Chapter 18: The Shift in Offense and Defense

The pharmacy quickly evacuated all personnel.

Before leaving, Leah wiped her eyes and whispered, “Inspector, you must defeat them!”

Milton took a deep breath to steady his voice. “I’ll do my best.”

Everyone retreated... which meant the situation was dire—so serious that even this formidable inspector couldn’t protect them all!

What exactly had happened...?

With anxious and fearful hearts, the others at the pharmacy left one after another.

A minute later, only Milton, Brandon, and the “boss” remained in the pharmacy.

Brandon sensed the heavy atmosphere and asked, “What now? Run away?”

His gaze never left Milton—the inspector who had just taken down six enemies alone, surpassing even the most skilled colleagues Brandon had seen at the precinct.

In tense moments, people instinctively look for the strongest among them, deferring to their decisions.

“Six people died here. You think you can still run?” Milton shook his head. “Not just you. Even your families, even the families of those outside—they won’t get away.”

After this battle, the Black Pharmacy would undoubtedly be on the Van Kang Gang’s blacklist. These people had been forcibly dragged onto a sinking ship.

But they seemed unaware of it...

Gripping his service pistol, Brandon gritted his teeth and shouted, “Then we fight! Let’s go all out! These bastards—do you think I’m scared of them? By the way, how many are there, and what weapons do they have?”

Milton replied casually, “Five. They’re armed with rifles, and one of them even has body armor.”

Brandon: “...Maybe we should just run, sell what we can, and see if we can scrape together three tickets to America by ship.”

Trying to take on enemies like that with just pistols? That’s practically suicide.

“Enough nonsense. I’ve got some gear in my truck.” Milton glanced at his remaining points. “You two—do you know how to use automatic rifles?”

As a police officer, Brandon had trained with them. He nodded. “Yes.”

But the “boss” shook his head. “I’ve used submachine guns and pistols a couple of times, but never a rifle.”

There was no time for training now. Milton didn’t want to drag a liability into the group. “Then you help set traps. Once that’s done, you retreat.”

“No.” The “boss” refused firmly. “Body armor is expensive; they won’t all be wearing it. Give me a submachine gun, and I can help... You two alone can’t take them down. I’m not good with guns, but I won’t hold you back.”

Aren’t you afraid of dying...? Isn’t running this pharmacy supposed to be about making money and eventually moving to America?

Unexpectedly, this teammate was reliable.

Milton glanced at the two and suddenly smiled. “Weren’t you working with the Van Kang Gang before, getting drugs from them? And now you want to fight them?”

Brandon sneered as he followed Milton outside. “Do you develop feelings for a supplier? A supplier who hikes prices madly, hoards stock, flips out at the slightest provocation, and kills people on a whim? Besides, as you said, they won’t spare my family.”

The “boss” whispered hoarsely, “If we take them out, I’ll buy a ticket to the States, get a house in San Francisco, and live out my days in peace. This place is exhausting and dangerous. Running all over, sometimes even going to places like trash disposal sites for supplies... It’s better to just leave.”

Milton reminded him, “What about the pharmacy? You’re quitting?”

“My supply network’s completely ruined. What’s the point? If you want it, take over. You’re an inspector—you probably have other ways to get stock. The property is under Brandon’s name; you two can handle it.”

Looking relaxed, the “boss” dreamed of retirement as he and Milton approached the pickup truck.

Milton and Brandon climbed into the cargo bed and pulled down the tarp.

Brandon, even prepared as he was, couldn’t help but widen his eyes at the equipment inside.

Two sets of heavy ballistic gear identical to Milton’s, an SKS rifle, an MP5, three walkie-talkies, a large quantity of ammunition, six different kinds of grenades, several animal traps, and some miscellaneous items he couldn’t identify!

There were even two rounds of M374 model 81mm mortar shells!

Active U.S. military issue!

Getting hold of these would cost at least $40,000 and take a long time.

Is this what inspectors do—confiscate such high-grade gear?

They had no idea these were acquired by Milton, who had grit his teeth and exchanged 100,000 points for them.

If it weren’t for these temporary teammates joining the faction and expanding Milton’s “influence,” the system wouldn’t have allowed so much equipment to be redeemed.

“Where did you get such new AKs?” Brandon took the 56 carbine from Milton and stared at the SKS on the truck, shocked. “You plan to use mortars on them? I only see shells, no mortars.”

This isn’t an AK...

Milton checked the brand-new SKS in his hands, feeling a bit speechless. “This isn’t a battlefield. Mortars aren’t as reliable as your grandma’s old slippers... These shells are for booby traps.”

As defenders, they had to maximize their advantage.

Avoid direct gunfights whenever possible!

Act like a sneaky assassin if you can!

If the shop were unlocked, Milton would have loved to exchange for a heavy machine gun—a 12.7mm API round sweeping the doorway, shredding any body armor to bits.

But the current weapon exchange limit only extended to assault rifles.

Artillery was available but only small-caliber mortars.

Still, it was enough.

The M374 shell had a blast radius over seven meters. With luck, one hit could wipe out the entire enemy group!

Two booby traps would suffice. More would make enemies suspicious and severely limit their own maneuvering space.

After setting two traps, the enemy wouldn’t know if more lay hidden, keeping them on edge and curbing rapid movement—achieving the tactical goal.

They suited up and returned to the sewer entrance.

With over twenty minutes to prepare, it was time to lay some traps!

Milton handed Brandon some tools. “Here are M3 pull fuses, an M10 universal detonator, M7 detonating caps, some fishing line, and wire cutters. Take a shell and make a tripwire booby trap for the doorway—hurry.”

Brandon stared dumbfounded at the tools. “I don’t know how!”

“You don’t?!” Milton turned in shock. “Aren’t you a cop?”

“Am I supposed to know how to do this as a cop?!”

“Get out of the way; I’ll do it.”

Useless teammate! Can’t even handle a simple task!

Milton snatched the tools, unscrewed the impact fuse from the M374 shell’s head, and screwed in the M10 universal detonator.

Then he quickly removed the base of the pull fuse, inserted the detonating cap into the base, tightened it with wire cutters, screwed it into the M10 detonator, and finally reattached the pull fuse.

One booby trap was done—simple and quick.

It took less than two minutes.

Milton cut a length of fishing line and connected it from the pull fuse on the shell to the door handle.

Now, when the door opened, the fishing line would pull the fuse and detonate the shell.

After securing the shell and ensuring the line was taut, Milton put away his tools, disarmed the safety, and carefully retreated.

The booby trap was now live. One false move could trigger a tragic—or even absurd—explosion.

This was a grenade launcher round!

At that moment, both the “boss” and Brandon looked at Milton strangely.

“Does the inspector’s skill set include mine laying?”

“If you don’t know how to handle violent tax resisters, how can you collect taxes? The basic premise of collecting money from someone is you have to be able to beat them,” Milton said with disdain toward his two spectators. “Alright, let’s discuss tactics.”

P.S.: Strictly speaking, guns like the FN FAL and M14 are battle rifles or main battle rifles and thus aren’t classified as assault rifles in this book to keep the categories clear.