Outnumbered? I'll conquer America with an unlimited number of suicide soldiers.

Chapter 152 Trip to Mexico

Mexico City, Mexico.

This city, one of the oldest in the Americas, is now in the midst of violent upheaval.

Although Santa Ana, the dictator who had ruled Mexico for decades, was overthrown in the August Revolution and fled north in panic, this did not mean the end of the turmoil.

The conservatives, representing large landowners, the church, and the military leadership, and the liberals, representing the bourgeoisie and lower-class peasants, began to clash after a brief alliance due to their differing interests.

It was under these circumstances that Dutch and his group arrived in Mexico City.

"It seems that a civil war in Mexico is just around the corner."

Inside a luxurious bathhouse, steam rose and mist filled the air. Dutch immersed two-thirds of his body in the steaming hot spring, his arms resting on the edge of the pool, and let out a comfortable sigh.

"What do you mean? Did Dutch read it in the Mexican newspaper?"

Arthur and John, standing to the side, had only their heads above water, looking like two hippos floating on the surface.

Dutch laughed and said, "There's no need to read the newspaper; the atmosphere on the street says it all."

"After we entered the city, we could hear people arguing and insulting each other on every street we passed, and fights happened frequently. But from beginning to end, I didn't see a single policeman do anything about it."

"A torn society, a dysfunctional government—I don't need to say what will happen next."

clap clap clap!

A round of applause suddenly rang out from not far away, and a robust old man walked over and said in English, "Mr. Dutch's eyes are indeed sharp; he saw the problem in Mexico at a glance."

"Mr. José."

Dutch looked at the man and laughed, "You were the one who invited us here to discuss business, yet you arrived so late. Isn't that a bit unreasonable?"

Jose entered the bath and faced Dutch: "Oh, my dear Dutch, you must forgive an old man who is already fifty years old. Slow movements are normal at my age."

Dutch squinted at Jose's strong physique; he didn't look like a slow-moving old man at all.

But he didn't expose him, only chuckled: "Of course, of course. So, Mr. José, can you make the decision regarding the matter I discussed with you earlier?"

Jose nodded and said, "Five thousand pounds of sulfur is a large amount, but I've been in this business for so many years, I can still manage to scrape together the money. However, Mr. Dutch, the price needs to be raised."

"How much will it increase?"

"The price has increased from 2.5 pesos to 3.5 pesos per 100 pounds."

Jose said, "You've seen the state of Mexico City right now. The streets are in complete chaos. Transporting goods from outside the city into the city costs several times more just to smooth things over at the checkpoints. This price is really not expensive."

"no problem."

Dutch readily agreed, saying, "As long as you can deliver the goods to me within two days, I will buy them at this price!"

""

"If this cooperation goes well, I will still do business with you, Mr. José, for the next round of sulfur purchases."

They urgently need sulfur in Lingxi. As long as we can get the goods, we'll raise the price if necessary.

Besides, it only costs an extra fifty pesos per batch, which is fifty US dollars, a sum that Datch doesn't even care about.

"Mr. Dutch, that's great!"

A glint of light flashed in José's eyes, and he smiled, extending his hand: "Then, it'll be a pleasure cooperating with you!"

the next day.

"What do you mean our goods have been seized?"

Inside the coffee shop next to Constitution Square, Dutch squinted, barely containing his anger as he looked at José across the street. "I've already paid the deposit, and now you're telling me the goods are gone?"

José pulled out a handkerchief to wipe the sweat from his forehead: "Mr. Dutch, nobody wanted this. Manuel Paino, do you know him? The city garrison commander."

His men arrived early in the morning and seized the goods, claiming that sulfur was a war contraband, and then they took it all away.

"War contraband?"

Dutch put his coffee cup on the saucer, his face grim. "When did sulfur become a contraband? I'm buying minerals, not weapons."

"Paino said that these are special times, and sulfur can be used to make gunpowder, so it is considered a contraband."

José lowered his voice and said, "I've inquired. Paino doesn't really want to confiscate it; he just wants money. Hand over three hundred pesos, and the goods will be released."

Three hundred pesos.

Dutch repeated the number and sneered, "A city garrison commander sent his troops to rob my sulfur, and then made me pay three hundred pesos to ransom it back."

Mr. José, your Mexican revolution overthrew the biggest dictator, but the corrupt officials below seem to be still unharmed.

""

José smiled but did not reply.

Dutch is a foreigner, so he can say whatever he wants, and then just walk away. Nobody can do anything about it.

But José is a local, with a family and businesses tied to this land. Some things are easy to say but hard to take back.

Dutch glanced at him and didn't press him further: "Alright, Mr. Jose. You can go back now. I need to think about this."

José nodded, picked up his hat, and left the coffee shop. As his figure disappeared around the corner, Dutch's smile gradually faded.

"John."

"Hmm." A deep reply came from the corner.

"Go and find out about Paino's background, how many men he has, where he is stationed, and where he usually stores the confiscated items."

I need to know before dark.

"Understood, Dutch."

John stood up from the corner, pushed open the coffee shop door, and walked into the noisy crowd outside, quickly disappearing from sight.

Dutch then turned to Arthur: "How's the situation with Hosea?"

Arthur said, "We talked about it yesterday, and there are no problems on his end. The war in Zacatecas just ended, and there's so much lead piling up outside the mines that nobody wants it. The price is very low, and we should be able to collect enough in another two or three days."

"Hosea is doing great, but we're being slaughtered like pigs."

Dutch rubbed his temples, amused and annoyed: "I originally planned to handle this acquisition smoothly. Who would have thought that these sons of bitches would insist on rushing to their deaths?"

"Arthur, go back to the inn and gather the men. Check the guns, sharpen the knives, we'll go get them tonight!"

As night falls, the streets of Mexico City become even noisier than during the day.

Singing and drunken howls drifted from the tavern, while the tortilla vendors on the street continued their calls.

Inside the hotel, John returned with the intelligence he had gathered. "We've found out. Paino's troops are stationed in an old colonial-era barracks in the south of the city, formerly a Spanish cavalry barracks."

John said, "There are six barracks in the camp, with a full complement of sixty or seventy men. There are sentries at the entrances. Sulfur and a batch of supplies seized from other merchants are piled up in the supply warehouse behind the camp."

"With so few people, how dare you be so arrogant?"

Dutch loaded the bullets into his revolver one by one, grinning maliciously, "Let's get the goods back first, then we'll have a proper talk with that bastard Manuel Paino!"