Taxes are only within machine gun range!

Chapter 208 "Concentration Camps"

Upon receiving the order, everyone except Flora turned and left Milton's office, heading towards their own.

In fact, everyone knows that the most important thing right now is to quickly "cultivate internal strength".

The approach of relying on numerous tactical victories to ultimately reverse a strategic disadvantage and achieve final victory is extremely risky and unsustainable.

Milton has just occupied four provinces, each with its own set of problems.

Needless to say, the areas close to Arsu's sphere of influence are rife with cults, which are widespread and have a strong influence.

Even far from this area, in the core area controlled by Milton, there is still a lot to do.

Food, clothing, housing, water and electricity, elderly care, and medical care.

Of course, Milton has already provided a solution.

"Fortunately, social security is included in taxes. When others pay social security, the government's fiscal account not only has this money, but my panel points also have corresponding ordinary points... which can relieve a lot of pressure."

Flora, who was in charge of military affairs, was enjoying some free time lately. While flipping through the newspaper, she chatted with Milton: "Keep it up, 'tax collector'! The army has a lot of work to do and is waiting for you to earn money and allocate funds. Keep it up!"

“There’s no major financial problem,” Milton said. “It’s just that the initial investment will be a little higher.”

“We have found countries willing to export cheap industrial goods. If we pay in US dollars, they are even willing to offer discounts. They also accept weapons as collateral and sell jade... In short, the cost of living can be reduced to a large extent, and foreign exchange reserves are guaranteed to a certain extent.”

"The confidentiality measures were also handled very well."

"As for houses, I've confiscated a lot of properties, which can all be sold at a very low, symbolic price, and then property tax can be levied—this property tax will definitely be much lower than the rent. As long as I can collect the tax, everything will be fine."

"Public infrastructure construction takes time and a lot of money, and it can only be done slowly. However, I have prepared enough funds, so stop thinking about your military expenses all day long."

Flora sighed, "It's alright. After you do these things well, the fiscal revenue will only increase, and then the military expenditure will also increase."

Milton nodded: "The main work now is on Veronica's side; she's in charge of printing the currency. We can no longer allow the market to continue using both dollars and quorums."

“Large-scale grain reserves have been established, and now I can’t wait for certain speculators to bring out their assets stored overseas and in hidden places and try to buy up all the grain… I’ve wanted to take action against them for a long time.”

"What a pity, I was hoping to see your picture on the banknotes..." Flora teased. "By the way, what are you planning to call your banknotes?"

Milton thought for a moment, a faint smile appearing on his lips: "Hmm... since we're just a separatist regime on the border, let's call it 'Border Currency'."

“Printing money is not an easy task,” Flora cautioned. “Beware of counterfeit money.”

"Don't worry... it's not that easy to counterfeit money under my nose." Milton chuckled. "Anyone who dares to counterfeit money is like a drug dealer in my eyes."

Flora nodded immediately: "That is indeed very serious."

“Furthermore, we still need to achieve some degree of military autonomy,” Milton added. “So, I need more money to purchase various weapons, and possibly even production lines for aircraft and small ships.”

Flora looked at the newspaper content with amusement and casually asked, "That's for sure... but where are we going to buy it? This kind of thing isn't easy to find."

“Yes, even Russia won’t sell these things easily,” Milton said. “In this world, the only place you can buy things with money is in Ukraine… And I have a feeling this window of opportunity won’t last long. We must take advantage of their current turmoil and economic collapse to raise enough money to buy their production lines and technical personnel.”

"As far as I know, as long as we are willing to pay, we can buy production lines for all kinds of firearms, armored vehicles, tanks and artillery, as well as the technology for transport aircraft and refueling aircraft."

"Fighter prototypes, aero-engine technology, and missile technology can also be purchased."

"If we can't produce our own weapons and always rely on imports, the final stage will only be a smaller version of India, which will be in complete chaos."

"We're importing from all over the place now, there's no other way, and eventually we'll have to solve this problem."

Not to mention these, if the money is right, we can even buy aircraft carrier technology and carrier-based aircraft technology in one package.

A complete military-industrial system, at least partially complete, is the foundation for survival.

“Money, you’ve said so much, I don’t even dare to calculate how much it will cost.” Flora sighed. “Even if Ukraine’s GDP has plummeted by 60% right now, the economy has completely collapsed, and technicians and scientists are not getting a penny of their salaries, we still need to prepare at least $10 billion to buy these things.”

"Moreover, this is just the production line and technology. After you buy it, you still need to spend money to hire technicians, workers, purchase raw materials, and consume electricity and other resources to get the production line running... How much will that cost?"

"The most terrifying factor is the political one. You need to make connections abroad... You need to prepare $20 billion in cash just to get your production line running. And you'll need a huge amount of money afterward."

"Furthermore, what if some countries restrict the export of key raw materials to you?"

It's not an exaggeration to say that $20 billion is needed to barely get a few military production lines running; in fact, it's quite optimistic.

But it's okay... as long as you have the money, you can import it through the control panel. Although buying with points is slightly less costly than buying with US dollars, at least you won't be held hostage.

Once you can establish your own production line, you can practically deliver a crushing blow to the enemy.

Milton said, “Politics is not a problem. As long as I have money, I can handle everything. I’ll take care of the rest. Since you’re free now, you can take charge of this part. Our advantage is that we have many mountainous areas. As long as we build the production line underground, we can guarantee the most basic safety.”

"This is a long-term task... Once the production line is fully established, we will even have the confidence to challenge the United States to some extent. Of course, this is on the premise that everyone here is united in their hatred of the enemy, so education still cannot be neglected."

"We must not show any anti-American tendencies now. This is why I have always maintained a good relationship with the DEA. To outsiders, the so-called Pan Madre Group is just a tool for the DEA to fight against the CIA. The DEA, which has been suppressed for a long time, has finally found a good proxy and has begun to launch a counterattack against the CIA."

"No one will think I'm anti-American."

"..."

"Tsk... I knew you were going to assign me a task." Flora sighed. "Speaking of which, what about Olya? It involves the former Soviet Union. Could I find a more reliable colleague?"

Milton replied, "She'll also be in charge of media relations and military matters. Once everything's settled, the rest will be yours. Want to make money? Why not put in some effort? This is much better than before, when you were working yourself to the bone for me for a few hundred thousand dollars, rushing to military bases with just a handful of men, isn't it?"

Just then, the phone on Milton's desk rang again.

Since he became the boss of this area, the phone on his desk has been ringing almost nonstop.

However, this time it wasn't the Red Line phone that called.

Milton then answered the call directly.

On the other end of the phone came Matteo's voice, the man who had once orchestrated a massive shit-blowing plan: "Boss, another department wants to request a budget from us. Someone else is crying poor again."

Upon hearing "requesting a budget," Milton wanted to hang up immediately.

They're so desperate for money!

"Which department, and why?" Milton asked. "If the reason is unreasonable, you have the right to reject it. You don't need to call me."

“It’s the warden of Quetzaltenango prison,” Matteo said with a wry smile. “He said that when Lopez was in power, the prison was already overloaded. You came and arrested so many people and threw them into the prison. It’s completely unsustainable there… I, I feel that his reason for asking for money is quite reasonable.”

Milton paused for a moment before saying, "Alright... but the exact amount isn't up to him. I need to go to the prison to take a look before making a decision."

Milton had already released a large number of people who had been wrongfully imprisoned through various intelligence sources, and originally thought that the burden on the prisons would not be too great.

Unexpectedly, there were more scumbags outside the prison than good people inside, and in just a few days, the warden was driven crazy.

“Then, I’ll get you a car,” Matteo said. “He’s already waiting for you over there… Well, please be careful, because the prison is severely overloaded, there are a serious shortage of guards, and the order inside the prison is very bad.”

“If anyone thinks I wouldn’t dare drop bombs on the prison, then he can tell me to be careful,” Milton said. “It’s good for me to also get to know this warden.”

After occupying Quetzaltenango, Milton naturally carried out a major purge of the local administrative system.

However, if the charges were bribery or similar offenses, Milton chose to remain on probation.

Because in the previous environment, officials who neither accepted nor refused bribes simply could not survive. If they were all condemned outright, there would be basically no one left to do the work.

Therefore, we should observe first to see if it is forced, retain qualified personnel and dismiss unqualified personnel, and purify the political environment at a reasonable pace.

The warden was naturally among those placed on probation.

"lets go."

Milton boarded the LAV-25 and joined the convoy as it drove in a grand procession to Quetzaltenango prison.

Before he even reached the entrance, Milton saw several people dressed in clean prison guard uniforms standing on both sides of the road, eagerly awaiting his arrival.

"'Hell Tax Collector' sir!" The warden rushed forward upon seeing the convoy, his face ingratiating. "You've finally arrived! Have you eaten? We've prepared lunch for you; we hope it suits your taste!"

Milton looked at the warden and scanned him with his panel.

Aside from smuggling a little bit of precious metals, they haven't smuggled anything else... I originally thought there would be things like human trafficking.

He is a capable person.

“Didn’t you say you were short of money?” Milton closed the panel, shook his head, and said, “Then there’s no need for all this. Just take me to the prison, report the situation, and I’ll transfer the money to you as appropriate.”

"Yes, yes!" The warden continued to fawn over the legendary "hell tax collector." "Come with me, I'll take you to my office."

Soon, the group arrived at the warden's office—perhaps because the security situation was so bad, the office was located on the outskirts of the prison, heavily guarded.

Before opening the door, the warden glanced cautiously at Milton, then asked in a consultative tone, "Um, gentlemen, I have something I'd like to discuss with Mr. 'Hell Tax Collector' privately, is that alright?"

Upon hearing this, the prison guards immediately withdrew.

Flora shrugged and looked at Milton.

“Alright.” Milton glanced at the panel, making sure the man meant no harm, before nodding. “Since you think only I can know, then I’ll let you report alone.”

The warden quickly opened the door for Milton, and only after he went inside did he lock the office door and hurried to his desk.

He carefully opened the drawer, took out a cardboard bag, and gently handed it to Milton. “‘Hell Tax Collector’ officer, the prison is indeed completely running at a loss,” the warden pleaded as he handed it over. “The prison is now more than ten times over its designed capacity. The guards can only maintain basic order; the real internal order has been completely taken over by the gangs… Can you imagine, a dormitory meant for eight people now crammed with almost eighty? Many can only squeeze in sideways to sleep.”

“These are people with some status in the prison. People without status can’t even get a bed like this in a large dormitory.”

"The distribution of food was even more desperate. Can you imagine a large-scale famine in the prison? During the most intense days of the war, the prison's food supply almost stopped, and many people starved to death. It even affected the food supply of the prison guards. In the end, it was those people with status and position who used their connections to supply food to the prison, which prevented the order from completely collapsing."

"Therefore, many prisoners only listen to the prison gangs, not the prison guards..."

"Sir... I'm not pleading for the prisoners, but the truth is, the more vicious the criminals, the better their positions in prison and the more comfortable they live. Conversely, those minor criminals who are forced to steal to make a living are dying in droves."

"Before they went to prison, they were squeezed dry of their last bit of wealth. After they went to prison, the gangs would squeeze them dry of their lives as well. The prison guards and I were powerless to do anything about it. Some of the guards even became lackeys of the prison gangs."

"Please accept these things. I implore you to approve a little more funding for the prison..."

"..."

Milton glanced at the gold and dollars in the paper bag, then at the warden's dilapidated office and not-so-new clothes, and asked, "So why don't you use this money to buy food?"

Milton just did a quick calculation and discovered that this warden, who accepts bribes in various ways, is actually "clean" when you include the bag of money in his hand.

Yes, he did bribe and accept bribes, but he himself didn't actually make much money.

The warden gave a wry smile: "Because this money can be given to officials and exchanged for more funds... With my $1000 action, I can at least get $1 in funds for the prison."

“This money is illegal and should be confiscated, not handed over to me personally.” Milton flatly refused the bribe. “Given the objective factors, I will not punish you this time—transfer this money to the prison’s financial account, and I will allocate funds according to the actual situation of the prison. This allocation will reduce the confiscated fine.”

"This kind of behavior is not allowed to happen again."

"Now, take me inside the prison."

"I happen to be short of money right now, so I want to see how many surprises a prison that can support an entire inmate can bring me."

The warden watched as Milton turned and left, showing no interest whatsoever in the things in his hands. His face suddenly showed a mixture of confusion and shame.

In the past, the warden had always acted this way when faced with visiting officials. He knew it was wrong, but he had long been used to it.

There are many, many officials, and none of them are exceptions.

But today, an exception has appeared.

He quickly wiped his eyes, put down the paper bag, and opened the office door: "I'm sorry... I'm sorry! I, I'll take you there!"

"..."

……

At this moment, in the prison canteen.

"Hey kid, hurry up and polish my shoes...yes, lick them clean with your mouth! I know where your sister lives, and you're really bold, stealing from my shop!"

"Oh, oh, oh, don't let me see that look on your face again. Otherwise, your sister will be doomed. You know I can do it. You know that when even the warden can't get food, I can."

"Remember to come to room number 2 tomorrow night. Someone really likes you... Oh, and whatever you do, don't even think about suicide, or I guarantee your sister will come here and take your place."

The other criminals who were eating burst into laughter.

"Hahahahaha!"

"This kid, he was defiant of everyone when he first came in, but now he's like a dog."

"Hey, hey!" A prisoner walked over and placed a basin of swill that reeked of disgust on the ground. "Eat up, and remember to come to our room number 2 tonight, haha..."

"Boss Beo, can I have him come to my place tomorrow?"

"..."

Even in the canteen, the prison's hierarchical structure is very clear.

The vast majority of criminals, who had no tattoos and appeared to be honest, didn't even get a table; their food consisted of scraps and swill.

The criminals of slightly higher status, who had clearly joined the prison gangs, were fed a variety of grains.

Prisoners of higher status could have meat in their food.

As for the individuals who were different gang leaders, what they ate could be described as a feast—a balanced diet, generous portions, and fresh ingredients.

The prison guards watched the whole thing with amusement, and one of the female guards was wearing a "modified" uniform that was stuck to the body of the gang leader named Beau.

In a prison whose finances have completely collapsed, the warden is no longer able to control everyone with the limited funds at his disposal, and thus internal corruption will erupt.

When the prisoners in the prison provide the wealth for the prison guards not by the government, the nature of the entire prison changes.

They could even bring in a prostitute from outside, dress her in special clothes, and have her provide special services to the gang leaders!

“Hey!” Beo comfortably patted the “female prison guard’s” chest. “Sometimes, it’s more comfortable to be in prison.”

"I heard that many people have been killed outside... Luckily, I was smart enough to sell all my assets and voluntarily go to jail, hahaha!"

"I'm already in jail. The new government has a ton of problems to deal with. Who's going to care about a prisoner who's already in jail?"

"Once I'm released from prison in a few years, I'll have completely cleared my name!"

Yes, when Quetzaltenango was besieged, Beo astutely discovered a very good "refuge"—the prison!
As he expected, Milton cleaned the outside area but did not target the prison.

Instead, they sent even more prisoners, giving Beo even more people to exploit.

He now lives in a luxurious 80-square-meter single suite with a TV, a large bed, and a private bathroom. He can have his meals customized every day and change women whenever he wants. Apart from being slightly restricted in his freedom, he is living a very comfortable life.

"Haha!" one of the underlings sneered, "You might be doing even better than Milton, hahahaha! Does Milton even get to enjoy female prison guards...?"

"Who would have thought that after Milton's victory, you, boss, would be the biggest beneficiary?"

"Hahahahaha..."

Clearly, this wasn't the first time they'd made such a teasing comparison, and everyone burst into laughter.

Click, click...

Just then, footsteps were heard outside the cafeteria.

"Oh? Another new person?"

"Hehe, judging from the footsteps, it's probably some 'unconvinced' people again, or people who used to have some status but were eliminated by Milton. These kinds of people are the most interesting to torment."

“We need to show them who the ‘godfather’ is in prison.”

"The prison guards also like this kind of person; they can start a fight without even needing an excuse!"

"..."

But before they could finish speaking, they heard a scream from behind them!

Beo's laughter stopped abruptly. He turned around and saw that the prison guards who were holding batons had been subdued by several burly men and had their weapons removed!

"The warden?!"

"What do you want to do? Are you planning a rebellion?"

"Damn it, let me tell you, I'm giving you face because you're the warden, but if I didn't, I'd chop you up tomorrow and throw you in the swill for the prisoners to eat, believe it or not?"

Beo was fearless—the prison was under immense pressure, and without his and the others' financial support, the prison would definitely be in big trouble.

And now Milton is the ruler. If there are major problems in the prison, what will happen to the warden?
It's this prisoner, Beo, who holds the warden's life in his hands!

However, to Beo's slight surprise, several people emerged from the shadows behind the warden, and the warden actually stood close to the wall, making way for them.

"Oh? A few new prison guards? Is that all the confidence you have?"

Beo stood up and reached out to push the man standing at the front, to show him who was in charge here.

click!
The next second, Beo's wrist was gripped tightly, and a terrifying grinding sound came from the bones—this huge man was actually being held down by someone who was half a head shorter than him!

It looked like the bones in my wrist were about to break!
The other prisoners were immediately enraged upon seeing this and stood up to rush over.

bang bang bang! ! !
Without hesitation, the men following behind pulled the triggers of their automatic rifles.

Several people's skulls were ripped open, and severed limbs flew everywhere, completely staining the entire cafeteria red!
The criminals were terrified; their usual ferocity vanished instantly, and they lay prone on the ground, too afraid to move.

Milton removed Beo's hand, then reached out his left hand and pressed it onto Beo's forehead, pushing him back into his seat.

His voice was calm: "I heard that Milton isn't as rich as you, is that true?"

Beo dared not be arrogant anymore, but still endured the pain and said with a hint of threat, "That's right, although I'm in prison, I have more power than you think... Tell me who you are, and maybe we can cooperate."

“I am Milton.”

(End of this chapter)