The arrogance started from Chinatown

Chapter 598 Union
In a manor in San Diego, several men sat in a bright living room, leisurely drinking afternoon tea and discussing things.

"Those plantations... maybe we can think of a solution!" a middle-aged man said.

"We have to wait for Federico to come back. He has a longer-term vision than us!" said another slightly younger person.

"Haven't you contacted Federico yet?"

"Not yet. Maybe the telegraph line is broken, so he has not been able to receive telegrams. But there should be news soon!"

The few of them chatted leisurely without any worries.

The assassinations of so many wealthy people from Cuba's upper class caused widespread concern throughout the country.

Not only in the central and eastern regions, but even in the western regions directly controlled by the Spanish governor, the news was spreading like wildfire, with all kinds of information flying around.

Many people were scared.

This is so brutal.

However, it had little impact on the Betancourt family.

They were somewhat relieved that Federico had a long-term vision.

Moreover, the decline of so many families this time is also their opportunity.

It wasn't until two days later that they finally received the news.

A young man in gentleman's clothes walked quickly to Carmen Betancourt, the second-in-command of the Betancourt family, a congressman from Santiago, and the owner of several large sugar mills.

With a grim look on his face, he placed a telegram on the table in front of Carmen Betancourt.

"Sir! Take a look at this telegram!"

Carmen Betancourt has always been famous for her grace in the social circles of Santiago. She can always maintain her grace and remain calm in the face of emergencies.

However, at this moment, the moment he saw the telegram, his eyes widened, he slapped his hands on the table and stood up.

"What? Is the news confirmed? Is this true?"

"The news has been confirmed!" the young man whispered.

"Why did the news come back only now?" Carmen Betancourt's face was full of anger and disbelief.

Even more incomprehensible.

Federico had anticipated the situation and made a deal with the Chinese man.

He also brought quite a few people with him.

However, the telegram said that the Chinese had turned hostile and a gunfight had broken out between the two sides, and it was unknown whether Federico was alive or dead.

"Only a few people escaped and took a lot of effort to send the news back." said the young man on the side.

"Where are they?"

"They are still in Orkin. They have been assigned fast horses. They will be back in one day..."

That night, only a very small number of the independence army led by Federico Betancourt escaped, but they had no idea how to send a telegram to the Betancourt family.

After two days of wandering, he fled to Holguin in the northern part of Oriental Province, where he found the Betancourt family's property and sent a telegram back.

Carmen Betancourt stood there with a gloomy look on her face. After a moment, she took her coat off the hanger and walked out while saying, "Send a few telegrams!"

Originally, Chen Zhengwei sent people to massacre members of other families, but the Betancourt family was not worried.

However, at this time... since he has fallen out with Federico and even Federico's life or death is unknown, the other party will also take action against the Betancourt family.

Family members must hold a meeting and prepare for the response.

Most of the Betancourt family members are now in Santiago and will gather in a mansion in two hours.

When everyone learned that Chen Zhengwei had gone back on his word and Federico's life or death was unknown, they were extremely angry.

"We must take revenge! He is not the only one with a gun, and he is not the only one who can kill people!" A man slammed the table angrily and stood up to pace on the ground.

"Doesn't he want Chinese laborers? We killed all those Chinese laborers!"

"We have handed over all our Chinese laborers, but other people's plantations still have tens of thousands of Chinese laborers!"

"Those people were massacred by the Chinese, and some of them want to take revenge on the Chinese! As long as we can convince some people... we will make the Chinese pay with blood!"

Someone immediately stood up to object: "I disagree. We need to first figure out what happened."

"You want to massacre those Chinese laborers, but you will only dig our own graves and bury the entire Betancourt family."

"Don't forget he still has a fleet!"

The man who spoke first said angrily:

"Find out what happened? Can't you see the Chinese man's methods? Now that he has taken action against Federico, he will definitely not let us go!"

"If you want to wait for death, then go home and wait for death. Even if I die, I will drag those Chinese people to be buried with me!"

There was a lot of debate in the room, with people supporting different attitudes.

Carmen Betancourt watched the people arguing and stopped them after a moment.

"We have to do something! For Federico, for revenge, and for us."

"Besides, we're not sure if Federico is dead or not!"

"We should contact other people first, those families that were massacred. Maybe there are still survivors among them, as well as their friends..."

"That Chinese is very powerful. Now the Spanish governor has not responded. I suspect they have already reached an agreement."

"So we need to unite all those who can be united. Even if they are strong, they will not be stronger than the Spanish. We can fight the Spanish for ten years, and we can also drive the Chinese into the sea."

"Also, we cannot massacre the Chinese laborers. That would make us a target of public criticism, and even the international community would not tolerate it. No one would be able to protect us."

"But we can bring them here as hostages, and we can select some of them and force them to fight the Chinese."

After Carmen Betancourt expressed her idea, she received support from others. Soon, the Betancourt family kept sending telegrams to contact wealthy people and independence forces in other places.

……

While the Betancourt family was busy uniting other forces, Chen Zhengwei was lying on a recliner in a pair of shorts.

The palm leaves above blocked out most of the sunlight.

Two mixed-race girls were fanning Chen Zhengwei and passing him wine.

The girls at the table were wearing cool long skirts and only a tube top. Their bronze skin glowed in the sun, and they looked full of healthy vitality.

Wielkopolski was wearing trousers and a shirt, sitting on a recliner next to him, his head covered in sweat.

It's hot.

He wanted to follow Chen Zhengwei's example and wear shorts to enjoy his vacation, but unfortunately Chen Zhengwei disagreed.

Chen Zhengwei really didn't want to see his fat body.

Looking at the muscular body of Chen Zhengwei next to him, he felt envious and wondered if he should work on losing weight.

Of course he knew that there was something wrong with him. The doctors had warned him that if he continued like this, he would probably not live more than five years, or at most ten years.

But now he gets hungry if he eats less, and his huge weight makes it difficult for him to exercise.

Retracting his thoughts, Dapolan asked:
"Boss, what do we do next? We just wait here?"

"Wait for the others to come back... and wait for those Cubans to unite with each other..." Chen Zhengwei said slowly.

"Wait for them to gather together, then lead them out." Chen Zhengwei clenched one hand into a fist and hit the palm of the other hand. "The sand is the most troublesome when it is scattered, but as long as it gathers together, it will be easy to solve. Just like making dumplings... You have never seen dumplings!"

"Boss, I've eaten dumplings! I ate them during the Chinese New Year two years ago..." Big Poland immediately explained.

"Then have you ever seen how dumplings are made?" Chen Zhengwei asked back.

"Not really." Dapolon shrugged. "But I understand what you mean, boss."

"I'll send a telegram to Juan later, asking him to visit the Spanish governor and tell him that I'll visit him in a few days and discuss the matters of those plantations with him." Chen Zhengwei said lazily.

The sea breeze made him feel a little sleepy.

On the dock in the distance, some ragged Chinese were boarding the ship.

This is the last batch of Chinese.

Only about 5000 people were delivered that day, and more than 1000 were on the way.

Just as Chen Zhengwei guessed, it was not far from home, only 20 kilometers.

He sent people on horseback to search along the mainland in the middle of the night, and they found it at daybreak.

Those people have not yet encountered the escaped independence army.

The next thing is simple.

After killing all the escort personnel, bring the Chinese here and then load them onto ships and send them to Galveston.

From there it was sent to Los Angeles, where it was registered and inspected, and then sent to the railroad.

Although they still had to work hard, at least they could get paid by Chen Zhengwei and they could also have enough to eat, which was much better than being enslaved in Cuba.

By the time they paid off the money they owed Chen Zhengwei, Los Angeles would be almost completed.

They can work in a factory or buy a few acres of land in Oregon.

You can go to Texas, too.

"Apply some oil to me!" Chen Zhengwei turned and instructed the girls beside him. Thinking that they couldn't understand English, Chen Zhengwei pointed to a can of olive oil next to him.

Apply this on your body...

Mainly because it is brighter.

The second is moisturizing.

……

At this time, outside the city of Kayabarien near Santa Clara, the sound of gunfire was like a rainstorm.

Wen Bingzhong wiped the blood off his face and said through gritted teeth: "Have you confirmed the other party's identity?"

He never expected that when he was about to reach the port according to the retreat route, he was ambushed and several people were killed on the spot.

"It's the Independence Army!" The people next to Wen Bingzhong were Juan's men. The moment they met, he confirmed the other party's identity.

"There are at least hundreds of people!"

"Fuck those hundreds of people, set up the machine guns for me!" Wen Bingzhong said gritting his teeth as he looked at the grass and trees in the distance.

At the same time, in the woods opposite, a dark-skinned man as thin as a stick was staring outside with gnashing teeth.

"It's those Chinese. We must take revenge this time!"

His name is Manuel, and he was originally the leader of an independent organization.

However, half a year ago, in order to raise funds to support the development of the organization, their organization set its sights on foreign businessmen and killed several of Chen Zhengwei's men.

Then the whole village was wiped out.

It was the time when Chen Zhengwei sent someone over.

He could only take the remaining people and join another independent organization.

This time, he read in the newspaper that the Chinese had slaughtered many wealthy people from the upper class in the interior of Cuba, and guessed that they might leave from the port. Then he persuaded the leader of the organization to ambush outside the city.

As expected, they met.

"Paimon, they killed so many rich people this time. If we just kill them, we will become famous immediately!"

"By then, many people will come to us, and those wealthy people will also support us!" Manuel kept speaking to encourage others.

"Shut up!" Paimon, the head of another independent organization, sneered with a ferocious look on his face.

"You have to understand one thing, it's me! Not us!"

"Aim and shoot!" Paimon shouted to the side. The bullets fired by his men made his heart hurt as if blood was dripping.

This was money he had saved up with great difficulty.

The black people from the Cuban independence organization immediately slowed down their shooting.

On both sides of the road in the distance, Wen Bingzhong and his men reacted and set up machine guns.

Wen Bingzhong raised his hand to signal the machine gunner not to shoot, then turned his head and gestured to both sides.

"After we open fire, scatter and go around from both sides. Don't let them get away!"

"If I don't kill them all, I'll be so damn sorry for my brothers who died!"

Seeing everyone nodding, Wen Bingzhong immediately waved his hand downwards: "Hit me!"

Thug, tug, tug, tug!

Countless bullets instantly sprayed out from the muzzle of the machine gun and swept into the jungle.

Everything was shattered by machine gun bullets.

Both the trees and the human bodies seemed to be trampled and torn apart by an invisible giant hand.

Some independent soldiers hiding in the woods fell down like straws cut off.

Manuel was still talking to Paimon when he saw something flying by, and then Paimon's head was gone, with blood splattering all over his face.

Manuel's mind went blank.

After the machine gun opened fire, the independence army was instantly stunned.

When they saw their comrades being torn to pieces by bullets, the independent soldiers realized how terrifying the enemy was.

The other independence soldiers hurriedly lay on the ground, pressed their bodies tightly against the ground, and gasped for breath with fear in their eyes.

And around them, the palm trees were simply unable to block the bullets. Under the tearing of the bullets, the palm trees as thick as thighs broke with a snapping sound and fell downwards.

With just one machine gun, hundreds of independent soldiers were suppressed.

The rest of Wen Bingzhong's men ran into the jungle with submachine guns in their hands, their faces filled with hatred, and went around the area.

Thanks to the training manual written by Chen Zhengwei earlier, these people trained in California for another six months, learning to adapt to various complex environments.

Therefore, the dense forests here did not pose much of a hindrance to them.

Although it is far inferior to the independent army that grew up here, the firing rate and continuous fire of the submachine gun completely make up for this shortcoming.

Soon, when the machine gun fire stopped, continuous submachine gun fire was heard in the jungle in the distance.

That clacking typing sound.

(End of this chapter)