Taxes are only within machine gun range!

Chapter 42 Change of Face
Old streets, illegal pharmacies.

"The generator's diesel fuel has been replenished... The water purifier and water pump are working properly."

Brandon checked the equipment and glanced around.

He pulled a $100 bill from his pocket, carefully examined Franklin's ugly face on the bill, a look of deep reluctance on his face, then quickly turned around and stuffed it into the hand of Leah, who was cleaning nearby.

"Little friend, take this."

Leah was terrified by the huge sum of money. She quickly shook her head, "Uncle Brandon, I, I can't accept this... Are you, are you going to kick me out?"

Could this be severance pay?

Milton, who had been sitting to the side deep in thought, casually interjected, "He's just made a fortune lately, take it if you can."

Brandon tried to avoid looking at the $100 bill, leaned closer to Milton, and asked, "Hey boss, what are you thinking about?"

Milton took a sip of water and said, "I'm thinking about how we can recruit more reliable people, since our team is currently too small."

"Didn't Lutz and Veronica just join us? Aren't we short-handed?"

Milton scoffed: "Those two can hardly be considered combat personnel... Letting them fight a battle of yesterday's intensity is the limit; they simply can't handle anything stronger."

The two men's role in the team remains fieldwork, responsible for handling miscellaneous taxes and dealing with street thugs, rather than direct combat personnel.

Internal affairs, field operations, and combat are fundamentally different.

Brandon is barely capable of handling high-intensity combat missions, while the other two are not quite up to the task.

Moreover, even if Luz and Veronica were forced to fight, four people would still be far from enough.

To ensure that someone is on guard at the illegal pharmacy 24 hours a day, at least two people need to work in shifts.

How can the remaining two fight?
"How about we reinforce our bunker?" Brandon suggested after thinking for a moment, "And continue fighting them indoors?"

Milton shook his head decisively, his tone resolute: "They won't suffer the same loss twice. Next time they come, they'll definitely bring a lot of explosives. We won't be able to hold out."

Brandon then offered another idea: "Hmm... I heard that the civil war here is almost over, and there are a lot of mercenaries who either have nothing to do or want to use our situation to go north and make some money off the uprising... How about we find some mercenaries?"

"After word got out that we attacked the hospital, a lot of people started hiring security. These cheap mercenaries are doing pretty well now... But those guys who were asking for high prices before, they either voluntarily took pay cuts or got fired, haha!"

Speaking of mercenaries, Milton recalled seeing mercenaries plastering flyers and advertisements everywhere trying to solicit business, which made him marvel at the absurdity of this strange little country.

However, Milton shook his head: "The mercenaries here are all money-grubbing types who will do anything for a fee. They may have some professional skills, but they are too unreliable."

If the "boss" had been replaced by a mercenary during the previous pharmacy war, they might have surrendered long ago, or even defected.

Moreover, the vast majority of mercenaries don't have good equipment—the well-equipped, heavily armed, and fearless mercenaries in movies do not represent the majority.

Brandon was at a loss. He gave a wry smile and said, "There's really nothing we can do. We're in a terrible situation right now, and we don't have any control over the authorities... If I controlled the police station, or if you, boss, controlled the checkpoint, things would be much simpler."

Milton thought for a moment and asked, "You and 'the boss' have been operating in the black market for so long, do you have any reliable channels that we can use? We can't think of a way to recruit people, but others might be able to."

“Maybe,” Brandon thought for a moment and replied, “but the scope will definitely not be too large. If the news gets out, it’s a minor issue if malicious people come, but if they recruit spies from the Van Kang gang, we’re finished.”

Milton nodded: "A smaller scope is fine, let's give it a try and see what happens."

To be honest, Milton didn't have high expectations for these "teammates" who were hired with money.

If you're at a disadvantage, just run away. At least don't turn against your employer, at least don't be easily bribed to betray them.

To put it bluntly, as long as we can win battles with an advantage, that's fine.

“Okay… let’s give it a try.” Brandon agreed. “Let’s go straight to the black gun shop. He might have some connections to hire people, and we can buy some equipment while we’re at it.”

The owner of the black gun shop is someone the "boss" knows and trusts, and Milton's situation is no longer in imminent danger, so it's indeed possible to make contact.

Milton counted the cash in his hand, stood up, and said, "Let's go, take that gold bar with us. I'm sure the gun shop won't refuse hard currency like gold." Including the gold, and after deducting the expenses of maintaining the underground bunker and emergency reserves, Milton currently has more than $8 at his disposal.

Brandon quickly stood up and left the pharmacy through the main door with Milton.

Veronica is now in charge of protecting the pharmacy; Lutz has rented a house with a good view near the police station in advance to cover Brandon's way to the police station to attend the awards ceremony.

The two left the pharmacy, and Brandon immediately went in front of Milton to lead the way.

"Boss, this way, the path is a bit roundabout..."

Milton casually asked, "What other businesses operate on the black market?"

“Go deeper in, and you'll find gun shops, brothels… and beyond that, I’m not so sure. Yeah, if you don’t have their trust, you won’t even know some businesses exist, let alone do business with them,” Brandon explained, then suddenly became a little nervous. “Uh, boss, you’re not thinking of going there to collect taxes, are you?”

Milton sighed. "Do I look like an idiot to you?"

Putting aside the difficulty and time-consuming nature of collecting taxes in such a place, having already made enough enemies, offending the entire black market would be an extremely unwise choice.

Besides, the black market doesn't necessarily mean evil, especially in places where resources are scarce.

Once order, production, and imports return to normal, many black market industries will naturally disappear or become legal, serving as a low-cost and stable source of tax revenue. Those industries that remain illegal are the festering sores that need to be eradicated.

Going on a killing spree now, regardless of the consequences, will only uproot the tax base that could have been legalized and sustained.

It's one thing to be able to collect taxes once, but that money might not even cover the cost of waging war against the entire black market.

Brandon chuckled: "Boss, this way, it's right inside. The gun shop owner is called 'Ghost Wolf,' don't be polite to him."

The gun shop is located in a very secluded location, making it easy to defend and difficult to attack.

The security guard on guard at the door clearly recognized Brandon and let him in without asking for his identity.

"Brandon, same old rule, you two need to leave your weapons at the front desk."

Ok? !

Milton looked over with an unfriendly expression.

If he absolutely had to hand over the gun, he'd rather not do the deal at all and just exchange his red points for the weapon, even if it meant losing a lot of money.

Once he has time to spare, illegal gun shops will be shut down and shut down.

Brandon quickly tried to smooth things over, saying, "We're all old friends, let's just let it go this time."

The security guard stared back coldly, refusing to budge an inch. The gun shop's powerful firepower gave him the right to look down on the two men: "These are the rules, or rather, you don't have the power to make Mr. 'Ghost Wolf' make an exception."

Milton gave the security guard a deep look, then turned to leave.

Suddenly, a voice came from the gun shop: "Let the two friends in."

“I believe that the fact that Mr. ‘Hell Tax Collector’, who dared to fire cannons at police cars, is standing here means that he has no ill intentions towards us.”

The security guard was stunned for a moment upon hearing this, and then his expression changed drastically.

"You, you're that 'Hell Tax Collector'?! Uh, sorry, sorry... I didn't recognize you just now. You and Mr. Brandon can come right in, please come in!"

Milton took a deep breath.

Has that damn, awful nickname already reached the black market?

And he didn't fire any cannons to bomb police cars, so where did this rumor come from?
Milton resisted the urge to turn around and leave, gave the security guard a deep look, and then stepped into the gun shop.

(End of this chapter)