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

Chapter 153 You don't know you're wrong, you just know you're going to die.

South of Mexico City, a city garrison barracks.

The barracks' perimeter wall, built during the colonial era, is about two meters high, constructed of thick bluestone, and extremely sturdy. The main gate is an iron gate, behind which stand two sentries carrying oil lamps.

"How long until your shift changes?"

The sentry on the left yawned, slung his musket over his shoulder, and complained, "I've been standing here since this morning and haven't eaten anything. I'm starving."

The sentry on the right leaned against the stone wall, also looking half-awake, his eyelids drooping: "It's already dark, the cathedral bells should be ringing soon—it'll be soon."

Boom!Boom!Boom!

Suddenly, heavy bells rang out from the distant church.

boom!boom!

Outside the fence, the crisp sound of revolvers rang out simultaneously.

The two bodies fell to the ground with a thud. Arthur and John emerged from the shadows, each on one side, and together they pushed open the heavy iron gate.

Upon entering the military camp, the first thing that catches the eye is a wide sandy square. To the left of the square is the stable, and to the right are six barracks.

"The warehouse is behind the barracks. Judging from the noise, the people inside are still awake."

Dutch looked toward the barracks, which were brightly lit and filled with noise, clearly unaware of their arrival.

"Quickly finish this, and remember to leave a few survivors!"

"no problem."

Arthur and John exchanged a glance, grinned, and strode toward the barracks.

From a distance of thirty or forty meters, they pulled grenades from their waists, removed the bottom pins, and hurled them forcefully. The grenades flew in an arc, smashing through a window and landing inside a barracks, shattering glass onto the floor.

"What was thrown in?"

A brown-skinned soldier playing rummy looked up, staring blankly at the ground. There lay two long, thin objects, hissing white smoke.

"I don't know—"

Boom! Boom!

Before the words were even finished, two grenades exploded with a deafening roar inside the barracks. Flames shot out from the windows and doorways, shrapnel swept across the area, and screams of agony filled the air.

Before the smoke had cleared and the soldiers in the other four barracks had time to react, several more explosions rang out, the booming sounds echoing through the night and causing the horses in the stables to neigh incessantly.

Dutch strode across the square and said, "Arthur, take your men and subdue the people in the last barracks. Find out where that piece of shit named Paino is."

"Charles, go check those five barracks to see if there are any survivors. If there are, kill them."

"John, come with me to the warehouse and confirm the location of the goods."

"yes!"

The group split into three teams and quickly dispersed.

The supply warehouse was located at the very back of the camp. It was a large, independent brick building with a wooden door and an iron lock.

John drew his hunting knife from behind his waist, his muscles tensed, and slashed down!

The iron lock snapped and fell to the ground with a crisp sound. The door was pushed open, and a strong smell of rotten eggs, characteristic of sulfur, hit the door, making one wrinkle their nose.

Dutch raised the oil lamp, its dim light illuminating the scene inside the warehouse.

A row of burlap sacks was piled against the wall, with the word "SULFUR" painted on them in white paint.

That was the five thousand pounds of sulfur that Dutch and Jose had obtained.

Next to it were dozens more bags of sulfur, also marked, stacked up against half a wall. Opposite the sulfur was a row of wooden crates. John walked over and pried one open; inside was grayish-white saltpeter, with uniform granules and a good quality.

"How many people's goods did they steal?"

Dutch's gaze swept over the pile of sulfur and saltpeter. "The total weight of the sulfur and saltpeter here should be over ten thousand pounds."

"That's perfect, it's a bargain for us." John whistled. "Report to my lord, and send those four and a half tons of sulfur and saltpeter back."

Daqi nodded and began contacting Zeng Tai.

Soon, the air in the center of the warehouse distorted, a flash of light appeared, and the pile of sacks and wooden crates disappeared, leaving only a few marks on the floor.

Arthur walked into the warehouse at that moment. He shook the blood off his hands and said, "We found out. That bastard isn't here. He's at his villa."

South of the city, San Angel.

The cobblestone path was neatly paved, and the gray and white stone walls on both sides were covered with lush flowers and trees.

Most of the houses here are in the Baroque style, with thick walls, narrow windows, and carved exteriors. The entrance arches are grand and imposing. In the study on the second floor of one of the houses, candlelight is burning brightly and the curtains are drawn tightly.

Manuel Paino sat behind a mahogany desk, on which sat a bottle of Spanish sherry imported from the port of Veracruz.

On the desk lay a list written in pencil, detailing the goods and their value that had been seized over the past two weeks. The numbers were impressive, so impressive that they made him feel exceptionally good tonight.

Frey Thomas Trading Company: Goods valued at 300 pesos, payment of 120 pesos; Soto Brotherhood: Goods valued at 500 pesos, payment of 200 pesos; Mendoza Trading Company: Goods valued at 200 pesos, payment of 70 pesos —

In just half a month, his income exceeded two thousand pesos.

He poured himself a glass of wine, looked up at the desk, and said, "Jose, you did a good job."

If it weren't for the idea from the person on the other end, he really wouldn't have thought of using the guise of controlling contraband to collect money. It would be perfectly legitimate, and he wouldn't have to share any with his superiors.

Jose forced a smile and bowed slightly: "It's all thanks to you, Commander. I only provided a little help, it's nothing."

Paino picked up his glass, took a sip, and asked, "I heard that some people don't want to pay, is that right?"

Jose nodded: "Yes, the sulfur purchased by the Zaragoza Trading Company has been stuck in the warehouse for almost half a month. They are taking a hard line, saying they are unwilling to pay and that they will go to the newspapers to expose and complain about the city's garrison."

"In addition, there's a stranger named Dutch who, after hearing that the goods were seized, also seemed reluctant to pay. I probed his intentions, but he didn't show any signs of softening."

"Complain about us?"

Paino laughed heartily, with an undisguised arrogance: "This is Mexico City, my territory, and my rules apply here."

"Morales!"

"exist."

At the doorway of the study, a burly guard stepped forward, approached the desk, and stood with his hands at his sides: "Sir, what are your orders?"

Paino leaned back in his chair, speaking casually: "Tomorrow, take a team and arrest all the people from the Zaragoza Trading Company. Under the pretext of capturing the remnants of the Santa Ana Party, we'll treat them well for a few days!"

He paused, then said, "Arrest that guy named Daqi too. He's a rich foreigner; why not take advantage of such a fat sheep that's delivered to our doorstep?"

Morales nodded and said, "Yes, I will give the order tomorrow morning."

Jose, beaming, cupped his hands and said, "Commander, you're brilliant! This is a classic case of killing the chicken to scare the monkey. From now on, all those merchants will be obediently handing over their money."

Paino, feeling smug, downed the wine in his glass in one gulp. Just as he was about to say something, he suddenly heard a gunshot outside.

boom!

Paino's expression changed, and without hesitation, he drew the revolver from his waist, then ducked down and squeezed under the desk.

Morales, on the other hand, took three steps at a time and quickly walked to the window, pulled back a corner of the curtain, and looked down.

In the garden, the guards he had stationed there were already lying on the ground, and seven dark figures were quickly moving through the garden toward the main building.

"Morales, how many people are there?"

Morales replied, "Sir, I've only seen seven so far, but there could be others outside the manor."

"It must be them, the liberals!"

Hearing that there weren't many people, Paino came out from under the desk, gritting his teeth, and said, "These bastards, I haven't even gone to find them yet, and they've already come knocking on my door."

"Morales, gather the men! Call everyone who can carry a gun and send them to the garden to block them! I'll make sure these bastards don't leave alive!"

The two quickly went downstairs. José watched them leave, gritted his teeth, and followed them downstairs.

Regardless, Paino has men and guns, so staying by his side is better than running around on your own.

As he walked, he regretted it: If I had known this would happen, I would never have come here tonight.

He originally thought tonight would just be a simple face-to-face presentation, and he wanted to do his job well in front of the commander so that he could negotiate a half point more in the profit sharing for the next batch of goods.

Now things are really messed up; the profit sharing hasn't even been discussed yet, and my life might actually be lost here.

boom! boom! boom!

Several more gunshots rang out, this time closer, and Jose could even hear the panicked shouts of the manor guards.

Paino came out of the foyer, walked through the corridor, and pushed open the cast-iron door leading to the back garden.

At Morales's command, most of the guards from the estate had arrived here, using the stone pillars, flower beds, and low walls as cover to exchange fire with the people in the garden.

Several still-warm corpses lay on the ground, their eyes wide open, blood pooling on the pebbles.

Paino stood behind his guards, his revolver pointing at the ten blood-soaked figures across the garden, and roared, "You liberal bastards, don't you even respect the rules anymore? The ceasefire agreement at Constitution Square was only signed a few days ago, and you dare to raid the garrison commander's residence at night? You're trying to ruin the revolution!"

The people in the garden looked at each other blankly: "Did you understand what he was saying?"

"Only Javier understands Spanish, but he's with José."

"Whatever he says, judging from his expression, it's not something nice. Just keep hitting him."

Paino frowned as he listened to the English spoken in the garden.

His English wasn't good enough; he could only understand a few words. Just as he was about to ask the person next to him what the foreigner was saying, his peripheral vision suddenly caught sight of someone beside him.

José stood two steps behind him, his face paler than the moonlight, his mouth agape, his expression one of utter panic and astonishment.

"Jose, do you know them?"

"That guy in the dark coat is Dutch; he's the outsider who bought the sulfur!"

Paino turned to stare at José, his revolver pointing at José's chest, his anger blazing: "Did you lure them here?"

"It wasn't me! I didn't!"

Jose took a step back, his back slamming against the stone wall, shaking his head repeatedly: "Commander, I came here alone tonight, I don't know how they got here! I swear!"

"Hmph, I'll settle the score with you later!"

Paino holstered his gun, turned around, and shouted at the guards in front of him, "Shoot! Shoot! Kill them!"

boom!boom!boom!boom!

The guards raised their flintlock pistols and revolvers, unleashing a barrage of fire into the garden. Bullets sent branches and leaves flying, scattering debris everywhere.

After the volley ended, there was no more movement in the garden.

Morales made a gesture, and several guards, following his signal, cautiously advanced into the garden, guns at their ready and crouching low.

The next second, gunshots rang out, and several guards who had entered the garden fell down with cries of pain.

Ten figures rushed out of the garden at the same time.

Arthur and John's revolvers simultaneously spewed fire, and the first few guards fell to the ground, their revolvers slipping from their hands before they could even pull the trigger.

Dutch led his men to cut in from the flank, firing two revolvers from either side, each shot taking a life.

Charles pulled out a grenade from his waist and quickly threw it. The grenade landed in the crowd, exploding with a loud bang and killing several figures.

"They are not human, they are devils! They are devils!"

The guards began to retreat.

Aside from being possessed by a demon, there's absolutely no way to explain how the other side managed to kill someone with every shot they fired.

Those people didn't even bother to find cover; they just stood there in the open, shooting one after another, like they were doing target practice.

Who fights a war like this?

For the small amount of money I receive each week, I've done my job well enough for Mr. Paino!

"Come back! Come back here! Don't run away!"

Paino roared at the fleeing guards, but not one of them turned around.

Dutch and his men did not give chase, but instead focused on eliminating the guards who were still resisting.

A moment later, the gunfire completely stopped.

Corpses lay scattered haphazardly on the garden's cobblestone path, blood slowly seeping from beneath them, forming dark red streams between the stones.

Manuel Painho was shot in the head and lay sprawled on the ground.

José huddled in the corner of the stone wall, his back pressed tightly against the cold stone, his arms crossed over his chest. He watched Dutch approach step by step, his expression growing increasingly terrified.

"Mr. José, I originally thought you were a smart man."

Dutch spoke calmly, as if chatting in a bathhouse: "I tolerated your price increase. In business, it's only natural to haggle when someone asks for an exorbitant price."

But you still went and colluded with this idiot commander to seize the goods.

"What, you think Mexico City is your territory and nothing will happen to you, is that it?"

"Mr. Dutch, Mr. Dutch, I know I was wrong!"

Jose's body trembled, and he hurriedly said, "Didn't you want to buy sulfur? I have a source, I can get you at least 10,000 pounds of sulfur! No, 20,000 pounds!"

"I'm useful, please don't kill me!"

The only answer he received was a gunshot!

boom.

Jose's body stiffened abruptly, then slid down softly.

"You don't know you're wrong, you just know you're going to die."

Dutch coldly stared at his corpse and began to contact Zeng Tai, who was far away in San Francisco.

"My lord, there is something here that requires your assistance."

"Yes, a city garrison commander, a sulfur middleman, can be a nail driven into Mexico City."

"We'll need them when we buy sulfur in the future."

Soon, Paino and José opened their eyes again.