Taxes are only within machine gun range!

Chapter 40 This time it's really big!
The Colt python has two six-inch barrels, and its engraved barrels and royal blue plating are works of art. It is carefully maintained.

It is worth at least $4000.

But what shocked Milton the most was not the two ornate revolvers, but the four unassuming black walkie-talkies; and a black box the size of a military lunchbox—it was like a miniature laptop, with an old-fashioned calculator-like LCD screen on the upright front panel and a simple keyboard below.

Brandon curiously leaned closer and reached out to touch the thing: "Boss, what's this new and interesting thing?"

Milton slapped away the outstretched hand, his voice trembling: "You fucking, you fucking... do you even know what this thing is?! You just touched it?"

Brandon was startled: "What is this? Is it a bomb?!"

"This is a tactical programming terminal! It's the thing that generates frequency hopping seed keys for walkie-talkies. This is a whole set of military frequency hopping walkie-talkies!" Milton's hands were shaking with excitement. "This thing is impossible to buy. What kind of shady stuff are they up to that they need to be so careful?"

As far as I know, this kind of lightweight frequency-hopping radio will not be available on the market for some time. It is currently in the development and testing stage, and even the active-duty US military has not used it yet!
It looks somewhat like the VX-168 from Vertex, but it's a bit bulkier and might have battery life issues. It's probably a prototype.

But that's enough! This is a frequency-hopping walkie-talkie!

In the future, when facing even more powerful enemies, we won't have to worry about our communication devices being monitored!

In terms of pure utility, compared to this thing, those two Colt Python revolvers can be directly classified as "junk".

Having this equipment means that Milton can always maintain an information advantage in tactical communication... or at least remain invincible!

What a huge advantage.

Although Veronica didn't understand much of what was being said, she knew that this frequency-hopping walkie-talkie was a communication device with excellent encryption capabilities, something only someone with a powerful background and a lot of money could acquire.

She paused for a moment, then said, "I'm suddenly a little glad that Walker and the others destroyed that batch of evidence... because that was definitely not something we could handle."

"It's alright. As long as the important information hasn't been leaked, the police station will have to keep quiet and cover it up so that higher-ups don't find out, lest they all get caught up in it."

Brandon sneered, "No wonder Pedro was so eager to take over the waste treatment plant; he was hiding something really good."

Milton swallowed hard. "Load this equipment into the car and take it back. Be careful not to bump or damage it! I'm not exaggerating when I say this little box is ten times more valuable than gold of the same size."

This time they really made a fortune.

Not only did they wipe out the remaining strength of Fan Kang's gang in the town and cut off one of their sources of funding, but they also gained a large sum of cash, 70 red points, and even found the most advanced tactical equipment available today!
Imagine how disastrous it would be if the enemy had radio listening equipment and could hear Milton's tactical instructions clearly during the battle.
This will never happen again after today.

The four men carried their spoils onto the battered Chevrolet Caprice.

Milton looked at the nearly totaled car and said to Brandon, "Your car was damaged during a mission, and the repair costs will be subsidized from the team's funds."

When you're in a good mood, you become more generous.

Brandon, who had received more than $2 in cash from the pharmacy and the garbage disposal plant, immediately shrugged and shook his head: "No, boss, this really won't do. I've taken enough. I can't take any more. My conscience won't allow me to do it again."

Milton frowned: "Business is business, and personal matters are personal matters."

But this time Brandon refused to take the money no matter what, and gave a reasonable reason: "Hey boss, my car is legally registered and insured. We don't need to pay for the repairs ourselves."

As for whether he would be denied insurance, Brandon believed that no one who had heard of the "Hell Tax Collector" would dare to do so.

“Okay.” Milton wouldn’t be coy if he could spend other people’s money. “The team will reimburse you for the premium increase next year.”

The group got into the car and started their journey home.

The victors finally relaxed.

"Ah! I feel so much better!"

"Seriously, the boss is so generous."

"Life suddenly feels so much better..."

Veronica shook her head and exclaimed, "I've never seen so much money in my life! My God, $20,000! I've worked at the checkpoint for four years and I've never earned $20,000 in a year."

"The Colt Python... It seems like all those powerful mob godfathers like this gun. I always said you have the potential to be a godfather, even Jesus was hinting at it."

Milton's forehead vein throbbed: "I'm just collecting taxes, I'm not a gangster, I'm not the Godfather!"

"Boss, what are we going to do next? I'm sticking with you, the only way to make big money is by following you!"

Milton immediately poured cold water on his teammates: "Next, we need to quickly find a way to convert the money into fighting power and prepare to resist the Van Conn gang and other forces' open and covert attacks." "The war between the Van Conn gang and another gang is about to end. Once they have free time, they will definitely come to retaliate. As for the police station and checkpoints, needless to say, after today, we will be mortal enemies with Chief Pedro."

Lutz's expression fell: "Boss, can't you just let us be happy for a while...?"

Suddenly I lost my appetite.

Brandon quickly recovered from the joy of making a lot of money—you have to be alive to spend it, not just to earn it.

"I remember the 'boss' has a pretty good relationship with an arms dealer. Maybe we can try our luck with him when we get back and see how we can strengthen our forces?"

“Okay.” Milton nodded. “Go back and rest first, then find an arms dealer to trade for some equipment.”

"..."

Soon, the group returned to the old street and prepared to park their car in the garage.

Along the way, Milton heard many people talking about the "Hell Tax Collector".

Milton was getting increasingly agitated by what he heard.

We really can't let Brandon spread rumors anymore; we have to find a way to get rid of this awful nickname!

Before parking, Milton suddenly saw a familiar figure loitering around him.

Horn? The informant I planted at the checkpoint? What's he doing here?
"You all rest first, I'm going to see someone."

Milton got out of the car with a puzzled look on his face.

Brandon quickly tossed the car keys to his teammate in the back seat and followed, saying, "Boss, I'm going with you!"

Soon, the two arrived in front of Horn.

Milton nodded to him and asked, "Looking for me? What's up?"

Horn looked at this familiar yet unfamiliar colleague, his expression a mix of complexity and fear: "Um... well, the information you asked me to gather before, I've compiled it for you, see if it's useful."

"Then, here is a letter of appointment from the station chief. He promoted you to inspection supervisor, which means... in theory, you are in charge of all the customs duties and people in Malakan town. But, as you know, the rank system at our checkpoint is just for show... You still don't have any real power. It's just that this matter has become a bit big, so the station chief had to promote you to save face."

"Oh, and there's an awards ceremony at the police station tomorrow, Officer Brandon has to go."

"Maynard seems to want to negotiate with you."

"And the Fan Kang gang..."

He's connected to everyone; he's a born middleman.

Milton raised his hand, took all the intelligence from his hands, and said, "Wait here for a moment."

After saying that, he turned and went into the illegal pharmacy, put the documents away, and took the keys to his Toyota SR5 pickup truck.

Once outside, Milton tossed the car keys to Horn before nodding and saying, "Go on, what happened to the Van Conn gang?"

Horn, holding the car keys, looked a little bewildered: "Wait a minute... what's this?"

"Your reward."

I felt bad about blowing up someone's new car last time, and since Milton was also planning to change cars, I decided to give Horn my old car as payment.

A flicker of shock and confusion crossed Horn's eyes. He instinctively shook his head: "No, I can't..."

He cultivated good relationships with everyone he met, just to survive, and never asked for any reward—nor did he dare ask the "Hell Tax Collector" for any reward.

Milton raised his hand and pressed down, interrupting him: "Tell me, what happened to the Van Cameron gang?"

Horn stared blankly at the car keys in his hand, suddenly feeling a very unfamiliar and complicated emotion.

He suddenly had an urge to tell Milton everything he knew, word for word.

"The Van Con gang has won a major victory in the gang war in Mexico. Station Chief Varta has already led his men to finalize the cooperation agreement with Raul! They'll be turning their attention to you soon!"

(End of this chapter)