Reborn in 1878: America's Number One Bandit

Chapter 87 Business Spreads Everywhere

"enough!"

Irving rubbed his throbbing temples: "Sharp, we're not considering canceling anyone's voting rights for now! The U.S. Constitution isn't just a piece of paper!"

"but!"

Irving then changed the subject: "Patrick, your Irish community also owes me an explanation! The Dennis Kearney scandal, and the San Rafael massacre! Californians need to feel safe!"

"I hereby declare, effective immediately, that crime control in all Irish-majority areas will be strengthened! Any Irish person, and I mean any!"

Once convicted of a violent felony, upon completion of sentence, you will be immediately deported from California! Never to set foot in California again!

O'Malley opened his mouth, then slumped back into his chair in despair.

This is the best result he could achieve.

"Next topic."

Irving sat down: "The National Guard, because of Buck's stupidity, has lost a third of our forces! I propose emergency funding to expand by three regiments. We must replenish our forces..."

"be opposed to!"

Sharp immediately stepped forward.

“Governor, California’s treasury is not your private coffers. That good-for-nothing Buck has squandered all the money and his man. Why should we give you more money so you can support even more good-for-nothings?”

"Sharp, you're weakening California's defense!"

"I'm protecting taxpayers' wallets!"

Sharp stood firm: "The legislature's opinion is clear. We can approve some money, but only to replenish the battalion that Buck lost. The California National Guard will remain at its current strength of 1500. Not a single soldier more!"

"What about the security gaps?"

Irving growled, "Northern California is a powder keg! Who's going to fill it?"

"mercenary!"

Sharp said casually, "Just like we've done before. Although those Pinkerton bastards were more despicable than French prostitutes this time in San Rafael, we might as well give this new team a try, White Tiger Security."

“They seem very efficient, and using contract workers is much cheaper than maintaining a large, money-burning standing army.”

“I will personally write to Chicago and demand an explanation from Alan Pinkerton for his withdrawal!”

Irving, his face ashen, suppressed the topic as well.

He thought for a moment and then offered one last suggestion.

"Gentlemen, since the Irish are so unstable, perhaps we really should bring in more Chinese."

"what?"

"Governor, are you insane?!"

The council chamber immediately erupted in chaos.

O'Malley, who had just been defending the Irish, now stood directly on Sharp's side.

"Don't you think the conflicts in California are sharp enough? How many of our white brothers are out of work on the San Francisco docks right now! Do you want those yellow-skinned monkeys with queues to come and continue to steal their jobs?"

"That's right! Governor, this proposal is absurd!"

"Let me finish!" Irving roared.

Davis, a congressman who had been silent all along, cleared his throat.

"Guys, guys! Calm down, Patrick. You might not know the latest news yet."

"what news?"

Davis slowly pulled out a report: "Do you think the Chinese are still taking jobs from the railroads and mines? You're wrong."

Now, the Southern Pacific Railroad Company and the major mines are all struggling to recruit workers; all the Chinese laborers have run away!

"Ran?"

Sharp was also stunned: "Where did they go? What else could they do besides building railroads and mining?"

"farm."

Davis uttered a single word.

"In recent months, the Land Administration Bureau has been doing exceptionally well, with a large number of new British immigrants applying for land under the Homestead Act. Strawberry, Sonoma County, and other places are full of newly established farms. And the Chinese laborers who left the construction sites have been hired by these new farm owners, and I heard that they are paid the same wages as white people."

……

The political storm in Sacramento was nothing more than a few boring lines of print in the newspaper for Lawson of Strawberry.

A true hunter never cares whether the flock needs a meeting or discussion before being slaughtered.

At this moment, the map of Northern California is being remeasured under the iron heel of White Tiger Security Company!

The heroic deeds of Saint Raphael have become the best advertisement for the White Tiger Company.

This advertisement was far more effective than any newspaper's boast, because it was endorsed by more than thirty grotesque heads and a perfect drama of divine intervention.

Business is booming.

In Lawson's study, the map of Northern California was already covered with small red flags representing potential clients.

Gambonini Mercury Mine, Bella Union Mine, Sulphurbank Mine...

These caves, flowing with mercury and gold, are the dirty blood of industry, but also the most tempting fat.

Sonoma Lumber Company and Tyron Sawmill, those redwoods that often require more than a dozen people to encircle, each falling meant the construction of a New York mansion.

And those wineries.

Bottles of wine with exquisite labels generate more stable profits than robbing a bank.

Finally, there are those vast ranches.

Lawson's gaze fell on a sprawling manor on the map.

Reading Ranch.

And Ethan, the assassin, also sent back some good news not long ago.

"Abigail Redding has completely surrendered and is currently in a state of extreme love-struck. She has even taken the initiative to propose eloping and is willing to steal the family land deed as proof of her love."

Lawson couldn't help but shake his head and smile.

To be honest, the power of being blinded by love is truly formidable.

Abigail Redding, nineteen years old, is the only youngest daughter of the Redding family and the apple of old Silas's eye.

Ethan, the top-tier specialized assassin under Lawson's command.

His face, which resembles a young Leonardo DiCaprio, combined with the romantic poet and melancholic artist temperament bestowed upon him by the system, is the ultimate weapon to conquer any love-struck fool.

After that perfect encounter at a pottery shop in Sonoma County.

Ethan, disguised as a talented but impoverished cowboy artist, managed to completely seduce the rich young lady in just three days.

They were completely conquered, inside and out.

“In that case, Abigail’s father and her three foolish brothers should also be on their way.”

A complete "extermination plan" version 2.0 has been established, and the loop is now closed.

First, Ethan captures Abigail; second, the ruthless bandits wipe out the entire family, leaving only the heartbroken sole heir, Abigail.

Finally, Ethan married Abigail, and as her legal husband, he took over the Reading family's 10,000 acres of land, as well as the water rights to the Russian River, which monopolized the upstream water source!
However, the necessary procedures still need to be followed before that.

Before their demise, the Reading family had to make one last contribution by adding fuel to the fire of White Tiger Security Company's business expansion.

After all, the best advertisements in the world are always lessons learned in blood!
"Saving a little money can lead to a big disaster!"

"Look at that poor Reading family, they were wiped out by the Irish gang just because they wouldn't hire White Tiger Security! They deserved it!"

"Go ahead,"

He instructed Ah Bao, "Have Adams and Marco make a trip to Reading Ranch. Tell them to bring out the best service; we're respectable businessmen."

……

Two days later, at Reading Ranch.

Ten thousand acres of land, as vast as a small kingdom.

They forcibly enclosed the most fertile section of the Russian River tributary into their territory, nourishing tens of thousands of fat Hereford cattle.

Adams and Marco, two of Lawson's most eloquent assassins, were riding towards the main house of the manor.

Both men were wearing brand-new black suits, and their boots were so shiny that even the reflection of their stirrups was clearly visible.

They didn't look like security personnel; they looked more like bankers from Wall Street.

"My God, look!"

Marco whistled softly, but his gaze swept past the fat cattle and landed on the landmark at the entrance of the manor.

It was a pyramid made of skulls.

At the bottom are the skulls of bison, elk, and grizzly bears, huge and ferocious.

At the very top were at least forty or fifty human skulls.

That's an Indian head.

It was the legacy of the old Silas Redding's massacre of the local Pomeranian tribe when he pioneered this land.

This is the coat of arms of the Reading family, and also the most savage weapon to deter villains.

"Silas Redding".

Adams stared coldly at the monument: "An old bastard who made his fortune by slaughtering natives, does he think this pile of bones can scare everyone?"

"Maybe."

Marco smiled. "But it won't scare the hyenas."

The two reined in their horses in front of the main house, where a burly cowboy blocked their way.

"Who are you? Don't you know that people who sell Bibles are not welcome here?"

"Good day, sir."

Adams removed his top hat: "We are business representatives from White Tiger Security. We are honored to have an appointment to visit Mr. Silas Redding."

The cowboy looked them up and down suspiciously.

"White Tigers? You mean the group in the newspaper?"

"Yes, the hero who saved Saint Raphael in the newspaper, sir."

Adams smiled and casually slipped a five-dollar eagle into his hand.

The cowboy weighed it in his hand, and his expression softened a little.

"Hmph, a hero? Fine. Wait here, I'll go inform the boss."

Five minutes later, the two were taken to the shooting range in the backyard of the manor.

"Bang! Bang! Bang!"

Gunfire continued incessantly here.

There stood an old man, six feet five inches tall and with a physique so robust he could kill a bull with a single punch, holding a custom-made Winchester rifle and squinting.

Beside him, his three equally tall and strong sons were taking turns tossing bottles of whiskey into the air.

The old man remained motionless, and with each gunshot, a bottle of whiskey exploded in mid-air.

He is Silas Redding.

"boom!"

With his last shot, he didn't even bother to aim. He turned around and fired a shot with his backhand, smashing the bottle that had been thrown behind him into the air!
"Roar!"

He roared with delight and casually tossed the scalding hot rifle to his son.

"You played pretty well today."

He grabbed a towel and wiped the sweat from his neck, his fierce eyes sweeping over Adams and Marco.

"Are you the white tigers?"

"Those Chinese guys in the newspapers dare to call themselves tigers?"

His three sons also burst into laughter.

Adams maintained his smile: "Mr. Reading, thank you for taking the time. We're here to discuss the security business with you."

"Safety?"

Silas shook his head and chuckled: "You fucking talk to me about security on this land? Do you think I'm one of those scared sissies in St. Raphael?"

“Of course not, sir. Your reputation can be heard throughout Sacramento.”

Marco continued, "That's precisely why your businesses and family are the most coveted targets for those outlaws. Especially now, with Irish gangsters roaming around like mad dogs."

"The Irish?"

Silas scoffed: "A bunch of trash who only know how to drink cheap liquor and fight in taverns. Let them come! I'll kill as many as they come!"

“We understand your confidence, sir.”

Adams seized the opportunity to open his briefcase and take out a business manual.

"But what White Tiger Security provides is not just simple confidence, but systematic protection. We currently offer three service packages for our valued clients in Northern California."

Silas waved his hand impatiently, but his second son took it with a curious look on his face.

"Bronze Guardian".

Adams officially began his pitch: "300 eagle dollars a month. We will set up a two-man, 24-hour outpost at the entrance to your estate. Equipped with signal rockets."

In the event of an attack, the White Tiger's rapid response force in Sonoma County will arrive to provide support within two hours.

"That's utter garbage!"

Silas spat out a mouthful of saliva: "Two hours? By then it'll be too late!"

"Therefore, we recommend that you consider the Silver Barrier."

Marco smiled and said, “2000 eagles per month. We will send a ten-man elite squad to be permanently stationed in your territory. We will install a telegraph early warning system covering the entire territory. Furthermore, the arrival time of rapid reaction forces will be reduced to thirty minutes!”

Silas' eldest son sneered, "The three of us brothers can blow the intruder's balls to smithereens in three minutes!"

"So……"

Adams then unveiled the final solution.

"Golden Tiger Package. Sir, this package is prepared for leaders like yourself who stand at the top."

"The price still needs to be discussed further."

"The service includes a full-strength 36-man White Tiger Commando team, equipped with Gatling guns, permanently stationed there."

“We will take over the entire defense of your estate, from intelligence gathering and infiltration to counter-hunting. We will proactively eliminate any potential threat to you within a 50-mile radius.”

“We will guarantee, Mr. Redding, that your territory will become an absolutely safe zone in California. From now on, you can rest easy!”

"Hahahaha... Hahahaha!"

After a moment of silence, Silas suddenly burst into laughter!
"sit back and relax?"

Silas abruptly stopped laughing: "Who the hell do you think you are? Protect me? With that bunch of yellow-skinned monkeys?"

He snatched the Winchester from his son's hand and slammed it heavily onto the table, the butt of the gun creating a deep dent in the thick oak surface.

(End of this chapter)