked up the map. “Look at these coordinates; they are the airport runways that the Juarez Group has hidden in various locations!”

"The map information may not be complete, but it definitely includes a significant portion of the Juarez Group's airports!"

"They even sketched out some of the flight routes on it!"

Flora was somewhat puzzled: "But this drug dealer doesn't seem like a very important person, so how could he get his hands on a map like this? Could he actually be a low-ranking boss?"

After so much experience, Milton has gradually learned to think about problems using the unique perspective of the Latin American region: "I don't think we need to overcomplicate it. It's probably just that the crew found it too troublesome and secretly drew up this map themselves..."

"This makes flying much more convenient."

It was pointless, just pure stupidity.

Flora was silent for a while: "...If it were before, I would definitely say 'Do you think everyone else is an idiot?' But now, well, I really think what you said is very likely."

“This map is very useful. Have someone make a copy right away!” Milton carefully put the map away. “Now we can confirm that the Juarez Group is colluding with Lopez. They can use airplanes to provide Lopez with large amounts of cash and high-value items.”

"After Lopez lost the port, the air routes of the Juarez Group became one of their lifelines!"

“Now, it seems we have a chance to tamper with this lifeline.”

This is also Milton's consistent principle—to minimize the number of friends the enemy has, and to find ways to clip the enemy's wings and inflict as many debuffs on the enemy as possible before the final battle.

Why was Milton's tactical maneuver always so successful?

Because Milton has already won too many battles on many unseen battlefields.

Flora looked slightly troubled: "'Tax collector,' even if we get our hands on this map, we probably don't have any spare military resources to attack the Juarez Group right now, do we?"

"Don't forget, all we have right now are some helicopters and a Dragonfly."

"But Juarez is in the heart of Mexico. We can't just fly directly into another country's airspace to carry out military operations, can we?"

"Or, should we have the new government of Tapachula place an order with 'Warwind Corporation'? This would circumvent some of the legal issues, but with fewer aircraft, our strike efficiency would be low. We can probably only destroy a few airports before 'King of the Sky' realizes the problem and begins to retaliate or relocate."

Milton flicked the map in his hand: "Who said we were going to take matters into our own hands? Don't forget the woman who left our territory before."

Flora thought for a moment, then her eyes lit up: "You mean that DEA agent? The one named Winnie?"

“That’s right.” Milton nodded affirmatively. “All her comrades were killed, and she has a blood feud with the drug cartel… This map can help her a lot. The DEA can also spare far more air power than we do.”

"Most importantly, this allows us to establish more connections with the DEA—although the DEA is far less powerful than the CIA, this connection is enough to provide us with a good buffer."

"Our hostility towards the CIA does not mean that we are hostile to the abstract concept of 'the United States'." "As I have said, the term 'the United States' is far from representing the United States itself. As long as we can find a way to win over a faction, we will not be directly attacked by the US military... The CIA's attacks on us will at most be limited to sending CIASAD."

"This is within our capabilities."

Flora nodded slightly: "But there is another problem. Just like you said, the United States cannot represent the United States... and DEA agents may not necessarily represent the DEA."

Her point was simple—DEA might not be a monolithic entity either.

Milton shrugged. "That depends on Winnie. I believe someone who can carry out a mission overseas and endure such a huge blow is not a fool."

“That makes sense…” Flora nodded. “So, how much do you plan to sell this map for?”

Milton glanced at the map and chuckled, "It doesn't need to be too expensive. Just have Winnie pay for the medical bills from last time."

Flora burst out laughing: "Hahaha! You're still thinking about your medical bills?!"

"Nonsense... You don't know the cost of living until you're in charge. If you were in my position and saw the medical bills, you'd faint right away."

"Don't let my current imposing and invincible appearance fool you. More than anyone else, I want to end this war as soon as possible."

The sound of cannons can turn gold into silver. Every time Milton checked his system points and his faction's financial situation, he felt a chill run down his spine.

Today's military operation alone wiped out nearly ten million dollars and almost the same amount of credits for Milton.

If it weren't for the sponsorship he got from the three major drug cartels in Mexico, if it weren't for the fact that he had saved up a lot of money and accumulated a considerable fortune, and if he had system points to use instead of US dollars... Milton would have gone bankrupt long ago.

His territory's economic scale was simply insufficient to support a war of this scale.

There's a war going on right now, and the port economy can't be immediately realized...

People will die if there are no taxes.

Click, click...

Just then, Olya's reporter team's car happened to pass by and took a few photos in this direction.

Flora finally offered a word of comfort: "Don't worry, Lopez must be feeling terrible too. You know better than I do how devastating it is for him to see a port evaporate in an instant."

Milton walked toward the armored vehicle convoy: "I don't care, medical expenses must be paid no matter what—if not, just buy health insurance. With us overseeing it, we guarantee the health insurance company won't make the kind of joke that happened in America. Let's go, go back and rest."

"Ah—" Flora yawned. "Go to sleep. By the way, you owe me two days of vacation. I remember it. Don't forget."

"Then let's leave it on credit for now."

Twenty minutes later, the two arrived at a relatively safe and heavily guarded building opposite the city hospital. After a quick wash, they went to sleep.

The next morning, Milton was awakened by a knock on the door.

Milton jumped up, changed his clothes in ten seconds, took a mouthful of mouthwash and spat it out; the whole process of getting up took less than 20 seconds.

"What's wrong? Is there an emergency?"

"'Godfather,' it's not an emergency... something happened at the hospital entrance, would you like to go take a look?"

Casualties are inevitable in war. The Champelli Hospital has been temporarily requisitioned by Milton and is operating at an extremely high efficiency thanks to the system's resource exchange program.

The hospitals at headquarters and Tapachula were also working overtime, and medical aircraft were on standby at all times, ensuring that Milton's army had no problems with medical logistics.

For the military, as long as food, medical care, and salary are guaranteed, it can maintain strong combat effectiveness.

"Faith" and other factors are already beyond the scope of consideration for the Latin American region.

Is there a problem with the hospital now?
Isn't this a big deal?
Milton strode out of the room, glanced at Flora who had also gotten up quickly, and said seriously, "If something goes wrong at the hospital, that's a big deal. Tell me, what's going on?"

"It's not that the hospital itself has a problem; it's that someone outside is involved..."

The officer said in a low voice, "Someone wants medical treatment, but they don't have the money right now."

Sporadic gunfire could still be heard in the city, and the fact that the functions on the control panel were still locked indicated that the urban warfare was not over.

Milton followed the officers and guards to the hospital entrance.

A middle-aged man with a full head of white hair was kneeling at the hospital entrance, with a girl lying next to him covered in blood, who appeared to have only received basic treatment for her wounds.

"Doctors, officers, please..."

“My daughter is dying. I accept the medical bills, I can pay them back, and I won’t run away!”

"Please!"

"..."

Milton's gaze froze slightly—he recognized these two people!

They were the same group of people who were on TV demanding compensation for the fallen soldiers and Lopez, and were violently suppressed. That father and daughter... In just one day, the father's hair had turned completely white.

No wonder these officers call on me even for such trivial matters. If it were an ordinary civilian, they would most likely only report to Brandon and then call it a day.

Unfortunately, the "political" identities of these two individuals are somewhat sensitive.

They were indeed the families of fallen soldiers, but... Lopez's soldiers were Milton's enemies.

How could the officers and doctors dare to make decisions on their own?

Milton glanced at the two men; there was no record of smuggling whatsoever. They really were respectable people.

"Sir, I beg you!" The man looked extremely haggard. He could tell that Milton was the one who could make the final decision. "Lopez was advocating for the fight against terrorism, for a just war. We were just too poor. I'm sorry... we didn't know the truth about the war!"

“I can do anything to make amends, I can pay back the medical bills, I… I beg you, I can atone for my sins, Ulani is innocent…”

The doctor and officers showed signs of reluctance, but they remained still, awaiting Milton's orders.

Milton sighed and waved to the doctor, "Don't just stand there, or he'll die."

Everyone breathed a sigh of relief, and the nurses who were waiting on the side quickly carried Ulani away.

The middle-aged man continued to apologize to Milton while crying:
“I’m so sorry, sir, I’m so sorry… No hospital in Quetzaltenango would admit us. It was only thanks to a kind-hearted doctor who secretly helped us with emergency care.”

"We just want to survive. We don't know why things turned out this way. Whatever we do is wrong..."

As he spoke, the man even broke down: "Sir, I don't know why. Is this land cursed? Is the blood flowing in our veins cursed? Why is everything we do wrong? Why has it turned out like this just because we wanted to live... I'm sorry, we really have no ill intentions towards you..."

The families of those who fought and sacrificed for Lopez have fallen into such a state.

It would be a miracle if his troops were even capable of fighting.

Milton sighed and shook his head. "Alright, forget about curses. The Provisional Government of Champerico has banned feudal superstitions. Get up. There are relief stations in the city. Go find something to eat. Give your address to the hospital in a couple of days, and the medical bills will be sent there."

It wasn't that Milton insisted on taking the money, but he couldn't ask for it in his official capacity—otherwise, countless people would flood the hospital and overwhelm the medical resources within a few days.

As for whether we can provide the money... we'll see later.

"Thank you for your kindness, thank you for your kindness! I, I can do anything to help you! I will definitely repay the money. My son used to send letters home often before he died in battle. I can show you the letters!"

"I know a lot of people in Quetzaltenango, I can help you get information to cover your medical expenses!"

"I...I can still..."

The man, who had been desperate and was willing to try anything, never dreamed that the "rebels," who were portrayed as incredibly cruel and insane in their propaganda, would actually be so organized. The city was in excellent order, with no soldiers looting and the army even distributing free food!
"Hell tax collector"? If this place is hell, he'd rather live in hell for the rest of his life!
Lopez's army is the brutal army that his mother has been portraying!

Milton waved his hand and left: "Alright, alright, just give the letter to my man later."

"Thank you... thank you..."

After they had walked a distance, Flora said in a strange tone, "Didn't you just tell me last night that you didn't care and that I had to pay for medical treatment no matter what?"

Milton, enraged, retorted, "Shut up! This is work time. If you talk about anything unrelated to work, you'll have your pay docked."

"The most important thing is to take the city down as soon as possible."

“Tsk… ‘Tax collector’!” Flora clicked her tongue twice. “I think it’s fine. Lopez’s side is definitely in chaos. Battle reports can lie, but the front lines can’t. Even if he announces a thousand victories, it won’t change the fact that the port has fallen.”

"We need to speed things up, who knows what kind of mischief Lopez is up to..."

Just as Milton finished speaking, several notifications related to "smuggling" suddenly appeared on the panel.

[Unregistered Category 1 smuggled goods (M16A2) detected entering the host's controlled area...]

Unregistered Tier 2 smuggled goods (heavy body armor) detected entering...

[Unregistered... detected]

An unregistered aircraft (UH-60) has been detected entering the host's control area.

Milton stopped in his tracks—was this...was this a special forces team?!
UH-60?!
It also has a more famous name.

Black Hawk.

Note: Approach, an aviation term, refers to the process by which an aircraft aligns itself with the runway during descent. During the approach phase, the aircraft adjusts its altitude to align with the runway and avoid ground obstacles. (This is not a typo.)

(End of this chapter)