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Chapter 1380 Red Sea 2
Suez City has been under attack for about a week. The enemy is numerous and diverse, with at least seven or eight different uniforms and languages ​​spoken, which, according to local Arabs, are likely from the vicinity of the Italian peninsula.

These troops showed clear deficiencies in combat skills and willpower, reflecting at least insufficient regular training. Their equipment was also outdated, with many still using bows and arrows.

Even if the Arabs said that they were skilled archers from the Brescia region, bows and arrows are still cold weapons. For the time being, they may not be much worse than flintlock muzzle-loading smoothbore guns, but they can never catch up with rifled guns that use percussion caps, whether they are muzzle-loading or breech-loading.

But this morning a new unit appeared, mostly wearing trousers with legs of different colors and pointed helmets. Some of them were carrying oval shields that were more than half a person tall, while most were using muskets, the specific model of which is currently unknown.

In addition to a large number of muskets, they also had dozens of cannons, both large and heavy. Compared to the Ottoman Janissaries, these were true artillery pieces, with a range similar to that of the short-barreled naval guns mounted on the city walls, and perhaps even exceeding it if loaded with more propellant.

Its power is considerable; even solid shot can be quite destructive to rammed earth walls, as evidenced by the corner towers. While its accuracy isn't exceptionally high, it's generally sufficient, especially for targeting large objects like city walls.

"General, General, God help us, we're so glad you're alright. But this city is in trouble. The enemy is advancing with the help of artillery fire. If they get any closer, the city walls might be blown up!"

Before the staff officers could react, an elderly man with a white beard, his head wrapped in dozens of white cloths and the patterns on his robe gleaming in the sunlight, rushed over. He quickly untied his headscarf and used it as a duster to brush away the dust from Gao Lie, venting all his worries about the battle situation in Chinese.

"Iskandaranibai, don't panic, it's just an accident. The Imperial army will never let the enemy into the city. Even if they can't stop them, they will notify everyone in advance to go to the dock and board a ship for temporary shelter."

"Pah! Everyone says you're very knowledgeable, and that you've even been to Rome and Paris. Then can you tell me precisely where this army that appeared this morning came from?"

The old man known as Iskandarani was a Bey, a high-ranking nobleman, in Suez. He was also the temporary lord of Suez, a position elected by dozens of local nobles after the Ottomans were driven out.

Of course, the most important vote must come from the Commander of the Ming Dynasty's Naval Landing Forces. Whoever is friendly, enthusiastic, and willing to get things done to the occupying forces is the most suitable leader—this has remained unchanged for thousands of years.

His name reveals that he is Egyptian, from Alexandria. Alexandria is a very ancient port, with a history as long as Mediterranean trade. His family, Hawara, was also very prominent in the area, having been merchants for centuries.

Iskandarani lived up to his ancestors' bloodline, also becoming an outstanding businessman whose footprints covered North Africa, Southern Europe, the Arabian Peninsula, and Southeast Asia, and he even visited Guangzhou and Macau.

Furthermore, he possessed a talent for languages. Learning Chinese from scratch at over fifty years old would be difficult for most people. However, he didn't find it challenging at all. Even before being elected city lord, he could already communicate with Ming soldiers in broken Chinese, which greatly helped him gain the support of the occupying forces.

"That's the army of the Republic of Venice... Don't get me wrong, Venetians usually use mercenaries in battle, but they do have an army. On the contrary, Venice has a well-equipped and well-trained standing army, whose members are mostly from Switzerland and Ireland."

This is precisely what I'm worried about. Since the Venetians have deployed their standing army, this battle must be decided; simply investing without expecting anything in return is not in their nature. If possible, General, please tell me, what are the chances of holding this city? I can assure God I won't spread rumors or cause panic among the citizens; that would do me no good.

But those of us who have consistently supported the Imperial Army should also have enough time to manage our industries and goods, so that when the General returns, he will still have our support!

Iskandarani answered the question very decisively, as if he hadn't even thought about it, which shows that he does have some knowledge, even the rarely seen regular Venetian army knows it.

But the conversation that followed was not so pleasant. He actually wanted to prepare for an escape in advance, claiming it was to preserve strength and wait for the army to return one day.

"A profiteer!" This was Gao Lie's heartfelt curse.

If they couldn't bring in sufficient goods and preferential taxes, this old man, along with over 90% of the city's nobles, wouldn't support the Ming navy. There was no sentiment involved; it was all about self-interest.

"Do you know what's in your warehouse right now?" He said this while smiling. But against the backdrop of his dusty face, his red lips and white teeth looked rather unsettling.

"...They're all weapons and ammunition!" Iskandarani's expression changed upon hearing this, and he looked around, deliberately lowering his voice.

This isn't a guess; it's something I saw with my own eyes. It was precisely because they rented out warehouses near the docks to the Ming army that they earned a good income. And if the warehouses were damaged, the army would even cover the repairs or compensation.

"Those are only a small part; the rest is still at sea. If we weren't confident we could hold this place, would we have brought so many weapons and ammunition?"

Costs—you're a businessman, you should know costs best, and my emperor understands their importance even more. So rest assured, no one can take this city before we all die in battle.

Even if we all die in battle, reinforcements will come to take our place. Stop thinking about escape; take your small army and patrol. Be careful, and don't let the bad guys have any opportunity to take advantage of the city. If they set fire to the other warehouses, your losses will be enormous!

How does one gain the trust of a cunning merchant? Through his interactions with Iskandarani and the local nobles, Gao Lie gradually mastered this rather profound skill. In truth, it's not that complicated; it boils down to four words: seeing is believing!
Trying to fool businessmen with empty words is ineffective; they are the kind of people you find hardest to trust. But once you show them tangible things, like goods, capital, or any valuable item, they can immediately enter a stage of building trust without much explanation.

(End of this chapter)