Taxes are only within machine gun range!

Chapter 83 Panel Upgrade
It turned out to be a police officer?

Why would police officers attend this "meeting"?
Milton continued flipping through the nearly worn-out booklet on the table and said, "Oh... it's a police officer. Interesting."

Brandon, completely forgetting that he was also a police officer, immediately asked warily, "What is your purpose here as a police officer? Don't try to lie."

The officer paused for a moment, then asked, "Didn't you spread the word that you wanted us to come? I didn't dare not come... You want to collect customs duties, right? I brought my import invoices with me."

“We don’t actually have much money. Pedro’s matter has nothing to do with us. If it did, we wouldn’t have been sent here.”

"The police don't really care about this area because it's too poor and the black market is too difficult to manage... If it weren't for the fact that I could collect some protection money from nearby businesses, I probably would have been removed from the police force."

“Commander Brandon, you know I’m not lying.”

Here, the police department is in it for profit, not for maintaining order.

Or rather, the country's police force is an institution that profits by selling guarantees of "maintaining order."

Brandon agreed wholeheartedly, turning his head to nod at Milton, confirming that the officer was not lying.

Milton pondered for a moment, then said slowly and deliberately, "Leave the money behind and go back to await orders."

He truly hadn't expected that even the local police officer would fall under his sphere of influence.

My control over the old streets is stronger than I imagined.

Milton has essentially taken over the official law enforcement authority in this area!
After the two officers left with the money and looked terrified, Milton turned to Brandon beside him and said, "Brandon, this is an opportunity for you."

"An opportunity?" Brandon thought about it carefully. "Boss, you want me to take over law enforcement authority in this area?"

“That’s right, Pedro’s forces have effectively withdrawn from this area, but I don’t have the authority to recruit officers directly right now, so I need you to take the lead.” Milton nodded. “Perfect timing, since you can’t go back to the police station now, why not use your sheriff status here?”

“Sounds good…this place has truly become our base.”

"Alright, let's hurry up and meet the rest of them." Milton waved his hand. "Honestly, this way of talking is too torturous, it's giving me a headache."

Moreover, while Brandon was able to get the gist of what Milton wanted to ask, he also tended to overthink things.

"Actually, those people waiting outside are even more worried..."

But the conversation that followed went much more smoothly than I had imagined.

The gunshot that had just been fired inside the room shocked everyone outside—they knew Milton was terrifying, but subconsciously assumed that this terror was directed at the mob.

Checkpoints and police stations were also classified as gangs.

They now clearly realize that they must not harbor any illusions.

Martin, a local bully, beat up the gambler who had won a lot of money and then went to collect the debt with his thugs. He was a local tyrant. Not long after he went in, he became a corpse.

But Luz, who was outside the room, and the others inside seemed oblivious to everything—except for one person silently mopping the floor, everyone else remained silent and went about their own business.

It was as if only an insect had died.

You should know that Matteo, who looked down on them from a high place, was not long ago just a piece of trash who could be bullied at will and couldn't even protect his wife and children.

Even the police tremble when they see him now!
As for turning around and running away, no one even considered it—their entire fortune was here, and leaving would mean they had worked for nothing in their lives.

And where can one escape to?

Having fled Milton's territory, should they go to Pedro's or Raul's territory?
Or perhaps go to a place even further away and become an outsider who is relentlessly exploited by another gang?
Gangs have long been a part of their lives; all they can do is pray that the "hellish tax collectors" won't take too much and will leave them a way to survive.

Those who still harbored even a sliver of resistance, or who wanted to conceal some of their assets, lost their courage upon smelling the strong stench of blood in the room and seeing the blood-stained cross hanging upside down on the wall.

Soon, information about various industries in the old street was delivered to Milton's desk.

Even as the former biggest drug dealer in the black market and one of the most important figures in this information, Brandon was still shocked by the enormous amount of information hidden beneath the surface.

"It truly lives up to its reputation as a black market; it has everything."

"Gambling, debt, organ trafficking, human trafficking; the sex industry, sexually transmitted diseases, medical treatment... this has almost formed a complete industrial chain, no wonder the police don't want to get involved."

"Do all sorts of restaurants, bars, hotels, hair salons, and even tailor shops have 'side businesses'?"

"Damn it, what an absolute mess I've inherited? No wonder the police don't want to deal with it anymore."

Are you playing Red Dead Redemption here?
Milton wanted to find out exactly where the rotten part was, but when he looked, he realized that the only thing that hadn't rotted away was his own brain.
Brandon gave a wry smile and said, "Yeah... but there's nothing we can do about it. This border town doesn't produce much, and the border trade profits are mostly eaten up by the checkpoints, yet it can support so many people. It can only have a 'side business'."

"Do you know how much profit this black market generates every year? I estimate at least hundreds of millions of dollars! It's just that that money doesn't go into our pockets. One dollar's worth of blood sold here is worth 20 dollars in Tijuana, and at least 100 dollars in Houston!"

"How many times can a woman sell herself in a year? You might think it's a few hundred times, or at most a thousand times even if she's exhausted... But in fact, the number is 5000!"

"Sometimes, a piece of bread is enough to make them spread their legs."

“Boss, those people you saw hanging from traffic lights before were actually only a minority; they were just the ‘miserable’ ones on the surface of the water.”

"The ones that truly prey on people are actually the ones that do so silently."

“You have absolute strength and violence, and no one can beat you, but our real enemy is not just guns and cannons.”

"Because these evils have been lost, the people here have also lost their source of income to survive."

“Maintaining our current operations and surviving won’t be easy, boss. You need to be mentally prepared. The ‘boss’ and I are pretty clean, really clean.”

“‘Hell Tax Collector’... Welcome to a cesspool filthier than hell.”

After Brandon finished speaking about how he was once a major black market dealer and corrupt cop, Milton fell into a long silence.

The others, including Olya, all looked completely unfazed. "Why didn't you tell me these things before?"

"I thought you just wanted to control the checkpoint, so there was no need to say anything... Besides, I thought you already knew all this. So, boss, what are you planning to do?"

Milton tapped the table for a long time, then frowned and said, "The biggest problem, to put it bluntly, is poverty. When the situation becomes one where not committing a crime means immediate starvation, the problem is no longer just about crime itself."

As a well-educated man who had lived in a highly secure environment, Milton did not want to see or allow his territory to deteriorate to this extent.

From a practical standpoint, he realized that there seemed to be nothing he could do.

Milton could certainly use overwhelming firepower to eliminate everything he disliked, but that would be pointless, because before long, countless people would starve to death because they lost their source of income.

They also lost their source of tax revenue.

The end result is either everyone on their own territory dies or everyone runs away.

Brandon gave a wry smile: "Yeah... the best solution is actually to pretend we didn't see anything and just collect the taxes every month. What's that saying again? The hero who slays the dragon eventually becomes the dragon himself?"

"You're mistaken; it won't all happen in the end."

Milton waved his hand: "There are indeed many difficulties, and they are indeed troublesome to deal with. It will take time to take it one step at a time."

"The prerequisite for eradicating evil is to ensure that those who are forced to rely on evil for a living can find a way to make a living after leaving their original environment."

“I believe that if washing dishes could earn you bread and save money, no one would choose to sell their body more than ten times a day, get sick, give away the money they have worked so hard to save to the hospital, and die in their thirties.”

"Moreover, just as you said, these people are just the most exploited at the very bottom of these black industries. The lion's share of the profits is eaten up by others. What economic benefit would it bring us to crack down on them?"

"To be honest, as a border point between one country and another major power, the infrastructure is quite complete, and it is not difficult to support the people of a small town through border trade."

Brandon gave another wry laugh: "Yeah, but... as you can see, it's too chaotic here."

Milton waved his hand: "So to put it bluntly, it's still about money, guns, and people."

"As long as we have enough firepower, why should we be afraid of not being able to snatch the meat from other people's mouths?"

"Moreover, we are not an industrialized country and have a great demand for external industrial products. As long as we can maintain order and service, why should we worry about not having business opportunities? Brandon, this is also one of the reasons why I let you take over the law enforcement authority in this area. Remember, you must actively deal with any police report filed by taxpayers, no matter how small the matter is."

"At this stage, our tasks are as follows: internally, we can start by addressing some entirely negative industries, such as gambling; externally, we need to purge the Fan Kang gang as soon as possible and take over the checkpoints as soon as possible."

Brandon was a little surprised: "So fast? Boss, are you planning to take over the checkpoint?"

"Or should we wait for them to be ready? Varta has spent so much money and raised so many people over the years. If they want to convert them into combat power at all costs, it will be a big problem for us. We can't give them that time."

"After this 'biological attack,' the other side can no longer harbor any illusions of peace. They will definitely do everything they can to prepare for war."

Moreover, Milton was not entirely unprepared.

Just now, after gathering this group of people and completely taking control of the old streets, the system panel finally received an upgrade.

[The host's power has been expanded, and further panel functions have been unlocked.]

[New types of weapons and equipment available for exchange: more machine guns, contact-detonating grenades, recoilless rifles, rocket launchers, more grenade launchers, and NIJ IV standard ballistic plates]

[New vehicle available for exchange: Light armored vehicle]

The following items no longer require red points to redeem: most pistols and submachine guns.

Current red points: 310 million

After the underground casino was confiscated, Milton's previously depleted red points became abundant once again.

Not only do they have over 300 million points, but they also have cash on hand equivalent to about $20.

If all of it is converted into firepower and unleashed in a short period of time, who can withstand it?

The biggest problem now is actually the lack of manpower.

No matter how many guns there are, or how powerful the weapons are, each person can only carry one.

Milton looked at Brandon: "After you take over the police force in this area, remember to screen some reliable combat personnel to supplement our team's combat personnel."

"clear."

After giving his instructions, Milton stood up and rearranged the room, which was so asymmetrical it was disgusting: "By the way, have Leah go and buy some ingredients... It would be best to find a cook as well, we can't keep making do with our meals like this."

"clear!!!"

"Maintain basic vigilance, while others can relax a bit. These days have indeed been very tense, everyone has worked hard, take a rest."

After giving his instructions, Milton walked outside.

Just then, Lutz rushed in from outside, seemingly having something to report.

"what happened?"

Lutz's expression was a bit strange: "Uh, boss, someone called you. Judging from their tone, they're here to interrogate you."

Milton thought to himself, "There's someone this powerful in Malacan Town?" and asked, "Who?"

"Police Chief, Pedro. Should I answer?"

P.S.: 10,000 words today. Future updates may not be able to be scheduled until noon and will likely be delayed until the afternoon or evening.
(End of this chapter)