Taxes are only within machine gun range!

Chapter 72 Believe me, being the sixth brother is really awesome.
The day passed quickly.

While Varta and Pedro were still discussing how to utilize the peace talks, Milton had already begun preparations for war.

The main base is basically complete, and even if it is attacked, the probability of it being overwhelmed in one fell swoop is very, very low.

The only thing to do now is to attack!

At this moment, several key members of the team had gathered in the canteen on the first floor of the black market pharmacy for a final pre-battle review.

Yesterday I asked Veronica to go to the gun shop to buy a recoilless rifle, but unfortunately, it hasn't arrived yet.

"However, we did manage to get two Soviet RPO-A 'Shmel' man-portable thermobaric munitions, which is acceptable and usable."

The best thing about this type of man-portable thermobaric weapon is that it requires no reloading, is lightweight and convenient, and is extremely effective against enemies inside buildings.

Moreover, compared to the Gustav M2, which often costs six figures in US dollars, it is incredibly cheap.

“Not bad.” Milton was satisfied with the two individual thermobaric bombs. “They’re good stuff. We should bring them all. As long as we’re not too unlucky, we can eliminate at least 7% of the enemy in the first wave of attacks.”

“Although this operation is a surprise attack, we can’t be careless. Flora, Luz, and Matteo, all of you put on heavy body armor and attack with me.”

Veronica is relatively weak in combat; she can stay in the old streets and do defensive work.

Matteo was the most excited: "Boss, no problem, I'll apply to be the dribbler!"

Brandon, sitting in a wheelchair with an IV drip attached, said quietly, "I want to go too... I want to kill that son of a bitch Pedro with my own hands."

Brandon is so frightened by the memory of that shooting that he can't sleep at night.

He really, almost, almost died!

If Pedro isn't completely dead, Brandon won't be able to sleep every night!
“You can’t go any further, focus on recovering first.” Milton waved his hand dismissively. “Besides, Pedro won’t be coming to the negotiations this time; his deputy, Otto, will be here.”

"I have a grudge against Otto too!"

Milton waved his hand again: "There are too many people in Malacan who have grudges against them. One more or one less won't make a difference... Take good care of your injuries and try to be able to participate when we really deal with Pedro next time."

Brandon was a little disappointed: "Okay..."

Lutz then added, "By the way, reporter Olya is here. Boss, would you like to see her?"

In the attack plan, this reporter was responsible for collecting "evidence" and later framing Fan Kangbang for all the wrongdoings, making him a crucial figure.

“Of course, let her in.” Milton nodded. “If she can handle this matter well, I plan to officially bring her on board.”

No one had any objections to this.

They have already had a first glimpse of the power of "journalism".

The hatred towards the Van Cham gang in Malacan is now almost completely stirred up, and only Milton and his ilk know just how wronged the Van Cham gang really is in this matter.

Soon, led by the sentry, the very beautiful blonde woman also arrived at the conference room.

Olya looked around, found a seat, and nodded slightly: "'Hell Tax Collector' Mr., I heard you were looking for me."

Time was of the essence, and Milton, not wanting to waste words, cut to the chase: "Olia, are you planning to be a war correspondent constantly teetering on the edge of life and death, risking your life only to capture superficial scenes of the fighting; or would you rather do some truly meaningful, impactful reporting?" Olia blinked, then smiled: "Of course the latter... but I'm not opposed to the former. Many scenes, if I don't report them, no one else in the world will."

“A realistic idealist, very good.” Milton nodded. “It seems we have the foundation for a long-term partnership.”

Aurelia looked into Milton's eyes, pondered for a moment, and then tentatively asked, "Long-term cooperation?"

“I can provide you with security, a fixed salary, and some exclusive news sources…” Milton looked at her and said slowly, “And you, you’ll be responsible for writing articles that appropriately embellish these news items, how about that?”

This time, Olya pondered for a long time.

After more than thirty seconds, she looked up, nodded in agreement, and asked, "When can I start working?"

"Two days from now, at that steakhouse south of the Central Cathedral, will be your onboarding assessment." Milton chuckled as he looked at the panel showing that the woman had become a teammate. "You can now freely enter and exit the old streets."

Olya stood up and said sincerely, "Okay, thank you for giving me this opportunity."

Milton leaned back in his chair. "I didn't think you'd agree so quickly."

“If it were the Van Cameron gang inviting me, I would refuse without hesitation,” Olya said sincerely. “But… I think you are different from them. Not different from the Van Cameron gang, but different from Varta, Pedro, and everyone else.”

Upon hearing this, the others couldn't help but nod in agreement.

They could genuinely sense that Milton was neither a mob boss like Raul, nor a brutal warlord like Varta, nor a mad drug dealer from Mexico.

They couldn't quite put their finger on the specific differences, but they could definitely sense a distinct difference.

“Alright, enough with the flattery, I don’t fall for it.” Milton said, sounding a bit cheesy. “There are still two days until the negotiations. Matteo, Flora, and I will be doing some reconnaissance, but the others can’t be idle either.”

"To be honest, even Lutz, and even you, Brandon, your combat skills are only average and you need training to improve."

Lutz immediately said, "Boss, I'm going to practice shooting later! I can run 5 kilometers too."

Milton waved his hand dismissively: "Physical fitness, marksmanship, tactical thinking, and the like, these can't be developed in a day or two. They have no positive effect other than wasting time and energy."

Projects like this should wait until the current crisis is resolved, and Milton truly has room to survive and free time.

"No target practice or running? Then what will we train for?"

Others also looked over eagerly—they wanted to improve their own combat capabilities and didn't want to be cannon fodder.

“Training in ‘firepower resource management’ and the use of projectiles… I’ve already had Flora prepare a training plan, and ‘Anvil’ will be in charge of training you later,” Milton said. “A major problem in gang warfare is that it’s too easy to waste firepower.”

"Holding a submachine gun, standing in an inappropriate position, and randomly firing at unknown targets is no different from holding a gun and pulling the trigger into the sky."

"Not only will it expose your own information and waste your own firepower, but it will also block your teammates' firing lines and waste their firepower."

"As long as you can overcome this problem... even if it's by memorizing the board, you'll find that killing Fan Kang's gang is as easy and simple as killing chickens."

"With our equipment advantage, you will feel just how satisfying it is to suppress the enemy with firepower and kill them in a frustrating way before they can even raise their heads."

Milton recalled his previous feat of ambushing and killing two enemies with booby traps, and a strange sense of pleasure flashed in his eyes: "Believe me, this is much more satisfying than defeating the opponent with so-called marksmanship."

(End of this chapter)