Chapter 15: Ensuring That Every Taxpayer Needs to Make Only One Trip

The moment the grenade was thrown inside, Milton immediately heard three chaotic footsteps rushing toward the study, fleeing in haste!

A grenade explosion takes only three to five seconds. The idea of picking up a grenade and throwing it back is something best left to movies; in reality, few dare to do this unless absolutely necessary.

That brief moment is enough for someone to sprint toward another cover but far too short to find a tiny grenade in a complex environment, pick it up, and toss it back.

If it explodes in your hand, that’s the best-case scenario—only you get hurt. But if it detonates inside the room, the destructive power is unimaginable; it might even achieve the rare feat of wiping out the entire team.

As the footsteps grew closer, Milton immediately guessed the assassins’ intention—

They planned to temporarily hide in the study, wait for the grenade to explode, and then rush out to reclaim the advantageous firing position in the room.

Grenades don’t distinguish friend from foe; while they repel the enemy, they also halt the attackers’ momentum.

Yet, what seemed like the assassins’ most logical and safest reaction was exactly what Milton wanted to see!

Milton threw the grenade to create a false sense of security, making the assassins believe that in the few seconds before the grenade detonated, they only needed to avoid the blast and didn’t have to worry about him storming the room.

And Milton was waiting for the exact moment they turned to flee!

This was also why he didn’t pull the grenade pin—because as soon as the grenade landed inside, he charged in!

The assassins, at that moment, turned to retreat toward the next cover!

In other words, in that fleeting instant, Milton was facing three backs, not three intersecting lines of fire!

A feint to the east while striking west!

You think I’m throwing a grenade, but actually, I’m here to shoot.

Stepping into the room, Milton indeed saw three figures with their backs to him, fleeing in panic!

Aim, fire!

Bang! Bang! Bang!

Time was tight, and the assassins were sprinting at full speed. Milton’s burst fire only managed to bring down one and wound another in the thigh.

In the final moments, the injured assassin barely crawled into new cover but left a long trail of blood behind.

The bleeding was severe!

Seeing this, Milton did not recklessly pursue into the study to finish off the enemies but instead moved slowly to a strong-positioned blind spot by the doorway, positioning his gun at the entrance.

With a seriously wounded member, it was the assassins who couldn’t afford to wait now… If they didn’t act first, they’d be reduced to a single person!

Without numerical advantage, Milton could easily crush an unarmored, lightly armed soldier one-on-one.

So Milton held his position. If the assassins didn’t attack, they’d lose more men; if they did, they’d be forced into a disadvantageous close-quarters battle.

Panicked and desperate, both assassins fled toward the weaker side, but they had no idea which side Milton was holding.

Having overwhelming information from start to finish brought unparalleled advantage.

The assassins inside realized this too. Witnessing so many losses and their inability to even threaten Milton, their morale inevitably collapsed.

They wanted to surrender.

“Do we have a grudge? Is there anything we can’t settle by talking?”

“I have plenty of money. Just let me go, and I’ll tell you where it is.”

“Friend, take me to the hospital, and I’ll give you a thousand... no, two thousand dollars. How about that? I’ll tell you there’s a pretty girl in this pharmacy, the daughter of the female inspector we killed—you can dress her in a police uniform and have your way with her. It’ll be quite a thrill!”

“Her worthless father was torn apart by us; you won’t have to worry about any trouble afterward! Let us go, and the money and this whole operation are yours. How about it, brother?”

“Man, I think there’s been some kind of misunderstanding. I swear I never crossed you. You’re strong. Maybe we can be friends—no, you could be my boss!”

“……”

After their theatrics, Milton said coolly, “Weren’t you here to hunt me down? How come you don’t recognize me?”

This was followed by a long silence.

“You’re... the inspector the boss told us to meet, Mr. Milton Mins?”

Milton still held his position by the door, not minding the conversation—they were wasting their own time. “Yes, I heard you couldn’t find me. So here I am. I believe every taxpayer should only have to make one trip—that’s my principle.”

The assassins fell silent again.

Being mocked as “taxpayers” didn’t matter; by now, they were cursing the station chief in their hearts.

Damn you, Varta! Didn’t you promise us this Milton was a bought-off pauper, only armed with a pistol and a shabby automatic rifle?!

Why the heavy body armor? Why the grenades?

This armor alone could buy five, no, ten lives in Malacan Town!

And why is he so strong? Knowing six of us came to kill him, he not only didn’t run but actually dared to take the initiative and attack!

“Inspector, I think we might have some misunderstandings, but there’s no irreconcilable conflict,” one assassin said.

Milton almost laughed. “Even if there wasn’t before, do you believe there won’t be after today?”

Those two questions plunged the room into silence once more.

No… it wasn’t silence—Milton could clearly hear weak, labored breathing from the other side.

The wounded man was about to give out; excessive blood loss and the failed negotiation had started to unravel his composure.

“Ahhh! I’m going to fight you!!!”

Finally, in utter despair, the wounded assassin broke free from his comrades, grabbed a submachine gun, firing as he charged out of the room.

Rat-a-tat-tat-tat...

But he was unlucky—he guessed the wrong direction.

If he had been in better shape, with less blood loss, he might have discerned Milton’s approximate position from their earlier conversation.

His desperate spray of bullets hit only the wall, exposing his back to Milton.

The trigger was pulled, a burst of shots fired, and the assassin collapsed with a thud.

Thump... clatter-clatter.

After the body hit the ground and casings scattered, silence returned.

There were still two survivors in the room, separated by only a single wall.

Terrifying, grim, oppressive, hopeless.

Six assassins had come after one man and were taken down one by one, without effective resistance.

The last assassin was completely engulfed by fear.

Going out to fight meant certain death!

No, even if he fled, the inspector would come after him!

Rather than face such a terrifying inspector and constantly live in fear of being hunted down, it was better to be caught by the police and locked in prison.

Bribe the wardens with some money, and life would go on just fine.

He didn’t want to die!

“I surrender! I unconditionally surrender! Don’t shoot!”