Chapter 25: A Garage at Last!

The inspector’s anxiety eased slightly upon seeing Milton, as if he had finally found a savior.

"You really are the 'Hell Taxman'?!"

*Don't call me by that embarrassing and hideous nickname...*

Milton internally railed against the title, itching to punch Brandon for his loose lips. However, maintaining his composure as the leader, he replied in an even tone, "Stand there and talk. Don't be agitated. Speak slowly."

Sharing the profession of an inspector did not make Milton feel any closer or safer. Who knew what this person’s true motives were? He had more enemies at the inspection station than he could count.

The inspector remained anxious. "Three days ago..."

"Tell me your name first," Milton interrupted. "Take your time; we aren't pressed for a few seconds."

It wasn't that he strictly needed the man's name; rather, he needed to seize control of the conversation. By establishing his authority, he hoped to calm his colleague down through his own composed demeanor.

"Just call me Lutz..." The other man’s calm, steady attitude did indeed help relax Lutz, and his tone gradually leveled out. "A colleague I was working fieldwork with has gone missing. The last place she was seen was right here!"

A colleague... missing...

Milton immediately recalled the three vagrants mentioning a missing police officer in the area earlier. It seemed the missing person wasn't a police officer, but an inspector.

At the same time, Milton dropped half of his defenses toward the man. No one knew the location of "the boss's" house beforehand, making it nearly impossible for anyone to have orchestrated this. When the same information appeared via two different channels, its credibility skyrocketed. Of course, he didn't rule out extreme scenarios, so he remained half-guarded.

"You should report this to the police, not come to me," Milton said, his expression unchanged. "I am not responsible for this, and I won't be looking for anyone."

"No... no!" Lutz grew agitated again. "This isn't a simple disappearance. Veronica just vanished... Do you understand? No one was surprised, no one filed a report. Our colleagues never mentioned her again, and no family or friends came looking. It’s as if she never existed at the inspection station at all."

Lutz’s expression turned grim and fearful. "If someone hadn't mentioned seeing Veronica while I was questioning people on Green Leaf Street these past few days, I would have started to doubt if she ever existed at all, or if I had developed some mental illness and imagined the whole thing..."

"She just evaporated into thin air!"

Beside them, Brandon felt his hair stand on end.

***

Milton pondered for a moment before asking a critical question: "Before she disappeared, was she investigating anything in particular?"

Milton felt a slight ripple of concern regarding the disappearance—though not much. He knew that if he were to die, he would likely meet the same fate.

Lutz thought for a long time before hesitantly revealing a detail. "Veronica once complained to me that there were a bunch of vagrants with rotting limbs showing up on Green Leaf Street lately, and she grumbled a bit about the charity foundation... That’s all. We aren't suicidal; we wouldn't touch any dangerous cases."

*That isn't dangerous? Do you have some kind of misunderstanding about medical charity foundations?*

Milton was momentarily speechless.

People in small towns generally had lower levels of education. Milton could spot the problems with the medicine at a glance, and he could infer what they were doing based on the history of this so-called charity foundation. However, many people, limited by their experience, were unable to realize such things. If Brandon hadn't been in constant contact with the Van Kan Gang and black-market pharmacies, he likely wouldn't have sensed the problem immediately either.

This Lutz was investigating the same path as Milton... he just didn't know the nature of the enemy he was facing. Milton needed to rope him into the scheme before he realized the severity of the situation and got cold feet.

Milton spoke immediately: "I can try to help you find her, but you must do something for me in return."

The missing female inspector had likely uncovered vital information about the Green Vine Foundation, which was why she had been silenced. If he could find her or the clues she left behind, it might lead to a major breakthrough in his investigation!

Lutz nodded gratefully. "Just say it! I’m so grateful for your help... Veronica saved my life during a mission, and her cousin died of illness; I can't just abandon her. Whatever you need me to do, just say the word!"

"While you're on duty, help me collect all suspicious intelligence. This includes things like the charity foundation you mentioned earlier," Milton said coolly. "If I call you for an urgent matter, you must drop everything and come. Of course, all of this will be compensated. Can you do that?"

*I can get paid for doing work?*

Lutz found it hard to believe he would hear such a niche word in a place where gangs ran wild and order was near collapse. Even working fieldwork for the inspection station as a tariff collector was unpaid—collectors had to use search warrants that were barely enough to scare petty thugs to scrape together fines and taxes. They had to hand over a hefty sum to Varta every month, and only the remainder counted as their own income.

He had expected this "Hell Taxman" and "maniac" to simply shoot anyone who didn't listen to him, not offer compensation.

"No problem! No problem!" Lutz thought of his unemployed wife, his elderly parents, and his newborn child at home, and nodded eagerly. "I'll work for you!"

[Lutz has become an "Informant," currently an ally.]

Seeing this notification, Milton finally dropped his remaining defenses. He turned to get into his car and commanded, "We’re going to talk elsewhere. Follow close behind."

First, he would collect the two thousand dollars from the Van Kan Gang’s assassin, then return to the stronghold to tie up some loose ends and discuss the next course of action. The Van Kan Gang would not give him much time.

***

The address provided by the assassin was near the Central Church. Milton found over $2,300 in the room, along with a Tokarev TT-33 pistol.

After paying a brief visit to "the boss's" grave at the church cemetery, the three returned to the black-market pharmacy on the old street.

The area outside the pharmacy had been cleaned up, a new door had been installed, and the semi-collapsed staircase at the sewer entrance had been reinforced with iron frames and plates; it was at least usable again.

Milton descended the stairs into the small living room on the basement level. Brandon and Lutz followed behind, standing on either side of the room, waiting for instructions with serious expressions.

This scene... finally looked like a small team.

Milton sat on a patched-up, dilapidated sofa, fighting off intense exhaustion as he tallied his funds. Excluding the capital required to maintain the underground stronghold, he had over $24,000 available and just under 70,000 red points.

Turning the gold bars and the pharmacy’s medicinal stock into cash would take time—time he might not have.

The good news was that once he had his own faction, Milton no longer needed to spend red points to redeem certain pistol models and all ammunition. The bad news was that the cost-effectiveness of using points to redeem items was far inferior to purchasing them with cash. Milton realized that, regardless of what was redeemed, the panel was meant for emergencies; the quantities were limited, and the value was low.

Having clarified all the resources at his disposal, Milton turned to Brandon. "Go find the owner of the house next door and buy it. We'll use it as a garage. Send me the bill when you're done."

The panel could now redeem civilian vehicles using regular points, but only if he had at least one garage. So, a garage had to be acquired first!

Brandon nodded. "Understood. I'll go right now. I'll also check how much fuel is left in the generator."

Lutz watched Brandon leave out of the corner of his eye, then saw Milton looking at him. As a newcomer, he couldn't help but feel nervous.

*I wonder what kind of task I'll be given? I hope it isn't too dangerous...*

Milton fought to keep his eyes open, waved a hand at Lutz, and said, "Get out and shut the door."

Lutz didn't quite understand his assignment and let out a confused, "Ah... ah?"

Milton took a deep breath, pointed at the door, and said, "Get out. I'm going to sleep."