Taxes are only within machine gun range!

Chapter 317 Change of Dynasty
Milton wants to meet...

Arsu's mood plummeted. He wanted to say something, but when he opened his mouth, he found the towel still stuck in his mouth.

At this moment, his expensive clothes were stained with blood and mud, and people would believe he was a homeless man who had been brought from a slum on the roadside.

The platoon leader yanked the towel off Arsu's mouth, lifted him onto the armored vehicle like a chick, and threw him into the cramped and narrow infantry fighting vehicle compartment.

Then he turned around and looked at the passenger plane, whose fire had been suppressed.

Beneath the passenger plane, soldiers, crew, and passengers were separated into different groups and strictly guarded.

The most nervous people were not the soldiers who knew their fate, but rather the passengers, whose faces were filled with trepidation as they cautiously looked at the heavily armed and indifferent "enemy troops."

Everyone had heard of Milton's infamous reputation as the "Hell Tax Collector," and they wondered how Milton would deal with those who bought plane tickets to escape at the last minute.

What if Milton is in a bad mood and kills everyone here?
Logically, after an air crash, all passengers should be transferred to at least one room with water and food. But in this emergency landing, all the passengers were treated as if they were being punished by being made to stand still. Except for the children, everyone could only shiver in the cold wind and wait for their judgment.

The platoon leader looked at these people with a mocking expression on his face.

"What, are you scared now?"

"Is it a terrible thing to just stay in Guatemala City and wait for the 'Godfather' to come, to wait for the new world to arrive? Is the old world something you miss so much?"

"Does leaving Arsu's rule terrify you so much?"

"..."

The passengers trembled even more violently, but no one dared to say a word.

It's not that there weren't any skilled debaters among these elites who could afford plane tickets even during the war, nor that the platoon leader was so eloquent that no one could out-argue him.

It was the machine guns on the armored vehicles that were aimed at them that were truly terrifying.

Passengers who had just experienced the "airborne roller coaster" dared not gamble on the other side suddenly showing mercy, and dared not fire their guns or cannons.

If they dare to shoot down civilian airliners, what else wouldn't they dare to do?
The platoon leader glanced at the group of cowards who were keeping their heads down and remained silent, shook his head and sneered: "Don't worry, Mr. 'Godfather' doesn't kill every creature. Your value is not enough to dirty his hands... On the contrary, he has very mercifully given you two choices."

The passengers suddenly looked up at the platoon leader.

"The first option is to stay. Everyone, pay all the taxes you owe, and the 'Hell Tax Collector' will reserve a place for you in the new world."

"The second option... is to get out. Pay a departure tax, and go wherever you want, preferably far away. Otherwise, once the 'Hell Tax Collector' takes over that territory, you'll have to pay another departure tax if you want to keep leaving, understand?"

"Choose."

After saying that, the platoon leader didn't look back, got into the armored vehicle that was holding former President Arsu, and led the convoy away from the airport, heading straight for the military airfield.

Helicopters were prepared well in advance to transport Arzu to Guatemala City, to the former presidential palace.

No, not long ago, this place belonged to Arsu, and he escaped from here by plane.

After the president fled by plane, almost all the soldiers chose to lay down their weapons and welcome Milton's troops into the city, and the little resistance they had was wiped out.

Of course, there were some troops that did resist to the end. A small, cobbled-together armored squad charged Milton's army and then vanished like a drop of water in the ocean.

Later, while inspecting the wreckage, Milton's soldiers discovered that the leader of this last squad was General Reggie, whom countless people ridiculed as the "transport captain."

One of the senior generals of the joint command, a general who once briefly stopped the "Hell Tax Collector".

However, due to Milton's propaganda offensive and the over-politicization of military affairs by the Arsou civilian government, the general lost command.

Now, even this general, who was the most steadfast supporter of the resistance, has fallen on the battlefield.

beep...

Several helicopters flew overhead and landed on the military helipad.

Arsu was roughly pushed off the plane and thrown into an armored prison van, which headed towards the presidential palace in Guatemala City.

“Take a good look, Mr. President, at this city that once belonged to you, at this country that once belonged to you.”

Looking at this familiar road, a hint of confusion flashed across Arsu's face.

Along the way, you can see many military vehicles protecting food trucks, distributing simple food to residents. There are also a large number of fearless workers who risk their lives to go deep into every part of the city while the war is not yet completely over, making some kind of record with banknotes.

This city, which had just changed hands, did not seem to have suffered much from the ravages of war.

No… the order in the city seems to be even better than before.

Before Arsu left, the order in Guatemala City was on the verge of collapse. Large numbers of men of different ages were forcibly dragged to the battlefield without explanation, various supplies were forcibly confiscated in the name of "general mobilization," and women were forced to sell their bodies.

Medical and food prices have skyrocketed... People who can't survive have caused immense unrest in the city. If it weren't for the conscription office constantly recruiting men, Guatemala City would probably have already seen unprecedented protests and demonstrations.

But now... Milton's army has only just entered the city, and hasn't even taken over administration yet, and the city that was about to explode has fallen silent.

Arsu watched as those who, in order to avoid the battlefield, even engaged in gunfights with the recruiters, and who were denounced as "traitors," "social trash," and "country bumpkins," quietly accepted orders, and the city seemed utterly unfamiliar to him.

Including those "conscripts" who would only move forward when forced by machine guns on the previous battlefield, once they arrived at Milton's side, it was as if they were possessed by a demon, and they instantly became fearless of death and dared to fill the machine gun holes with their bodies!

Are these damn people really welcoming Milton, this terrorist from the border?!
"Ha! A bunch of traitors, this country is beyond saving..."

The platoon leader couldn't hold back: "Are you the kind of driver who yells at everyone for driving the wrong way?"

Another soldier said coldly, "President Arsu... let's call you that for now. You may not remember me, but I remember you."

His voice was filled with intense hatred.

Arsu was a little confused: "Who are you?"

"The traitor you speak of, you dragged my grandfather and my father to the battlefield, and they both died... Now your men have come and dragged me to the battlefield too, completely disregarding that I'm the only man left in the family, completely disregarding that there's an unemployed woman in our family, completely disregarding that we have a child," the soldier said coldly. "You colluded with foreigners, massacring our own people, yet you lied to us, saying you were protecting your country, turning us into knives in the hands of the Americans. Arsu, how dare you still call us traitors?"

"Come on, let me ask you a question. Do you know how many people in our community have died because of one of your orders?"

Arsu felt uneasy, as if he were being randomly selected by the teacher to recite, and his voice lowered slightly: "Dozens? A hundred?"

"On the day I left, there were hardly any living people left in our community—I'll tell you the answer, it was almost all of them."

Arsu paused for a moment, then forced himself to explain, "That's all Milton's fault. If Milton hadn't started the war, you wouldn't have had to go to the battlefield at all..." "All I know is that on the battlefield, your supervisory team pointed a machine gun at me and sent me to my death," the soldier said slowly. "And my former platoon leader took a fatal bullet for me... Do you know who that platoon leader was? He used to be a member of the guerrillas, the guerrillas we slaughtered for nearly decades."

“He called me ‘comrade-in-arms,’ he pulled me to the table to eat with him, and he took a bullet for me.”

"From that moment on, I knew which side was in the right, and I wouldn't allow you to argue."

Arsu finally felt a pang of sadness: "I..."

"Your citizens have so many questions for you, and you actually have the nerve to ask them questions?"

Arsu was no longer able to speak; he had no way to say anything more to a man who had lost everything.

Boom boom boom...

Without waiting for Arsu to recover, the infantry fighting vehicle convoy had already arrived at the entrance of the presidential palace.

The place was in a mess, but it was heavily guarded, and there was no chaos like when Arsu fled.

"Get out of the car, Your Excellency," the soldier said coldly, suppressing his hatred. "You know where to go, and you know what dignity is."

Arsu felt the shackles binding his hands being removed and heard a voice behind him.

He stumbled out of the car, and what came into view were guards standing watch with rifles in hand, but with their eyes fixed straight ahead, and tanks with their cannons pointed outside.

Just as the soldier said, Arsu could only choose to be dignified—as a legitimate president, being killed by a cannon shot was hardly a dignified end; he could easily be considered one of the most tragically killed presidents.

To become famous in the world in this way is rather abstract.

Besides...

Arsu believed he still had one card in his hand.

"At least... for now, I am still the legitimate president of this country."

"Milton wants to take over power as smoothly as possible, and wants his regime to be recognized internationally as a legitimate government as quickly as possible, so that he can become the supreme leader of the country. Cooperating with me is the best choice. My value in living is far greater than my value in dying."

Thinking of this, Arsu's anxious mood eased a little, and he started walking towards the Presidential Palace.

He knew Milton would be waiting in the president's office, and Arsu knew this route all too well—the only difference was that Milton didn't seem to like having the lights on. Although the presidential palace wasn't completely dark, the lighting wasn't very bright either, and he couldn't see many things clearly.

Fortunately, Arsu was very familiar with this road and could walk it with his eyes closed.

Not only was the road familiar, but everyone on the road was a familiar face to me.

Of course... these people were not his confidants, but rather people he had once hated to the core.

Flora, Brandon, Ismaila, Juan, Matteo, Oria... and so on, were all faintly visible in the darkness, standing in different positions, but all of them, without giving Arsu a second glance, let him walk past them.

Many of the items that used to be placed in the corridor have been moved, becoming asymmetrical, which is very unpleasant to look at.

Add to that the dim lighting...

A sense of dread crept over me.

For the first time, Arsu realized that the presidential office, which he knew so well, could be so terrifying.

He swallowed hard, his hands trembling, and pushed open the door to the office that had once belonged to him.

That terrifying face, which he had only ever seen on television and in newspapers, was now clearly reflected in Arsu's eyes.

The real person is even more terrifying than the photo.

Arsu looked at the chair placed to the side of the desk, almost completely in the dark, hesitated for a moment, but finally didn't dare to sit down.

Arsu took a deep breath only after Milton hung up the phone and turned to look at him.

He had neither the inclination nor the courage to waste words... It was better to get straight to the point when dealing with someone like Milton.

“You’ve won, you’ve won completely.” Arsu sighed. “This country is yours now… However, a military victory doesn’t mean a complete victory. You didn’t kill me, and you summoned me here, presumably for this reason, right?”

Seeing that Milton remained silent, Arsu continued, "As long as you spare my life... I only need a reasonable amount of freedom. I'm willing to represent the old government and peacefully transfer power to you. How about it? Anyway, killing me now won't do you any good."

Only then did Milton finally let out a soft chuckle: "How about that? Arsu, you truly are a politician. Even at this point, you still have the mind to negotiate with me? Have you forgotten who I am?"

"you……"

“You can refuse to cooperate, you can refuse a peaceful transfer of power.” Milton’s voice was calm and gentle, without a trace of anger. “If you still hold this view an hour from now—you should know that a well-trained CIA agent stayed in my hotel for several nights and is now receiving treatment in a mental hospital in the United States, right?”

Arsu took a deep breath: "So, you mean I have to unconditionally hand over power to you, and then you kill me?"

“Heh... alright, looks like you really need some dignity.” Milton was surprisingly easy to talk to. “No problem, once the procedures are complete, you’ll be free to leave the presidential palace. My men and I won’t kill you or arrest you—I’m not interested in playing those low-level word games.”

"Really?!"

"You have no choice but to believe me, don't you?"

"Okay! I agree to your request. I hope you won't go back on your word."

Milton smiled. "I advise you to say as little nonsense as possible and not test my patience as much as possible before I change my mind, Your Excellency."

This country is about to undergo a "dynastic change"!

The process, which involved only a former president under house arrest, and the documents he signed, can hardly be considered a complete "transfer of power." It does not mean that Milton's "Pan Madre Group" was a legitimate government, but it at least cleared many obstacles for it to become a legitimate government later.

Alsudden felt a wave of relief and let out a long breath. Thinking of closing the distance between himself and Milton, he casually asked, "Milton... I should call you 'President' now, right? What was that phone call you just made?"

Milton waved his hand: "First, I am only responsible for military affairs and do not intend to completely interfere in administration."

"Secondly... I just contacted my Ministry of Culture and Tourism and asked them to prepare a grand cultural tourism project in Guatemala City, the kind that's open to the whole country. I'm different from you; I want to revive the economy."

Arsu shrugged upon hearing this, offering no explanation, and continued jokingly, "Oh, so will I have a chance to participate then?"

Milton paused, looking at Arsu with a very strange gaze, before finally saying, "Of course."

(End of this chapter)