Reborn in 1878: America's Number One Bandit

Chapter 31 Dennis's Furious Outburst

Sixty people?
The higher-ups were somewhat shocked.

The Pinkerton Detective Agency operates throughout the United States and carries out hundreds of missions simultaneously.

It has been a long time since so many top-tier elite troops have been deployed at once for a single objective.

Sixty battle-hardened elite soldiers were sent to deal with a group of Irish bandits.

It's like smashing an egg with a battering ram.

Those gangs were no match for Pinkerton's elite.

That damned Irish gang is finished!
……

San Francisco, City Office.

A passionate voice is bewitching you.

"Mr. Member of Parliament! I reiterate! We Irish people are the most loyal and reliable builders of this city and this country! We believe in God, we are hardworking and brave, and we will always cast our votes for the party that can bring us justice!"

The speaker was Dennis Kearney, leader of the California Workers Party.

This guy has excellent oratory skills and is extremely persuasive.

He was an idol to Irish workers in San Francisco.

"But what about the Chinese?"

He said disdainfully, "Those coolies who drag their queues, smoke opium, and worship pagan gods."

What else can they do besides stealing our white jobs with ridiculously low wages?
They are a cancer on society! They are parasites that drag down the level of civilization in America!

The city councilor sitting opposite him, Sullivan, nodded repeatedly, clearly tempted by what he said.

Just as Dennis was preparing to press his advantage and secure more municipal engineering contracts for his fellow Irishmen.

A secretary hurried in and handed two newly received telegrams to Congressman Sullivan.

Sullivan's face darkened immediately after reading the telegram.

He looked up and scrutinized Dennis again.

“Mr. Kearney.”

His tone turned cold: "I think our conversation can end here. You should go back now."

"what?"

Dennis looked bewildered.

What the fuck is going on?

Everything was fine just now, wasn't it?
Success is within reach!
He left the city hall, full of resentment, and stopped the secretary who was delivering the telegram in the corridor.

"Hey buddy, tell me, what exactly did those two telegrams say?"

The secretary gave him a sympathetic look: "Mr. Kearney, I advise you to keep a low profile for now."

He leaned close to Dennis's ear and whispered quickly, "Something big has happened on the North Shore of California."

A lawless Irish gang is committing murder and arson everywhere.

They committed murder at railroad construction sites to collect compensation, blew up the railroad company's payroll trains, killed Pinkerton detectives, and even...

They hanged the entire town's mayor, councilors, and sheriff from a streetlamp!

"Tell me, at this critical juncture, you still come here to boast to the members of parliament about how 'loyal and reliable' you Irish people are? Isn't that just swallowing your own phlegm?"

Dennis Kearney was dumbfounded.

It took him a full half minute to react, his face turning a deep purplish-red, and he trembled with rage.

"SON OF A BITCH!!!"

A roar of impotent rage echoed through the city hall corridor.

"These incompetent fools are good for nothing but causing trouble! A bunch of country bumpkins who only know how to solve problems with violence!"

He angrily cursed his compatriots who were holding him back.

"FUCK! I'm working so hard to fight for everyone's rights, and you bunch of bastards are stabbing me in the back!"
"So disunited, so brainless, how the hell are they trying to kick those Chinese out of California?"

As dawn broke, Lawson woke up.

The bed in my new home is very comfortable.

But his boundless energy prevented him from oversleeping. He felt like a young bull, brimming with energy.

He walked to the dining table shirtless, wearing only a pair of work pants.

Breakfast is already being prepared for him.

The mother and daughter served him like he was a lord.

Lawson got used to it.

Lucy peeked out from the kitchen.

"Good morning, Mr. Lawson. My mother went to town to buy some things. The eggs will be ready in a little while."

"Thank you, Lucy, you look beautiful again today."

The butter sizzled in the iron pot as twenty eggs were cracked in.

It quickly solidified into a large, golden scrambled egg.

In the pan next to it, a pound thick-cut steak was seared to perfection, crispy on the outside and pink on the inside.

Add a few boiled potatoes and three apples.

This is enough food for an average family for a day.

In less than fifteen minutes, Lawson swept everything away in a whirlwind.

After finishing his meal, he didn't stop and went straight to the woodpile in the yard.

While he was enjoying his breakfast, his daily "assassin" had already been quietly formed. [Daily refresh quota: 29/29]

He is still of Irish descent.

He threw 29 assassins directly into the wilderness east of Sonoma County.

Weapons and horses were also delivered to them through channels as soon as possible.

Six more people were transferred in.

Thus, a gang of thirty-five men was formed.

Lawson gave the new team a new name—

Please help.

By this point, Lawson had four fully-staffed Irish gangs under his command.

"Wolf pack", "Hyena", "Slutty dog", "Quick help".

Each team consists of 35 people, totaling 140 professional bandits.

They were men whose physiques were far more robust than those of ordinary people.

Lawson is currently level 7. The assassins he encounters daily have stamina values ​​that randomly range from 1.1 to 1.7 times that of a normal adult male.

This value represents the body's physical strength.

Higher physical strength means greater power, faster speed, and more terrifying endurance.

The refresh rate of the highest value of 1.7 times is not low; at least one-third of the members in the four gangs are like this.

These guys are strong, agile, and have been instilled with combat skills.

It is no exaggeration to say that the individual physical abilities of the four gangs under Lawson's command surpass those of any elite squad in the world today.

As for combat skills, discipline, and courage, that goes without saying.

They are absolutely loyal war machines.

Even if Lawson ordered them all to draw their guns and commit suicide right now, they wouldn't hesitate for even a second.

"Four bandit gangs, one hundred and forty desperate men..."

As Lawson pondered this, he picked up the heavy wood-chopping axe beside him: "That's enough to give the Pinkerton Detective Agency a run for their money."

This vast land in Northern California is now his home turf.

The Pinkerton agents had no idea that the bartenders they used to gather information at the tavern and the grooms they used to change horses at the post station might all be Lawson's eyes and ears.

Lawson swung his axe, aiming at a huge wooden stake with a diameter of over forty centimeters.

Engage your core muscles, and your arm muscles will instantly tense up.

"Crack!"

He cleaved the hardwood stake in two with a single axe stroke.

Lawson looked at his masterpiece and nodded in satisfaction.

His physique is also getting stronger and stronger.

His terrifyingly powerful digestive system acted like a highly efficient converter, continuously transforming the food he swallowed each day into nutrients for his body.

Lawson estimated that at this rate, by the end of the month, his weight would have increased dramatically from less than 100 pounds when he first transmigrated to 160 pounds.

Gaining over 60 pounds of muscle in a month sounds quite exaggerated.

Even if fitness enthusiasts in later generations use protein powder or performance-enhancing drugs, it would be difficult to achieve this in a short period of time.

This is thanks to his powerful digestive system and his extravagant high-calorie diet.

Every day, they eat either top-quality beef or nutritious venison and bear meat.

Most people would have felt nauseous from the smell of meat, but Lawson found it alright.

Just as he was about to chop another piece of wood to stretch his muscles...

The sound of a horse-drawn carriage approached from afar.

Lawson stopped what he was doing and turned his head.

Mrs. Marlene hurriedly drove her carriage into the farm.

She even stumbled and nearly fell when she jumped out of the car because her legs were weak.

Today she wore a fitted light blue dress that perfectly accentuated her voluptuous figure.

At this moment, her beautiful face was completely devoid of color.

"Lorson! Lawson!"

She stumbled and ran to Lawson, lifting her skirt.

"What is it, Mrs. Marlene? Speak slowly, don't rush me."

Lawson put down the axe and supported her trembling waist.

"Something terrible has happened in Strawberry Town!"

She took a few deep breaths before she could finally speak fluently.

"Just yesterday afternoon, a gang of Irish thugs attacked the town! They hanged the mayor and Councilor Henderson."

Lawson was somewhat skeptical: "Murder in broad daylight, in the town?"

"This is real."

Marlene continued, "Even Sheriff Barnes was hanged!"

After hearing this, Lawson was shocked.

"My God, have these Irish bandits gone mad? This is terrifying!"

(End of this chapter)