Reborn in 1878: America's Number One Bandit

Chapter 7 Blood Debt and Bounty
Inside the sheriff's office in Strawberry Town.

Sheriff Barnes was frowning as he stared at a charcoal sketch on the table.

The painting depicts a red-haired man with a face full of scars.

He had fierce eyes and a scar on his face.

"Are you sure he looks like that?" Barnes asked, his cigar dangling from his lips, his words muffled.

Across from the desk.

Farmer Coleman Parker’s large body was sunk into a creaking chair.

His left leg was in a thick cast and bandages, propped up high on another stool.

"I'm sure! I swear!"

Parker brandished his cane, cursing viciously: "That bastard! He led the way into my bedroom and blew my forehead out with my gun!"
And his accomplices, a bunch of Irish pigs who deserve to go to hell!

They broke my leg!
"It broke, Barnes!"

He spat everywhere.

"They stole all my cash and bonds, and my sixteen best Quarter Horses!"

Barnes, you have to catch them!
I want to see them hanged on the gallows at the entrance of town with my own eyes!
Not one can be left behind!

Barnes waved his hand impatiently.

“Calm down, Mr. Parker. We’re doing our best.”

He picked up the portrait and handed it to his deputy: "Take this and ask around in town and at the nearby logging camps and mines."

Especially in areas where Irish people congregate, check each area one by one to see if anyone has seen this group before.

The deputy took the portrait and quickly left.

Parker persisted, pounding the floor with his cane: "Trying my best? I don't want trying my best, I want results! I want their lives! Do you hear me? I want their lives!"

Barnes exhaled a puff of smoke.

“We will do our best, Mr. Parker. Now, I suggest you go home and recover from your injury.”

Meanwhile, at Marlene O'Dell's farm.

Lawson was lying on a haystack in the yard.

He was wearing a wide-brimmed straw hat over his face, enjoying the warm sunshine.

A gentle breeze carries the fragrance of grass and earth.

In the distance, the faint sound of Marlene humming a song as she worked in the field drifted over, along with the sounds of Lucy and her chicks playing.

Everything seemed so peaceful.

In the unknown spiritual world, information constantly flows into Lawson's sea of ​​consciousness.

He reviewed every piece of intelligence from the front lines.

In Strawberry Town, at the always noisy "Wild Horse" tavern, a suicidal assassin disguised as a bartender delivers a crucial message.

The six Irish railway workers who killed Ah Gou were regulars here.

Every evening after work, they would come here without fail to drink and boast until they were completely drunk.

The bartender had already figured out exactly what these six people looked like, their names, and even some of their daily habits.

Lawson's lips curled slightly under his straw hat.

Revenge is necessary, of course.

Simply killing them would be too cheap.

For Lawson, anything of value should be used to its fullest potential.

Even if it's just a rock, you have to find a way to squeeze out some oil from it.

He quickly came up with a new plan.

The consciousness instantly connected through the core to Johnny, the assassin who was digging in the wilderness.

Johnny.

“Boss.” Johnny, who was wielding a shovel, paused and responded respectfully.

"You and your four brothers no longer need to dig in the dirt."

Lawson gave the order: "At dusk, you will go to the Wild Horse Tavern in Strawberry Town. Your identities will be newly unemployed Irish drifters looking for work."

Once inside, he drank, and then tried to get in touch with the six railway workers.

"Understood, Boss."

After dealing with this matter, Lawson began to take stock of his assets.

The three British assassins who were sent out to purchase weapons have returned.

Following Lawson's instructions, they purchased the necessary weapons from different gun shops in three different towns, posing as wandering hunters.

This will minimize the chance of arousing suspicion.

A very fruitful haul. Twenty brand-new Winchester M1873 lever-action rifles.

Each one costs 15 Hong Kong dollars.

There are also twenty Colt revolvers, the classic single-action revolver.

Each one costs 12 silver dollars.

In addition, there were large quantities of bullets, gun oil, cleaning tools, and some daily necessities such as tents, blankets, and cookware.

It cost nearly six hundred silver dollars in total.

Now, Lawson has less than three hundred dollars in cash left.

It's enough for daily operations and expenses for now.

The band of eleven Irish assassins had now completed their armed upgrade.

They hid in a secluded valley dozens of miles away, each equipped with two guns, one long and one short, with their belts loaded with gleaming yellow bullets.

A well-equipped and absolutely obedient violent armed force has begun to take shape.

Right now, they are continuing to dig.

They dig in the soil during the day and stand by at night, ready to transform into hungry wolves in the darkness at any time.

The British assassins also brought back another interesting piece of news.

In Wildfire, a town about 100 miles away, a horrific case has recently occurred.

After visiting prostitutes, the two cowboys brutally murdered two of them.

The town's sheriff turned a blind eye to the matter.

This enraged all the prostitutes in Wildfire.

They pooled together a thousand dollars and offered a bounty for the lives of the two cowboys.

A reward of one thousand US dollars is a huge sum of money that bounty hunters who walk the line between the law and reality are willing to take risks.

It is said that a number of assassins and gunmen, having caught wind of the situation, are gathering in Wildfire Town.

"One thousand dollars..."

Lawson silently calculated in his mind.

This might be a good opportunity.

What he cared about most was the three assassins who had gone to San Francisco.

They had now arrived at Tiberon Marina, north of Sosalito.

Across the azure bay of the Kinmen Strait, the outline of the bustling city on the other side is already visible in the distance.

That's San Francisco.

In 1878, the population of the entire state of California was less than 800,000.

San Francisco alone has a population of over 200,000.

This is undoubtedly the financial, economic, and shipping center of the West Coast.

Countless riches, opportunities, and sins have flourished wildly in this city nestled between mountains and the sea.

Lawson needs 7.2 tons of zinc.

It's simply impossible to buy it in Marin County.

But in San Francisco, if you have money, it's not difficult to buy anything, not just zinc, but even a cannon.

"almost."

A glimmer of hope rose in Lawson's heart.

Once the core is upgraded to level 6, the number of assassins that can be refreshed daily will reach 18.

His expansion of power will accelerate once again.

at this time.

There was a sound of brisk footsteps.

"Mr. Lawson."

It's Lucy.

She was holding two bright red apples that she had just picked from the tree.

Lawson took off his straw hat and sat up.

Lucy handed over one of the shiny apples: "Try it, Mom says this year's apples are especially sweet."

Lawson took the apple.

He took a bite; it tasted sweet and was bursting with juice.

(End of this chapter)