Taxes are only within machine gun range!

Chapter 229 New Van Fleet's Ammunition Capacity
San Cristóbal.

Surrounded by Milton, and after the first breakout attempt failed completely before it could even begin, the entire city inevitably descended into panic.

However, most drug dealers are still only worried about being slaughtered by Milton and planted in the ground. The more sensitive ones have begun to consciously hoard food, but the highest levels of CJNG's command have fallen into chaos.

"What the hell did you say?!" Nathan hadn't slept well for the past few days, but now he practically jumped up. "Milton just fired a shot at Tustra, wiping out a bunch of high-ranking officials? The governor almost died?"

"The governor suffered internal injuries and is currently receiving emergency treatment in the hospital... The state government has declared a state of emergency, and the governor has centralized power, but because relevant officials and staff have been eliminated, many agencies are facing temporary paralysis. The attack, originally scheduled for 3 days later, will have to wait 5 days to be reorganized?!"

Nathan could hardly believe his ears and roared into the phone, "Five days... I can't even imagine what Milton could do in three days, and you want me to wait five days?!"

"I'm not fighting anymore. Milton is a terrorist. Let Boss Julio answer the phone and have him send a helicopter to pick me up... no, just tell my people to send my helicopter over!"

"Hurry up and come today if possible."

"..."

Nathan hung up the phone and let out a long sigh of relief—that's the advantage of being a drug dealer. Even though CJNG isn't as loosely organized, Nathan himself is still considered a "partner."

Even if he has to rely on CJNG, he can still mobilize some of his own troops.

For example, the helicopter that Nathan bought himself.

After Nathan hung up the phone, one of the drug dealers said worriedly, "Boss, the power is out now. We can only use generators to keep going. Our fuel supply may run out sooner than expected."

“It doesn’t matter.” Nathan waved his hand. “A helicopter will be flying over soon, and we can leave in a bit.”

The city of San Cristó was besieged for only one day, and in just one day, the situation deteriorated into a complete mess.

The price of food skyrocketed by 5000%. Pesos were worthless, dollars were like toilet paper, and gold was just a piece of broken stone. Only food was the real hard currency.

Fortunately, thanks to CJNG's brutal suppression, things haven't escalated into unrest yet.

With the power supply cut off, many pieces of equipment had to be shut down to ensure that those that absolutely could not be shut down could continue to operate normally—such as waterworks.

The problem is, San Cristó has only been besieged for a day!

If this is the case in just one day, I can't even imagine what it will be like in five days...

Nathan simply didn't want to deal with this mess anymore.

“Have the kitchen prepare some more food.” Nathan patted his stomach and sneered. “We’ll leave after we eat. The helicopter should arrive in about two hours.”

Another lavish and wasteful meal ensued, and time quickly passed.

Nathan's mobile phone rang as expected, and as soon as he answered, he received exciting news.

"Boss, we'll be there in 10 minutes! Everything's going smoothly!"

"Okay, call me when you arrive. Remember, do not fly at low altitudes."

Nathan smiled and turned to his confidant: "Take the dollars from selling the grain with you. If you sell the goods at a high price, you'll make a small fortune. Dollars are worthless here, but they'll be worth a lot abroad."

"Hehe, good!" A drug dealer brought back several large bags of US dollars. "They're all here... Seriously, this stuff is more profitable than growing poppies."

"Nonsense... Otherwise, why would it be called 'profiteering from war'?"

Nathan looked at the dollars in the bag and smiled with satisfaction: "Let's get ready to go! Oh, and make sure to tell the others that this is just the first helicopter ride, and that there will be more helicopters to pick them up later."

"do not worry!"

Ten minutes passed in the blink of an eye, and the phone rang again. The helicopter had safely arrived over San Cristóbal.

However, just as Nathan was about to take the money he had looted with him, several panicked voices suddenly came from the mobile phone.

"In front..."

"Wait, what is that?"

"airplane!"

"Milton's plane!"

"Take off! Run! We're civilian helicopters, we're unarmed!!!"

"It's too late, they've spotted us, he's coming towards me... We're doomed, ahhh, don't hit me, don't hit me, we surrender, ah—"

"..."

Nathan stared blankly for a long time, then fear suddenly overwhelmed him. He rushed out of the room like a madman, out of the basement, pushed open the bulletproof metal door, and came outside.

The sky was filled with the roar of airplanes. Under the protection of two Dragonfly attack aircraft, a large fleet of oddly shaped planes flew in from the sky.

It looked like Milton had brought over every flying thing he could find.

The two Dragonfly attack aircraft, painted with shark markings, were spewing fire from their Gatling guns at the front of their fuselages... Nathan looked up and saw a small helicopter being hit without any resistance, billowing thick smoke.

boom!
The helicopter exploded in mid-air, turning into countless fragments.

The largest piece of debris fell straight down, landing within 20 meters of Nathan... Along with the debris, the pilot's charred remains also fell.

It’s over.

This was the only thought in Nathan's mind.

They sold their stockpiled grain at a high price and tried to escape, but their helicopter was shot down!

The hope of escape was right before his eyes, but Milton ruthlessly crushed it... Nathan was bewildered and helpless, even forgetting the impending crisis that was right before his eyes.

"Boss! Hide!"

"Milton's plane is here..."

Seeing Nathan standing there blankly outside, the drug dealers quickly dragged him back inside.

"Boss, so what if the helicopter is gone? We're not doomed. It's only five days. We can definitely hold on."

“For five days, I’ll only eat a little and drink some water. What can Milton do to us?”

"Yes, come back... Milton's plane is about to drop bombs!"

It wasn't until he returned to the basement that Nathan finally calmed down a bit.

“Milton is trying to wipe us out…” Nathan’s hands were trembling. “He’s not leaving me any way out, he wants me to die with him, he wants to fight to the death, is that it?!”

"If you just let me go, wouldn't this whole city be his? He has so much spoils of war, he can get so many prisoners of war, isn't that a great victory?!"

"With Chiapas in this state, there are plenty of places to make money, so why target me?!"

"That idiot, that madman!"

Nathan cursed Milton in a fit of rage, completely forgetting that not long ago he had given a speech in public, expressing great ridicule and disdain for Milton.

Of course, while they were cursing, he and all the other drug dealers didn't forget to find a table and hide underneath it.

After venting his anger by yelling, Nathan, who was curled up under the table, suddenly felt that something was wrong.

"Wait... weren't there so many planes coming to bomb the city? Why didn't we hear anything?"

If it gets bombed, the commotion will be huge.

Since coded language hasn't been widely adopted yet, Nathan is hesitant to use radio, so no one reports to him—unless the city faces imminent collapse, no one is allowed to report to him via radio.

Nathan waited a while longer, making sure there was no explosion, before carefully crawling out from under the table, making his way up the stairs, and pushing open the heavy metal door.

Immediately afterwards, a terrifying stench assaulted our senses!

It smells sour, fishy, ​​and has a pungent ammonia odor!

This was beyond unbearable; the stench was so strong it was almost aggressive. Nathan only took a small breath, but he felt the stuff sticking to his nose and throat, and he couldn't get rid of it!

"vomit!!!"

Nathan turned around abruptly, slammed the door shut, and gagged several times.

But this terrifying smell seemed to be seeping into the pure air of the basement little by little through the cracks in the door.

Nathan had a vague idea of ​​what the planes had dropped, but he was still a little afraid to face this despairing reality. He could only hurriedly grab a gas mask, put it on, and open the door again with the other drug dealers to take a look outside.

Excrement scattered all over the ground, a large pile of half-decomposed drug dealer corpses, and suddenly, completely rotting household garbage...

The fleet had already moved far away, but these things kept falling from the sky!

Nathan watched as a corpse covered in green hair crashed down and landed right in front of him!

The corpse's already rotting eyeballs rolled out of their sockets with the impact, rolled twice on the ground, and stared straight at Nathan.

This toxic waste was not only airdropped by plane, but also dumped into the city from all directions, from the areas occupied by Milton...

"Milton's a madman, he's a complete madman, a total psychopath!" The drug dealer, who had vowed to show Milton what true madness was, finally snapped. "He's treating us like a garbage dump!!!"

"Boss... what do we do?" a drug dealer asked cautiously. "We don't seem to have that many gas masks?"

“The hospital!” Nathan saw through Milton’s plan. “He intends to completely cripple our medical capabilities!”

"How vicious, how cruel... If it's just artillery fire, at most it will only destroy the hospital building, but it won't reach the medical supplies hidden in the basement."

"But now..."

"We must immediately take control of medical resources. All medical resources are for our own use only. No one else is allowed to use these medical resources, whether they are about to die or can be cured with a single pill!"

Another drug dealer reminded him, "Boss, most of our food reserves have already been sold. How are we going to solve the food problem? Buy it back?" "Buy my ass!" Nathan cursed, "We'll take it back! We have guns, do you think they'll dare refuse?"

The people who bought the food before were a local gang that used to smuggle drugs here. After CJNG arrived, they took them under their wing...

But now, Nathan doesn't care about any of that anymore.

Let these peripheral drug dealers die!
"Thank goodness, it's cold now. I can't even imagine what it would be like in the summer..." Nathan was about to get into the car when he suddenly noticed that the frequency of bodies being dumped into the city had decreased. "Wait!"

No sooner had the words left his mouth than a terrifying roar of engines echoed through the sky!

Nathan was practically going crazy—Milton's "offensive" had been relentless from the start, giving him no time to rest or think.

Faced with the plane, Nathan could only awkwardly get out of the car and crawl back into the basement.

Boom boom boom...

Unlike before when they only dropped corpses and garbage, this time the fleet dropped incendiary bombs!

Fire shot into the sky!

At this point, Nathan didn't even care about what he had said before. He turned on the radio and shouted, "Report! Report! What are the casualties? What's the state of the defenses? Speak!!!"

More than ten seconds later, a drug dealer replied in a tearful voice, "Boss, this fire doesn't seem as powerful as the legends say, but... but... we'd rather the fire were more powerful!"

"Those corpses and garbage were already horrible enough, and then this little fire..."

"Many of our brothers fainted!"

"..."

Burning can kill the plague, provided it is done thoroughly!

The incendiary bombs Milton used this time were clearly not the kind used on the battlefield, such as napalm bombs, which are known as "Satan's spittle"...

He was simply creating highly toxic fumes while simultaneously destroying CJNG's fuel reserves.

In the future of siege warfare, all timber, even the wooden houses, will be a source of fuel...

This fire will severely damage San Cristo's defenses once again!
Nathan gritted his teeth and shouted, "Water, you bunch of idiots..."

He fell silent halfway through his speech.

In San Cristória, water is just as precious as fuel.

Nathan silently turned off the radio, ignoring the other drug dealers' advice, and went down to the ground level. Through the shattered glass, he looked at the raging fire outside and at the city that had become a living hell.

The casualties in the city were not serious, but Nathan could already vaguely see the tragedy that would soon happen in the city.

What was even more suffocating than the poison gas was Milton's relentless, interconnected attacks, each targeting a different point.

Nathan felt as if he had returned to his school days, when strict teachers would give him one question after another, and before he could even solve the previous one, the next one would come along.

That annoying teacher was shot dead by 12-year-old Nathan with an AK-74—Nathan gave this teacher, who preferred imperial units, a taste of metric units.

5.45×39mm bullets.

Nathan then went further and further down the path of depravity, until today.

……

Two days later, in Comitan.

At this moment, many citizens took to the streets, looking at the recruitment advertisements plastered all over the city with hesitant expressions.

Because of the war, no one could find a job, so it would be something everyone would welcome if someone offered them a job.

But... the content of this job is just too hardcore.

Go to the front lines and repair houses!

Although the salary is high, judging from the job description, it is also very dangerous!

buzzing...

The planes flying overhead are irrefutable proof of the fierce fighting taking place on the front lines.

Milton even built a runway and a forward airfield in Comitan to ensure that planes could take off and land in waves at the fastest speed and drop things on the enemy.

In an inconspicuous building not far from a recruitment point, Milton glanced out the window at the situation outside.

"How's it going? Are there many applicants?"

“Yes, there is a lot,” Flora reported. “The main attraction is that it provides very good food… Relief food can only keep people from starving to death, but the feeling of hunger is still very serious. Alas, people are willing to sell their lives for a bite to eat.”

"It looks dangerous, but it's not to the point of risking their lives, and they don't need to fight." Milton waved his hand. "How's the bombing situation at the front?"

“The long-dormant radio monitoring system has picked up something again.” Flora couldn’t help but laugh. “Nathan is furious; it seems you’ve really given him a hard time.”

"For two consecutive days, they kept throwing corpses, garbage, and excrement into that area at a high density, and occasionally they even burned them...tsk tsk."

“The entire city is now shrouded in thick fog, many people have fallen ill, there is rampant disease, and food and medical resources are severely scarce.”

"According to our estimates, San Cristó’s resources can last for 15 days, but the city may not be able to hold out for that long. Every hour, the situation in the city is deteriorating at a visible rate."

Milton nodded: "What about the situation with the Chiapas state government... It's a pity that Fede was so lucky; he managed to escape unscathed, suffering only minor injuries."

Flora rolled her eyes: "Others, despite their injuries, held a press conference to harshly condemn Vic and you, and now they're declaring a state of emergency and mobilizing all their resources to target us."

“My original plan was to besiege the enemy and then attack their reinforcements,” Milton said nonchalantly. “Delaying them for a few days would be enough… Now, two days have passed and the garrison at San Cristó is in this state. I don’t even want to think about what will happen in three more days.”

Milton knew the state government was going to launch an attack in five days for a simple reason: the state government itself had said so—it was reported in the newspapers and on the news.

Of course, he didn't completely believe these reports and made thorough preparations for a possible enemy attack.

"Let's go, let's go see the front lines."

Milton picked up his gas mask, got up, went downstairs, got into an armored vehicle, and left Comitan, disappearing into the distance under the respectful gaze of many.

Soon, Milton saw thick black smoke rising in the distance.

A cloud of black smoke almost enveloped an entire small city!
On the way to the front lines, Milton could see trucks carrying garbage and excrement, and various planes whizzing overhead.

"I can't imagine what San Cristória is like now..." Flora looked at these things and sighed, "But why did you keep their waterworks?"

“It’s going to explode soon. I came to the front lines for this.” Milton explained, “It’s a psychological offensive. Instead of taking everything away at once, it’s better to take it away slowly… Without a water plant, is it really impossible to do anything? Wells aren’t as efficient, but they can still be used as a substitute.”

"Psychological offensives are about launching wave after wave."

After that, Milton's team arrived at the front line.

At this moment, the front line was filled with a large number of strange-looking "cannons" that were half-buried in the ground, and the soldiers were working hard to stuff huge "cannonballs" into the cannon barrels and fire them toward San Cristo.

However, these cannons are not howitzers.

Instead, it was a simple homemade cannon made from rough steel pipes, which Milton called the "Hell Cannon".

With just a section of steel pipe, a little modification is needed to remove the rust. Bury it in the ground, and it can be transformed into a homemade cannon. It is inexpensive, easy to make, and you can easily make a whole bunch of them.

The caliber was very large, and the shells were made of gas cylinders piled up next to it, filled with various "biological weapons." By igniting the propellant made of fertilizer and sugar, these gas cylinders could be blasted into the city...

It is highly efficient and the cost is controllable.

This method was naturally taught to the soldiers by Milton—of course, this cannon was very dangerous and not as simple as many people thought.

For example, figuring out exactly how much chamber pressure a water pipe can withstand is a very difficult problem to solve.

Therefore, to ensure a safer launch and increase the amount of propellant, the water pipes or gasoline drums had to be buried in compacted soil to increase the strength of the cannon barrel. This is the origin of the term "heartless cannon."

The depiction in the movie of using thin gasoline drums as cannon barrels is not entirely accurate.

"I really can't believe you could even make something like this," Flora exclaimed. "Is this some kind of common sense?"

“That’s called intelligence,” Milton shrugged. “It’s just bombing anyway, so we don’t need that much accuracy. This thing is just right.”

“A dozen or so at each position…and countless positions.” Flora nodded. “This level of firepower reminds me of Van Fleet’s ammunition capacity.”

“Van Fleet threw explosives,” Milton corrected earnestly. “Mine is different; I threw shit.”

“Hmm, I think after this war is over, a new military term will emerge, called ‘Milton ammunition quantity’,” Flora said seriously. “From ‘Mound of Jing’ to ‘Milton ammunition quantity’, you’re really creating more and more new terms.”

"The biggest problem is that this city will definitely come into our hands in the future, so how do we clean up the pollution inside?"

Milton said calmly, "Aren't there so many drug dealers inside? As the defeated, let them take charge of this kind of thing—clean up the city and they'll have food to eat, otherwise they'll starve to death inside."

Flora straightened up immediately upon hearing this: "Oh? You actually provide food for drug dealers? With your style, letting them starve to death would be merciful, wouldn't it? Besides, our logistics are also under strain; can we really provide that much food to feed drug dealers?"

“I know a place with plenty of food, enough to feed at least half the people of San Cristóbal.”

Flora was overjoyed: "Oh? There's such a place? Where is it?"

Milton raised his hand and pointed to the city of San Cristo, which was shrouded in thick smoke: "There are at least a thousand drug dealers there."

Flora paused for a moment: "Uh, I meant, where can I find extra food to give to drug dealers..."

“That’s right,” Milton said casually. “I told you, there are thousands of drug dealers.”

Flora pondered blankly for a while, then suddenly her expression changed drastically: "Holy crap!"

(End of this chapter)