Taxes are only within machine gun range!

Chapter 7 A Near Miss Assassination
It's still blocked...

Milton sighed inwardly, twisted his arm, picked up the Type 56 rifle, and pushed the selector switch from safety to full automatic.

Contrary to what is depicted in many movies and games, the suppressive power of an automatic rifle is incomparable to that of a single-action automatic pistol.

Unless several people are behind cover and take advantage of the crossfire, it is unlikely that a counterattack will be successful.

The kind of scenario where the protagonist, armed with only a small pistol, engages in a passionate shootout with enemies wielding rifles and machine guns is pure suicide.

Milton had a vehicle as cover, which allowed him to easily suppress two officers who seemed unsuspecting during the firefight.

Regardless, let's assume for now that the other party came with hostility!

The two officers were taken aback when Milton took out his automatic rifle.

He glanced at the gruesome corpse on the ground and paused for a moment.

The fierce expressions on their faces softened instantly, even softening into friendly smiles: "Hey, brother, don't be nervous!"

"You're from the checkpoint, right? We just came to take a look. This is my police ID!"

"Great marksmanship! That Yankee died like a dog, haha!"

"That's right, you stinking northerner, coming here to beg for food."

"..."

As they spoke, they put away their pistols, expressing their friendliness.

The change of expression was so fast that Milton's hand movements were a beat slowed down.

Does having "reasoning" in your hands really make others more reasonable?

“I’m on a mission. State your purpose.” Milton was not swayed by their actions. He kept his gun at bay and said indifferently, “Immediately.”

At the same time, he carefully observed the other person's expression, trying to figure out who was behind them.

Even if I figure it out, it won't make a difference, since both sides want my life anyway... haha.

Milton still managed to find joy in hardship and maintain a stable mindset.

“You’re too nervous. We’re just here to check things out.” The two officers took another step back, exchanged a glance, and chuckled awkwardly. “Looks like everything’s alright. We’ll be going now, we’ll be going now.”

It wasn't that they didn't want to buy time, but that they were afraid that if they wasted even a second, Milton would actually pull the trigger.

In places like this, the death of one or two police officers is no big deal; their police uniforms offer them no sense of security whatsoever.

Drug lords even dare to openly post police arrest warrants on the streets!
Can you believe that a criminal is wanted by a police officer?

Why get into a conflict with someone carrying an assault rifle when you're just getting paid and clocking in for work?
Who knows if the other person is crazy?
A few hundred qchar a month? What's the point of risking your life?

A person who races on the street and fires at smugglers is clearly not someone to mess with; it's not worth getting into a direct confrontation with him.

Those colleagues who didn't believe in the superstition are now buried in the cemetery of the central church in town.

As they raised their hands and stepped back, they quickly glanced around.

Upon seeing the girl with red, swollen eyes from crying by the roadside, the rotten fruit scattered on the ground, and the banknotes in Milton's hand, the two officers smiled.

The way he looked at Milton became more "lewd" and "friendly," and he even lowered his raised hands slightly.

"Relax, relax!" the officers laughed as they backed away. "When we first started out, we were even more nervous than you! See, we made it through, didn't we?"

"Enjoy your time, hehe, we won't bother you anymore."

The other party's attitude took an unexpected turn, leaving Milton momentarily stunned.

Did these two men think Milton had taken advantage of the situation to rob the fruit shop and was planning to rape the owner's daughter?!

And after this conjecture arose, they actually became closer? Or were they even trying to win them over?

The Scumbag Aggregation Theorem, right?

These two aren't here to deal with me, nor do they seem inclined to... It looks like they're just here to take a look and gather some information?
They even thought they could be won over.

No mortal feud?

So who exactly is behind them?
Well, in other words, these two police officers have probably committed quite a few crimes similar to robbery, rape, and even murder...

That's a thief convicted of military crimes.

Milton's gaze darkened slightly, but he didn't clarify anything—at this stage, such a misunderstanding could actually provide some protection for the father and daughter.

He can't even protect himself, and his reckless words will implicate innocent people.

“Wait a minute.” Milton wasn’t comfortable letting the two officers leave so easily, and also wanted to test them. “I have something I need your help with.”

The two officers exchanged a glance but did not immediately agree: "We have official business to attend to. Please tell us first, and if it's on our way, we can help you."

This border town, which has no industry whatsoever, relies primarily on border trade for its income. No one wants to offend the border inspectors unless absolutely necessary.

But Milton was just an inspector, not the entire checkpoint. If the task was too difficult, they would find an excuse to refuse.

Milton carefully observed the expressions of the two officers, pointed to Horn's Buick, and said, word by word, "Help me drive this car back to the checkpoint. This is Officer Maynard's car. I suggest you don't make a single scratch."

This lie doesn't affect the final ownership of the car, but it does reveal some useful information from the police officer's reaction.

The two officers exchanged another glance, hesitated for a moment, and nodded: "Okay... Brandon, should you go or should I go?"

The officer named Brandon glanced at the contraband at Milton's feet and said, "You go ahead, I have to keep 'patrolling' around here... Hehe, let me tell you, over there on Old Street, Old Sean's daughter is really something!"

"Hehe...you're good, good, no problem."

"..."

Milton carefully observed the expressions of the two men and quickly made a simple deduction in his mind—if nothing unexpected happened, these two should be on Maynard's side.

There was hesitation and doubt... but not a trace of resistance or disdain.

Moreover, it seems that his position is not very high, belonging to the level of "informant".

Otherwise, they wouldn't have given Milton such a friendly look.

The two officers likely only received orders similar to surveillance, observation, and intelligence gathering.

But why?

Logically speaking, Maynard should be the one who has a blood feud with him and wants to get rid of him as quickly as possible, right?

Was he worried that running away alone was a trap, so he wanted to be cautious?

There's a lot of missing information, so we can't make wild guesses, or we'll mislead ourselves...

Milton shook his head slightly, no longer thinking about it, and tossed the car keys he had borrowed from his colleague Horn to the officer.

After watching the two officers split up and drive away completely, Milton carefully put away his weapon and carried the body onto the pickup truck.

The little girl named Liya seemed quite relaxed, so she should be fine.

Milton drove away, found a place to dump the body, and then went to the repair station in town to replace the broken car window.

Milton soon arrived at the "La Mecia Car Modification King" auto repair shop and parked steadily in the repair bay.

The auto repair shop owner saw that the car had a foreign license plate and originally planned to rip the driver off, but when he saw the clothes worn by the person in the car, he immediately gave up that suicidal idea.

These repair shops in border towns are filled with smuggled parts, illegally salvaged parts, and defective products that have been illegally dismantled...

Engaging in this kind of shady business and offending border control is really unwise.

"Sir? The car window is broken? Do you need it replaced? It'll look brand new, just like it came off the factory!"

Milton glanced at the room full of green Level 3 contraband, chuckled, and decided to let him off the hook for the time being: "Do you have any?"

"Yes, yes! You're so lucky. A car owner placed an order last week, but he was beaten to death by gangsters in Mexico yesterday. I heard they didn't even find his body intact..."

Milton didn't have time for small talk: "How much does it cost, and how long will it take to install?"

"No charge, no charge! I'll wash your car for you while I'm at it, it'll be done in half an hour!"

You want me to owe you a favor just for using a piece of glass?

There is everything in the dream.

Milton chuckled and, based on the information on the panel, tossed out a $30 bill: "Hurry up, get it done within 20 minutes."

The repair shop owner was a little disappointed, but he still accepted the money: "I guarantee you'll be satisfied. If any problems arise later, I'll fix them for you free of charge."

Milton nodded, walked out of the auto repair shop, and prepared to open the panel to see what items he could exchange for to improve his self-defense capabilities.

The enemy is about to strike. Optimistically, I don't have more than three days left. By the time I go out on my next mission, I'll probably be ambushed...

Just then, a series of very faint, popping sounds came from the direction of the border checkpoint on the outer road of the town.

Da da da... Da da da!

Da da da da da…

Immediately afterwards, at the very edge of his field of vision, Milton saw a fireball rising with thick black smoke, along with fragments of car parts being flung into the air.

His gaze froze.

A few seconds later, a violent explosion was heard!

boom!
(End of this chapter)