Taxes are only within machine gun range!

Chapter 212 reports that famine is breaking out in Milton's territory.

A plan to lure a cult onto a passenger ship...

Flora thought about it carefully and said, "It's really good... Throw a tempting target at a large target at a large target for those cult members who drink ayahuasca all day and aren't very smart. This target will conflict with the small targets of daily harassment. This way, they may pause or reduce the frequency of carrying out the small targets."

"However, the biggest problem is that our big goal has to be really tempting."

Milton understood what she meant and said, "Of course... this passenger ship target must be real, and tickets must be sold to the public, otherwise the flaws will be discovered in no time."

Flora put down her fork: "I understand what you mean. Rent a passenger ship, plan the rooms, make sure the real guests are in safe places, and keep our infiltrated troops in positions where they can react quickly, right?"

“Not only that, I can even release some tickets to sell to those cultists who are trying to infiltrate.” Milton chuckled. “During this time, I will deliberately let a few of their people in, and if they are willing to buy tickets, that would be even better.”

Flora nodded: "It's like we've planted some spies within their ranks."

“Sometimes, bad teammates are more terrifying than powerful enemies,” Milton laughed. “And what I have to do is make sure they have as many bad teammates as possible.”

"We must deal with the cult as soon as possible before shipping resumes."

Flora lowered her voice: "By the way, what do you plan to do with that sheriff who's so eager for advancement? What tasks are you going to assign him? Aren't you going to give him another chance to observe him?"

“What I asked him to do didn’t really require much evaluation,” Milton said slowly. “It’s more of a test than a task.”

Flora became interested, rubbed her hands together, and asked in a low voice, "How do you plan to test me?"

Milton explained, "Wasn't he always 'frustrated' and submitting reports to many places, hoping for a chance to advance?"

"Coincidentally, he also submitted several 'applications for progress' to Guatemala City."

“The Alsu government might not have accepted him before, but now that I have defeated Lopez and occupied this place, his application may not be rejected.”

Flora understood: "You're planning to have him become a spy... By the way, do you still need to test people? I think you're pretty good at judging people, but it seems like everyone you think is reliable has never made a mistake."

“That’s different.” Milton shook his head and explained, “You can’t judge a person like Riley by appearances alone. He might be on your side today, but tomorrow he might choose to stand against you for various other reasons.”

The panel can only monitor the real-time status of one teammate, and the status will not change until the decision to betray is officially made.

Most of Riley's teammates in the early days of the revolution could be trusted, and it was believed that most of them would not change their ways, but that was not necessarily the case.

Most importantly, Milton does need to try to establish an intelligence network within the enemy's sphere of influence, and Riley is well-suited for this task.

This can test him; if he fails, it eliminates a mistake; if he succeeds, it establishes the prototype of a spy network.

“Yes,” Flora agreed. “Our spies in Quetzaltenango have indeed brought us a lot of useful intelligence… Guatemala City should get one too.”

“Very well, that’s settled then.” Milton waved his hand. “Release the ticket information first, then charter the boat as soon as possible!”

"One more thing, remember to make sure our food reserves look like they're getting lower and lower. We must keep Arsu hanging on and not let him give up."

Flora put down her knife and fork, patted her full stomach, and waved her hand, saying, "Okay, okay~"

……

At this moment, the Pan-American Highway.

beep...

A pickup truck had just left a government checkpoint and was heading towards the area controlled by the rebels, or rather, the Milton military government.

“Priest… I’ve heard that many people have lost all contact with the devil as soon as they arrived in Khorne’s territory. The power of the devil there is simply too great.”

The priest's face turned cold: "Do you know why they were exposed? It's because of people like you who speak without thinking. How many times have I told you, call them by their names in public, not 'Priest'!"

Just kidding, the Pan Madre Group has put a price tag on the bounty for the heads of the original Voodoo cult members. Each head can be exchanged for a full 1000 "border zone currency", which is equivalent to 125 US dollars.

This price is enough to tempt even many followers of the original Voodoo religion.

In the eyes of many believers, the sacredness of the original Voodoo religion has vanished, at least not in the territory of "evil terror." They still maintain a certain respect for priests and churches, no longer out of fear, but simply out of habit from years of living.

Sufficient incentives are enough to make these believers betray their beliefs.

What angered the priest even more was that the traitors were often more ruthless than the enemies. Milton, at most, would occasionally send planes to carry out precision strikes on churches and church assets, dropping incendiary bombs.

Those who betrayed the priest directly revealed everything about him, including his family and friends...

"Traitors are more hateful than enemies."

The believer was startled and quickly nodded: "Yes, Mr. Cicero."

Upon hearing his name, the priest named Cicero's expression softened slightly: "In order to successfully infiltrate, we have washed away all the marks left by the gods... This is a great humiliation for us, but in order to successfully infiltrate, the gods will forgive our actions."

“I’ve heard from the High Priests that the hatred between Khorne and us actually started much earlier… He also wiped out a mercenary group of believers.”

"The reason is that they were carrying several necklaces."

“But this time, we didn’t bring anything with us and looked exactly like ordinary people. No matter how skilled Milton’s secret police are, even if they have eyes like eagles, they will never be able to find us again.”

The believer asked in a low voice, "Mr. Cicero, what are we supposed to do when we get there? Prepare bombs?"

“What kind of bombs are we preparing?” Cicero shook his head. “As far as we know, ‘Khorne’… no, Milton, remember, we can no longer use the name ‘Khorne’ in enemy territory. Milton has strict control over firearms, and even knives, within the controlled area.”

"Except for a few designated, qualified merchants, all other gun shops have been closed."

"Furthermore, firearms that have not been registered before will also be subject to mandatory buyback."

"In my opinion, it may not be long before he implements a complete ban on guns in his territory."

Apart from "Ghost Wolf" in Malakan and two other relatively large arms dealers with many orders and jobs, which were only restricted and entered a transition period, all other gun shops were closed.

Moreover, obtaining a gun license is much more difficult than before, with the process alone taking more than two months.

Anyone could see that Milton was pushing hard for gun control, but no one could stop him; they could only obediently cooperate.

The remaining three arms dealers will likely be transferred to government ownership soon and completely merged with Milton's military operations.

"Unlicensed possession of firearms is a serious crime. Milton is very strict about it. We have no connections whatsoever. Let alone getting some explosives that could be used to carry out terrorist attacks, it would be difficult for us to even get a few hunting rifles."

At this time, the believers at the very bottom of the church were unaware that the church's higher-ups had already set their sights on the sea. They asked worriedly, "Then what's the point of us infiltrating in? With only knives, I'm afraid we won't be able to inflict much damage on Milton."

And they can't escape.

Cicero glanced at him, then at the seemingly loosely guarded checkpoint in the enemy-occupied territory not far ahead, and said, "So our role isn't to attack directly, but to cooperate... We're almost at the border now, and you should know a lot of things by now."

"The church leadership's goal is not in Quetzaltenango, nor in any city controlled by Milton."

"But at sea."

"Why is it that Milton, with only such a small territory, has the strength to challenge the entire nation? It's not because he has airplanes and tanks, but because he controls all the land routes to Mexico, as well as the sea, and he also basically controls half of the border with Mexico."

“Milton’s operations along the Mexican border are very well established and difficult for us to penetrate, but at sea, his power remains very weak.”

"Therefore, the higher-ups believed that a large-scale naval operation could deal a huge blow to Milton's industries, making all trading partners realize that doing business with Milton meant being prepared to suffer huge economic losses."

The believers finally understood: "So, our goal is to find a fully loaded cargo ship, or even a passenger ship, and search for valuable information inside to aid in the attack?"

“That’s right, that’s our target,” Cissell said. “Alright, we’re about to pass through the checkpoint. Remember, don’t give anything away.”

"Yes!"

Soon, the pickup trucks lined up, passed through one obstacle after another, and arrived inside the checkpoint.

Don't be fooled by the seemingly rudimentary checkpoints on the highway, where any armored vehicle could easily break through. Cissel is certain that there are countless hidden sentries and fortifications lurking around them.

If they dare to make even the slightest mistake, what awaits them is "returning to the embrace of the gods".

Soon, a robust-looking inspector who appeared to be well-fed gestured for them to pull into a parking space and then walked over and knocked on the car window.

Everyone knows that the esteemed Mr. Milton rose from a lowly border inspector to become a powerful warlord who controlled a region.

Every prosecutor takes pride in their profession.

"Stop the car. What are you doing?" The inspector glanced at the car rather rudely. "There aren't many people who dare to walk on this road these days." Cecil smiled. "Sir... although not many, there are definitely not few either. Isn't there a ceasefire now? We're merchants. We heard that food prices have risen quite a bit here, so we brought some food over to see if we can make a little money."

"Oh?!" Upon hearing the word "grain," the inspector's face lit up with barely suppressed curiosity. "You brought grain with you, very good. Turn off the engine and produce your driver's licenses."

"My men will thoroughly search your vehicle to make sure you're not carrying any contraband, understand?"

After saying that, the inspector couldn't wait to walk to the cargo box, open the sack, and reach inside to weigh a few large potatoes.

The other inspectors made Cecilia get out of the car and search her.

Cecilia didn't say anything on her face, but she was still a little nervous inside—after the tattoo was removed, the skin wouldn't recover quickly and would leave light-colored skin marks.

If a full strip search were conducted, and the inspectors were more vigilant, they might not be able to get away with it.

As fate would have it, the inspector indeed reached out and lifted Cecil's arm, revealing a faint mark on his arm.

At first, the inspector simply ignored it, but during the second search, he suddenly started nitpicking, saying, "Oh... by the way, do you have a skin disease? Do you have a doctor's diagnosis? Do you have proof of recovery? You know, there was almost a plague outbreak in the city of Xaltenango before, and Lord 'Hell Tax Collector' is very sensitive to these kinds of things."

Cecilia was terrified, but the prosecutor actually helped him explain it away with the excuse of "skin disease".

"Yes……"

The moment that answer came out, the inspector flew into a rage: "You have a skin disease and you dare to come here?! Have you received a message from the tyrannical government, intending to spread the plague on our land?"

"Let me tell you, this is a very serious crime, a capital offense!"

“If we take you to court, you will be beheaded and your head will be hung on the chariot of the ‘Hell Tax Collector,’ so that everyone can see your shameful state, understand?!”

The prosecutor glared at them and spoke very seriously, but the others in the room seemed not to hear him, and no one rushed forward to take coercive measures against them.

Cecilia immediately understood and quickly said, "I'm sorry! I'm sorry, I didn't mean to! I didn't know... Is there any way to fix this? If not, we can go back right away."

“Going back? It’s not that simple,” the inspector said menacingly. “Luckily, we have doctors at our checkpoint. They’re very professional and can issue you a medical certificate. But… our medical resources are also strained. If you want the certificate, you’ll need to pay a diagnosis fee. That’s reasonable, isn’t it?”

Cisser cursed the corrupt officials in his heart, but smiled and said, "That's reasonable, that's reasonable. How much would you like for the diagnosis?"

The inspector didn't speak immediately, but instead exchanged a few words quietly with the people who had finished searching the car from outside before saying, "$20 and 10 pounds of potatoes, isn't that a bit much?"

Cecilia was extremely distressed about her budget, but still smiled and said, "It's not excessive, it's not excessive..."

“Very good.” The inspector glanced at his skin, waved his hand, and wrote out a diagnosis form himself. “Take this and get in the car.”

However, just as Cecil got into the driver's seat and was about to start the engine, he was shocked to find that his car keys were missing.

Turning my head, I noticed that the inspector who had initially stopped the car was spinning something on his fingertips.

Cecilia felt a chill run down her spine and cautiously asked, "Sir, we've passed the identity check. Shouldn't you let us through?"

The inspector chuckled, his face contorted with the ruthlessness of a cruel official: "Yes, your identity has been verified... but has your grain been verified? I've searched for ages and haven't found the quarantine report for this batch of potatoes. How can I release it? This is a difficult situation."

Cecil finally experienced firsthand the "exorbitant taxes" they imposed on their followers.

"Sorry, we didn't know..."

The inspector said coldly, "You say you don't know? You dare to come without a quarantine report?! Did you receive a message from the tyrannical government, intending to spread plague to our crops?"

"Let me tell you, this is a very serious crime, a capital offense!"

“If we take you to court, you will be beheaded and your head will be hung on the chariot of the ‘Hell Tax Collector,’ so that everyone can see your shameful state, understand?!”

"Perfect timing! We have agricultural experts at our checkpoint. They are all very professional and can issue you a quarantine report. However... our expert resources are very limited. If you want the report, you will need to pay an inspection fee. That's reasonable, isn't it?"

Fuck your mother!

You didn't even change your lines, did you?!

Cissell resisted the urge to swear: "Reasonable, very reasonable... How much do you think would be appropriate?"

"Twenty dollars, plus ten pounds of potatoes," the inspector said. "What, you don't want to pay that?"

"Yes, yes!" Cissel suppressed her temper and pulled out another $20. "Do you need us to help you carry the potatoes?"

"No need, I can do it myself." The inspector waved his hand, unloaded at least 20 pounds of potatoes from the car, and then tossed over the car keys and a quarantine report with satisfaction. "Alright, you can go now. Have fun!"

Cecil didn't want to stay in this godforsaken place for another second. He grabbed the keys, started the engine, stepped on the gas, and sped away from the checkpoint.

The checkpoint officials watched the pickup truck drive away, and the ruthless, official-like expressions on their faces and in their eyes vanished instantly.

"Ha... Do you know how long it took me to come up with the excuse of a skin disease for them? Are they really that unprofessional?"

"If it weren't for Mr. 'Hell Tax Collector' telling us in advance to let some people through, they would have been beheaded and hung on Mr. 'Hell Tax Collector's' chariot by now!"

"They said they came to sell grain, but they didn't even bring a quarantine report. They even forced me to make excuses for them. They're a bunch of idiots who've ruined their brains by drinking ayahuasca."

"Keep all those potatoes, do a good job of quarantine... Report the situation here to our superiors, and have them monitor the potatoes in real time. They will only be released after we confirm that it is safe here."

After Milton purged corrupt officials, adjusted the salaries of officials and civil servants to appropriate levels, and established reasonable KPI performance rewards, no one dared to accept bribes anymore.

It's not that there aren't corrupt officials who are bold enough to continue accepting bribes, but they almost always accept bribes in the morning and are arrested by the inspection team around lunchtime.

The outcomes for them were reportedly not very good.

What I just did was to deliberately let them in, to create the illusion in front of the enemy that there wasn't enough food, and that even the inspectors were accepting bribes in the form of food.

Of course, there was definitely an element of teasing them.

"Let them be, let's get back to work..."

"..."

……

Inside the pickup truck, the original Voodoo cult follower was furious.

"Ha! Milton talks so well on TV, but in the end, he still says one thing and does another. How much dirty money did he take from us during this round of inspections?!"

"Damn it, it's even worse than..." The believer swallowed the word "church" abruptly, "It's even darker than when Lopez was in charge!"

Cecil, however, looked quite relaxed. It seemed that after driving this stretch of road, he had figured something out and explained profoundly, "Why bother with these things? This food was originally meant to be our cover, and that money was originally part of our budget."

"Too……"

"Moreover, from this simple inspection, you can clearly see that the Pan Madre Group is already in a huge crisis." Cissel smiled and slowly analyzed, "First of all, Milton has clearly banned the circulation of all currencies except the border region currency, but they are still accepting US dollars. Why is that?"

“These are frontline officials at the checkpoint; they know a lot of inside information… In other words, they believe that the ‘border currency’ will soon become worthless, and they must hoard more US dollars.”

"Secondly, when they were collecting US dollars, they all took potatoes without exception, and in the end, the official even secretly took a lot more than he should have."

"What does this mean? They not only believe that the 'border zone currency' will soon become worthless, but they also believe that even if they have US dollars, it will be difficult to buy food in the future."

"The Milton government's food reserves are about to run out; he's just putting on a brave face! That damned heretic, that damned madman, will get his comeuppance soon!"

The believers were immediately invigorated: "So that's how it is! We must report this good news back!"

“Of course we’ll report,” Cissell nodded. “But we need to find a secluded place so we can notify you once the funds arrive—we can’t buy mobile phones without the money.”

"Tell them to bring more money; this place is a total rip-off."

"In the next few days, we'd better go to Port Champelli and see if we can find a suitable target."

As their pickup truck drove into the clean and tidy streets of the city, intending to find a hotel to rest, the believer suddenly widened his eyes.

“Mr. Cecil, look over there! That’s a travel agency.”

Cecilia, who was driving, glanced over.

Homeland Travel Agency: Exciting luxury cruise travel, bringing you the most luxurious experience and the most worry-free vacation! Purchase your cruise ticket today and enjoy a 9% discount!

(End of this chapter)