Taxes are only within machine gun range!

Chapter 23 Hell Tax Collector
In a secluded park in a valley on the border of Mexico and Weihai, in the central, largest, and safest house.

"…Recently, a large-scale armed conflict broke out in the Los Cocos community of Tapachula, Chiapas state, Mexico, resulting in at least 120 deaths and 200 injuries. It is reported that this was a shootout between two local gangs. Local police were unable to control the situation."

"Russian shock therapy faces a major failure..."

"US President Clinton signed a new round of sanctions against Iraq..."

"The turmoil caused by the death of drug lord Pablo Escobar continues..."

"Missing persons cases remain frequent in border areas..."

"..."

"A violent explosion occurred on an old street in Malacan, San Marcos Province, Guatemala. The extent of casualties is currently unknown, and our reporter is still following up on the situation."

Inside the room, Raul Montoya, the leader of the Van Cong gang, leisurely sipped tea, smoked expensive Cuban cigars, and occasionally glanced at the massive color television.

“Mr. Raul.” At that moment, a henchman walked in, his face beaming with excitement. “We’ve outnumbered them and wiped out Coco’s gang! We’ll be able to take over the business in this area right away!”

"Now we only have a little bit of finishing work left, and many people want to join us, which greatly increases the gang's strength!"

Raul took a drag of his cigarette, flicked the ash into the ashtray, and nodded: "Good. This way, we'll have more trump cards when facing that old fox, Varta."

The younger brother smiled smugly and said, "Perfect timing, their people are right outside."

As soon as he finished speaking, there was a knock on the door, and Varta's confidant Carlos walked in carrying stacks of documents.

Good morning, Mr. Raul.

Raul slammed his cigarette on the table and asked, "You've heard about our victory, haven't you?"

Carlos nodded: "Congratulations on your success. This will make our cooperation even smoother, won't it?"

After consolidating the businesses of rival gangs, the strength of the Fan Kang Gang will surge in less than a week.

If they sign the contract now, Fan Kangbang will get even more!

Raul chuckled, intending to lay everything out on the table: "Carlos, I'm saying..."

Bang bang bang!
Suddenly, there was a frantic knocking on the door.

Raul's face darkened as he was interrupted. He reached for the gold-plated Browning M1935 holster at his waist, intending to teach this impolite subordinate a lesson.

However, when the door was opened, several panicked-looking henchmen were standing outside.

Raul was a very cautious man, and he immediately realized that something was wrong.

"Take your time, don't panic in front of the guests. Tell me, is it Coco's gang launching a counterattack? How many of them came? How many of us have we lost?"

"No, no!" The leader shook his head violently. "It's not about that!"

It wasn't a gang fight that caused the problem... Raul breathed a sigh of relief, but also felt a little strange.

What could possibly be causing them such a panic?

Raul put down the M1935 and took a drag of his cigarette: "Speak, say it all at once."

"Yes, someone sent you a ticket..."

"A ticket?!" Raul interrupted his underling, laughing angrily. "Have we taken down enough cops? We've already bribed the local police chiefs. A ticket has scared you like this? Did the CIA issue this ticket? Show it to me, let's see who's fearless."

The young man's face still showed fear. He carefully handed over the box he was carrying, shaking his head as he said, "No, it's not from Mexico."

Not from Mexico? Then where else could it be?

Raul was even more puzzled. He took the box and glanced inside.

There was a three-second silence in the room.

Immediately afterwards, his roar echoed throughout the entire valley.

It was a deformed human head, a mixture of pain, despair, and fear, as if it had suffered horrific torture in life. How could Raul not recognize this person?

He was one of Raul's most trusted confidants, and had saved Raul's life in a conflict. It was just a matter of putting on a show, sending him to the easiest place to rack up some achievements before promoting him!

To prevent any accidents, Raul spent over $6 on his equipment alone!
Smuggling that set of ABA Xtreme IV heavy body armor, which meets NIJ IV standards, cost over $5 and left me with a lot of favors.

No more than four people in the entire gang receive this treatment!

But he died just like that, and his enemies even desecrated his body and humiliated the entire Fan Kang gang with a ticket.

No one can trample on them like this. Anyone who dares to do so will pay the price with their life—not just one life!
Fan Kang's gang made this person, his relatives, his friends, and his neighbors pay a bloody price!
“Good, very good.” Raul gripped the blood-stained ticket tightly, nodding repeatedly. “500 million dollars, Milton Mings, very good, I’ll remember that name.”

The underling's voice trembled as he said, "Boss...should we send a few more men to take him out?"

"With FN FAL, wearing heavy body armor, and leading 11 men, Milton wiped them all out. Where can we possibly find a stronger team now?" Raul said coldly. "Let's deal with things in Mexico. Five days, is that alright?"

By then, the Van Conn gang, now greatly strengthened, will use a force that Milton could not possibly resist to utterly crush him.

"no problem!"

……

Malacan town, police station.

A police officer stood up with a fearful expression, shook hands with the man in front of him, and said, "Mr. Milton, you can leave now. Have a nice weekend."

“We reiterate to you that this invitation is for questioning only, not for detention! We have washed your car and parked it outside.”

The news that a mad prosecutor, accompanied by a policeman, had massacred 11 heavily armed gangsters had spread throughout their circle.

The image of Milton crawling out of the rubble carrying a severed head deeply shocked everyone.

The police officer who worked with him even remarked to his colleagues, "Even Jesus would have to pay taxes if he met him."

Brandon directly called Milton "Hell Tax Collector"!
This terrifying title further highlights Milton's power and dreadfulness.

However, while shocked, most people had already labeled Milton as a "dead man" in their minds.

This prosecutor and Fan Kangbang are mortal enemies; he probably won't live much longer.

Milton had offended Van Came's gang before, but at least he had a chance to escape. Now...

Of course, no one had any intention of making a move against Milton.

Before you take action, think about whether you are more capable than the 11 assassins sent by Fan Kang's gang.

They're the kind of people who'd kill their whole family at the drop of a hat. Just watch them fight it out; normal people shouldn't mess with them.

……

At the police station entrance, Brandon stood next to the pickup truck. Seeing Milton come out, he quickly went up to him: "Boss, you're out? Did my colleagues give you any trouble?"

"Holy crap, can you believe it? Those guys with noses bigger than their eyes, they practically wanted to bury their heads in the ground when they saw you!"

"The guys from the Joint Operations Division said they've seen the most cold-blooded serial killer, and even after killing 11 people, they didn't have such a calm expression as you!"

That's because I hadn't slept all night, my mind was a complete mess, and I was too sleepy to make any expressions.

I am not a serial killer...

Milton, too lazy to explain further, got into the passenger seat and said, "Get in, hurry up."

"Uh, where to?" Brandon got into the car in a daze and started the engine. "I've been granted a month of administrative leave, which gives me some freedom to move around during this time."

Administrative leave doesn't mean a complete vacation; Brandon still has to go to the police station for questioning or psychological counseling, but he has more free time than usual.

“Go collect the money.” Milton opened the glove box, pulled out a TEC-9 submachine gun, and placed it on his lap. “Let’s see what the Van Conn gang and ‘the boss’ left us.”

I conquered the world with martial arts, he conquered the world with literature.
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(End of this chapter)