Reborn in 1878: America's Number One Bandit

Chapter 104 Give me Ross Precision, and I'll give you freedom.
"Boom!"

A dull thud, like a heavy object falling to the ground, suddenly came from the factory workshop downstairs.

Soli's eyelids twitched suddenly.

He immediately pricked up his ears, but could no longer hear anything.

At this time of day, there would usually be a few workers on the night shift, maintaining the expensive machine tools or taking inventory in the basement. There would always be some scattered, familiar noises.

But now, there is only deathly silence.

This silence was eerie, so eerie that it made people uneasy.

Solly Ross's well-honed sense of alertness immediately began to stimulate his nerves.

"Bruno!" he shouted toward the door.

no respond.

"Bruno! Where the hell have you been?"

He stood up and slowly walked towards the oak door with frosted glass.

Just as his hand was about to touch the brass doorknob.

The door opened silently inward.

A wave of cold air, mixed with the smell of blood, rushed in instantly.

Immediately afterwards, a huge figure was pushed in and fell heavily to the ground.

It's Bruno!

Solly Ross gasped in shock.

The bodyguard, as strong as a bull, was lying face down on the carpet. A black crossbow bolt had emerged from his back.

Bruno scratched at the carpet in vain, stared blankly, and then died.

"Oh God!"

Solly sobered up instantly.

He didn't even have time to feel fear; instinctively, he turned and lunged at the desk—the gun in the drawer was his only hope now.

His fingertips had barely touched the edge of the drawer when a foot slammed into it!
"Ahhh!"

Soli screamed in agony.

He was grabbed by the hair, pulled back violently, and thrown back into the chair.

Only then did he see who it was.

There were six in total.

They were all dressed in dark, coarse cloth clothing for ease of movement, and their faces were covered with black veils.

After a brief moment of panic, Solly forced himself to calm down.

He was, after all, a predator who had climbed to the top in the lawless land of San Francisco.

In this situation, as long as I'm not dead, there's still room for maneuver.

With his uninjured hand, he took a Havana from the cigar box and then fumbled for a match to light.

"hiss……"

He took a deep breath and finally regained some composure.

"Gentlemen, please don't be impulsive. I think there must be some misunderstanding. There's nothing in this world that can't be discussed."

The masked man did not respond.

The group split up: two guarded the door, two stood by the window, and one stood behind Solly.

The other person, clearly the leader, pulled over a guest's chair and sat down casually opposite Solly.

The man's silence was more oppressive than the bodyguard's corpse.

Soli swallowed hard, the cigar smoke stinging his eyes.

"Are you doing this for money? Or for something else?"

He tried to remain calm: "Do you know who I am? I'm Solly Ross, doing business in San Francisco. You know Quinn O'Doyle? The King of Carney Street, we play cards together every week."

He glanced at the silent figures and continued to increase the stakes.

"Do you know the police chief? He's my son's godfather. And there's Luigi Sforza, the Italian. Our businesses in North Beach are all connected. Even the people in Pinkerton have to give me some face."

Solly Ross spoke faster and faster, trying to weave a protective net for himself using these names.

“Kill me, sir, and you’ll be in serious trouble. The entire San Francisco underworld will be alerted. The chief will turn the city upside down!”

"Why don't we have a proper talk?" He laboriously pushed the pile of gold bars on the table forward.

“Look at this, there are at least 30,000 silver dollars here. If you’re after money, take it and leave. Leave now, and I swear, I, Solly Ross, will not pursue this matter, and we’ll pretend nothing happened tonight.”

“Boys, this gold is enough for each of you to go to the Barbary coast and buy two of the most beautiful French girls, and live a comfortable and happy life for the rest of your days.”

Having said all that, Solly couldn't think of any other bargaining chips he could offer.

Coercion and bribery, that seems to be all.

He could only manage a forced smile as he looked at the other person.

And the leader on the other side finally made a move.

He tilted his head slightly, admiring Solly's chubby face, which was distorted with fright.

"It's clear you really like gold, Mr. Ross."

"Yes, yes, who wouldn't love it?"

Seeing that the other party finally responded, Solly perked up, thinking he had found a way to negotiate: "Gold is the language of God."

“What a coincidence,” the masked man interrupted him. “I also like gold.”

He slowly reached into his coat pocket.

"I also have some small gold ornaments here."

"I just acquired it recently, but I'm not very familiar with its quality. Since you're an expert in this area, why don't you help me authenticate it?"

Solly Ross was stunned.

Identifying gold? What the hell is that?

But the other party's tone left him with no thought of resistance, and he could only watch helplessly.

The masked man casually tossed a few items onto the pile of gold bars.

Solly Ross's gaze then fell upon it.

After seeing the whole thing clearly, he almost choked on his breath.

These really are jewelry.

There is a heart-shaped gold pendant engraved with the word "SR", and a pair of small earrings set with small diamonds.

The last one is a small bracelet engraved with "David".

"this!"

Solly Ross turned ashen-faced instantly, his carefully maintained composure crumbling at that moment.

"no no!"

"You've been to my house? What have you done to my family?!"

He roared like a madman, completely ignoring the gun pressed against the back of his head: "Sarah? My Sarah! What have you done to them?"

He was like a mad bear, trying to pounce and grab the masked leader by the collar.

"boom!"

The man behind him slammed the butt of his rifle into his lower back.

Soli screamed and rolled to the ground.

"Help him up," the leader coldly ordered.

Solly was roughly lifted from the ground by two burly men and shoved back into another chair. "Don't be nervous, Mr. Ross."

The masked leader leisurely picked up the heart-shaped pendant and waved it in front of Solly.

“Your family is in a very safe place, and our brothers are taking care of them.”

"Also, by the way, your wife Sarah, she's really beautiful. Especially her blonde hair, it smells so good."

These words directly pierced through Solly Ross's last psychological defenses.

"NO! You beasts! Bastards! What do you want? This is a crime! If anything happens to my family, I swear! I swear I will use all my strength to tear you to pieces!"

The leader's tone was icy: "Hahaha! Are you, Solly Ross, talking to me about crime?"

He casually pulled out a stack of account books.

"Let's talk about your business, Mr. Ross."

The leader read slowly and deliberately: "First, tonight, just an hour ago, you, Solly Ross, sold ten Gatling guns, two hundred Winchester rifles, and one hundred thousand rounds of ammunition to an Irish terrorist organization called the Finnian Brotherhood."

“This is a federal felony, Mr. Ross. Funding terrorists against a government friendly to the United States. For that alone, you can go to the gallows.”

Solly's roar was caught in his throat, turning into rapid panting as he stared at the other person in disbelief.

"Over the past six months, you've smuggled more than 1,500 rifles and 200,000 rounds of ammunition to the Juarez rebels in Mexico through Ross Chemicals. This directly led to the deaths of an Army patrol on the US-Mexico border last month. Guess what Uncle Sam would think if he found out?"

"San Francisco Police Chief. Five hundred dollars a month in consulting fees, transferred from your secret account. What's the purpose? Oh, consulting services. To make him ignore the chemicals you imported from Germany."

"On April 17th last year, your competitor, O'Malley Hardware Store, caught fire late at night. It was a tragedy. But why did your subordinate Bruno take twenty gallons of kerosene from your warehouse the night before the fire?"

"And..." the leader picked up the last sheet of paper: "My personal favorite. Your upcoming morphine project. You plan to use this to control those 40,000 Chinese in Chinatown, right? To turn them into your human gold mine?"

Solly Ross collapsed to the ground, drenched in cold sweat.

He now realized that these people weren't there to rob him at all.

They had investigated him beforehand and were going to threaten him.

"If I hand over these ledgers, these testimonies, along with the filth from your dealings with the Irishmen, to the federal prosecutor, guess what will happen?"

"Your friends? Quinn? Luigi? Callahan?" The chieftain chuckled dismissively. "They'll be the first jackals to rush up and tear you to pieces, just to prove to the government they have nothing to do with you."

"At that time, your factory will be shut down and all your assets will be confiscated."

"And you..."

The leader looked down at him condescendingly: "You will stand on the gallows and, in front of all of San Francisco, perform a dance with your neck stretched out."

Finally, there are your family members whom you care about most.

The leader's voice was very low: "Without your money, without your protection, where will Sarah, David, and your beautiful little daughter Rebecca go? A beautiful, still charming widow, a lovely boy, and a seven-year-old girl."

“They’ll be the most sought-after goods on the Barbary Coast. Or, like I just said, they’ll be sold to Mexico. I’ve heard they’re popular in the silver mines and brothels of Sonora. Those Mexicans don’t know how to be gentle with women.”

"No, no!" Solly sobbed, completely breaking down.

"What on earth are you doing?"

“We don’t want your life, Mr. Ross.” The leader took out several brand-new legal documents and threw them in front of Solly.

“We are legitimate business people.”

Soli picked up the document, trembling.

The first document was an "Agreement on the Transfer of All Assets." All shares, technology patents, land ownership, and other assets of Ross Precision and Ross Chemical were transferred free of charge to White Tiger Holdings, a company he had never heard of and registered in Delaware.

The second document was a two-million-dollar loan agreement. He, Solly Ross, borrowed the money from this company in his personal name. The interest rate was fifty percent, compounded daily.

This is fucking killing him!

Solly suddenly raised his head: "I can't sign! If I sign, you'll still kill us! Then I'll have nothing left!"

"No no no."

The leader shook his finger: "If you sign, you'll have a way to live. We keep our word, and you and your family can leave then. We'll give you a way out."

"I don't believe it! Why should I believe you devils?"

"Sigh, it seems you still don't believe in our sincerity." The masked leader turned towards the door.

"Fine, let's show you our sincerity first."

He clapped his hands lightly twice.

The office door was opened again.

A little boy in white pajamas stood at the door, looking somewhat frightened.

When he saw the disheveled figure in the room, a look of confusion appeared on his little face.

“Dad?”

Solly Ross froze on the spot.

"David?"

"Papa!" The little boy burst into tears, stumbled over, and hugged Solly's leg tightly: "Papa! I'm so scared! It's so dark here! When do we go home?"

Solly Ross couldn't hold on any longer.

He hugged his beloved son tightly and buried his face in the child's curly hair.

The arms dealer who was just moments ago so arrogant was now crying like a child.

"Where's Sarah? Where's your mother? Where's Rebecca? Where are they?"

"Mother and Rebecca are in the carriage."

David sobbed, "A lot of strange uncles came to our house. They said they would take us to a really fun place, and then they took my mom and sister away and told me to come find you."

The masked leader walked over, knelt down, and gently patted David's head.

"This child is so cute. When he grows up, he will definitely be a successful Jewish businessman like you, don't you think?"

Solly looked at him in horror, too afraid to speak.

“My people discovered something very interesting while investigating your background.”

The leader slowly stood up: "I heard that you have a lot of grain business in Hamburg, Germany?"

Solly Ross's heart skipped a beat.

"That might be the best place for your family. America is too dangerous, don't you think? Go back, go back to your homeland."

This is the true meaning of "the real intention is revealed when the map is unrolled."

They not only want to take everything he has in San Francisco, but also want to drive him out of the country.

They spared his business in Germany not out of kindness, but to show him that he still had a way to survive.

A path to survival that they permitted, but which was completely emasculated.

Solly Ross resignedly closed his eyes.

Now, he had completely lost his bargaining power and was left with only one option: to save his life.

Right now, saving the lives of the whole family is the best outcome.

"I sign."

He gritted his teeth and said, "I agree to sign these contracts, but you have to keep your word."

“No problem.” The masked leader regained his gentle tone: “I’ve said it before, we are the most trustworthy.”

The handwriting was distorted, much like the crushed dignity of Solly Ross at that moment.

"Usury Loan Agreement", two million US dollars.

He didn't even have the energy to hate the absurdity of the number.

He numbly wrote that name again on another piece of paper.

Signature and stamp.

This was the death knell he tolled for himself.

(End of this chapter)