Chapter 32: Charge In

Upon hearing a definitive confirmation and realizing the person before him was the "Hell Tax Collector," the shopkeeper seemed to completely deflate. He offered a bitter smile: "Whatever questions you have, ask them... Oh, and the answer to your previous question is no. I don’t have any original packaging here."

Was he frightened by that ominous nickname? Had he realized that he and his family were truly in danger of being killed, leading him to abandon all will to resist?

Milton remained calm and composed. "Where do you get your stock? I need the most precise location."

If he only provided a vague location like "the hospital," by the time Milton and his team searched room by room for the next clue, the place would likely be swarming with police. The entire operation had to be completed in under five minutes.

"Saint Lucia Clinic, basement level, morgue—turn right at the entrance and go to the very end. But it seems they don't have the original medicine bottles there either."

Malakan Town had two hospitals: the public Malakan Hospital and the private Saint Lucia Clinic. The former was extremely crowded, suffered from scarce medical resources, was highly unhygienic, and was small and cheap. The latter was the exact opposite.

After receiving this intelligence, the corresponding purchasable entry finally popped up on Milton’s interface. Milton did not hesitate and chose to spend 2,000 red points.

[A massive drug smuggling operation is hidden in the morgue of Saint Lucia Clinic.]

The intelligence was correct. Excellent.

Getting this information was enough. Perhaps the shopkeeper knew other things, but Milton knew how to prioritize—everything else was irrelevant compared to the task at hand. The next steps were simple: go to the hospital, capture someone in the know to force out the location where the drug bottles were being swapped, or find the relevant clues, then drive over and catch them red-handed.

Milton stood up and waved his hand, signaling for his two companions to silence the shopkeeper.

At that moment, the dying shopkeeper suddenly looked up and raised his voice: "Wait!"

Milton paused, checked his watch, and looked down at the shopkeeper. "What else?"

The shopkeeper let out a long sigh and said, "The safe is under the cash register. The code is 013099. The money is yours, but my family knows nothing. Please, let them go." He added their address.

He realized his fate, but hoped to use the money to protect his family from the "Hell Tax Collector."

Milton looked at him deeply, then signed a fine and a receipt, placed them on the shopkeeper, and agreed to this not-unreasonable request: "Fine."

The shopkeeper, driven by a spirit of "if I can't have this dirty money, no one can," and a final shred of conscience, added: "Also, the troglitazone is defective. One of my pregnant clients died after taking it. Don't buy it."

Milton raised his muzzle, his tone calm: "I know."

The shopkeeper shifted into a more comfortable position and nodded. "I have nothing else to say."

*Click.*

A bullet entered his brain, ending his life instantly, without pain.

Brandon and Luz, as law enforcement officers, had seen such things too often. They were silent for a moment before composing themselves, turning their gaze to Milton to await his next order.

Milton put away his pistol, walked briskly toward the door, and commanded: "Brandon, take the money. Luz, get the car. I need to change into my gear."

"Move fast, we don't have much time."

Putting on heavy gear inside a vehicle was incredibly cumbersome and awkward, but to save as much time as possible, Milton and Brandon climbed into the back seat, one after the other, and struggled to equip themselves. Luz took the driver's seat and headed for the hospital.

*Rustle, rustle, rustle...* The sounds of Milton changing into heavy tactical gear and Brandon helping him filled the back seat.

A firefight was imminent... The atmosphere grew tense.

Luz couldn't help but strike up a conversation to ease the mood: "So, how much money did we actually get?"

Brandon pulled out a stack of dollar bills and shoved them into the back seat storage pocket. "I grabbed the whole stack; I didn't have time to count. Judging by the thickness, it should be around 10,000 dollars."

Milton secured the last ballistic plate and glanced casually at the interface notification.

[Host's faction successfully confiscated $10,385, earning a five-fold (red) point reward. Current red points: 58,975.]

Over ten thousand dollars—Brandon’s estimate was close.

Luz, who was driving, sounded quite excited: "So, according to the rules, how much do I get?"

Brandon started counting on his fingers: "Ten thousand dollars. The team takes 20% off the top, so that's... uh, let me calculate..."

Milton answered without a second thought: "Two thousand dollars each."

"..."

Luz was once again stunned by such an immediate response: "Boss, I suddenly feel like you're really amazing. You can calculate such complex math in one second!"

What was there to calculate? There were plenty of people who could fight! Talented people who were good at math were rare, and those who were both good at fighting and good at math were even rarer!

Brandon, having finished counting on his fingers and confirming Milton was right, sighed: "I feel like the title 'Boss' isn't great. It sounds like the leader of a slum gang and doesn't match your capability. How about we call you 'Godfather' from now on? I see a lot of powerful Mafiosi called that."

"I am just an inspector, not a Godfather." Milton was somewhat helpless. He put on his tactical helmet and cut off this pointless topic. "Stop talking nonsense... Let's briefly arrange the deployment for the hospital breach."

Brandon was a bit confused: "It's just a hospital, do we need tactics? We can't beat the Vanko Gang, but we can't beat a bunch of doctors and nurses?"

Milton felt the vibration of the car and chuckled: "This is a private hospital. Do you know what a private hospital is? There must be armed security inside, maybe even Vanko Gang desperadoes. If we don't prepare, we'll just be asking to be killed when we rush in."

The cost of a single surgery could be more than what an ordinary civilian earns in ten years... Since these wealthy people who fear death pay such high prices, how could they not hire thugs to protect their safety? Especially since the Saint Lucia Clinic was currently engaged in illegal activities—they needed armed forces even more to ensure their own security.

Brandon really hadn't imagined a hospital would have armed thugs. He shook his head violently. "Poverty has limited my imagination. F***, once I have money, I'm going to get treated at a hospital like this too... Boss, how are we going to fight in a moment?"

Milton loosened his neck. "Maintain the element of surprise, rush directly into the hospital, and take out all armed personnel. You guard the staircase, and Luz and I will rush down to find the clues to the drug bottle swap point. Your responsibility is to ensure our rear is secure and to intercept anyone trying to call the police as much as possible."

"Once we have the clues, we immediately get in the car and leave. No entanglement."

Brandon thought carefully and repeated: "'As much as possible'?"

"Yes, the hospital is huge, and we aren't familiar with the layout. A silent breach is impossible," Milton explained. "Besides, there are too few of us. We can't watch every exit; preventing them from calling the police is unrealistic. We can only delay it as much as possible... Remember, the longer you stall, the higher our chances of success."

Until they caught them red-handed with ironclad evidence, they could never be caught by the police; otherwise, it would be considered violent law enforcement or even a terrorist attack. But after that, they would be heroic figures standing up to organized crime.

Brandon thought for a moment and then asked a question: "What if the police station is cautious and has already stationed officers at the drug bottle swap point?"

"Doesn't matter," Milton shrugged. "What I'm worried about is the police force getting there before us, officially sealing the site, snatching the law enforcement authority, and cutting their losses to protect themselves."

"If it's just one or two officers stationed there, we just take them out and claim it was a Vanko Gang terrorist attack that led to the officers' deaths, right?"

"...That's ruthless!"

Luz, who was driving, sighed, then said: "We're almost at the hospital. Do we drive in or get out and sneak in?"

Milton took a deep breath: "Drive in."