The Creators: From Night City

Jiang Bing used practical actions to shatter the resistance he had organized with great difficulty.

"Take the money and stand aside."

At present, 700 US dollars is enough to buy the life of a white person. If this money is mailed back to his hometown in Guangzhou, it will be enough for the women, the elderly and the children in his family to buy a house and land, with some left over.

He Tieya moved his lips a few times, but finally he was convinced and bowed to Jiang Bing, then stood aside.

"Stand over here." Jiang Bing corrected.

"Workers, resettlement allowance is 200, and soldiers, resettlement allowance is 700."

Now the crowd became lively.

Those who dare to cross the ocean and come to a foreign country to risk their lives to make money are not timid. After hearing Jiang Bing's words, they all rushed to the front for fear of falling behind.

However, Jiang Bing did not accept everyone. He just paid $200 per person to settle them down and sent them away, saying that he would select the best ones in the future.

You can't become Boss Jiang's soldier just because you want to.

The total resettlement allowance for the 242 Chinese workers was less than $5.

This amount of money is not small at all. A luxury mansion in Manhattan, New York, with a private stable and a complete set of marble staircases is worth $25,000, a six-story brick office building in downtown Chicago is only $80,000, and an industrial-grade locomotive is about $15,000.

If this amount of money were used to purchase land in the current West, it would be enough to buy 30,000 acres (about 121 square kilometers, equivalent to the current size of San Francisco).

But it’s not too much.

When all the materials are ready, the intelligent fully automatic high-speed printing compound machine produced by International Electronics Corporation (IEC) can print 50 copies of US dollars per minute after being modified by Jiang Bing.

The number of sheets in an edition is 200, which is equivalent to 1000 yuan when converted into a 5-dollar denomination.

That is to say, it costs $5 for the intelligent fully automatic high-speed printing compound machine to work for one minute.

If the United States Bureau of Engraving and Printing in downtown Washington knew about this efficiency in printing money, they would probably turn to Jiang Bing for advice.

At this moment, in a sense, the Federal Reserve’s money is equal to Boss Jiang’s money.

It's just that the way he withdraws money is a little special.

As the Chinese gradually received their resettlement allowances and settled down one by one, dozens of Irish workers came into Jiang Bing's sight.

They looked at the box with hope, but were met with a ruthless and indifferent rejection.

"Workers receive $3 a day and $20 for resettlement."

Jiang Bing's words are full of condescending racial discrimination and differential treatment, but if there is no deduction, such treatment is already at the current average level.

Before Boss Jiang came, white workers were treated better than Chinese workers. But after Boss Jiang came, both sides were treated the same. Boss Jiang's visit was in vain.

This is only because these people are all low-level laborers, otherwise every one of them would have to wear an anklet.

Faced with the black muzzles of guns, dozens of Irish workers had no choice but to join.

"If you take my money and then try to go back on your word, don't blame me for being ruthless."

After showing his compassionate heart, Jiang Bing raised his revolver and shot the unlucky Irish guy who had been kicked more than ten meters away with a shot, turning his head into a rotten watermelon. Then he did the same to the unlucky guy with a broken leg.

"My goodness, this is courtesy before force." Zhu Changbian muttered to Feng Xuesheng in a low voice.

Jiang Bing turned around and stared at Zhu Changbian, who was talking so much that he kept silent about it.

A large group of people began to pack up their things and followed Jiang Bing under the moonlight to migrate towards the snow-capped mountains in the north.

Only an empty camp is left. I wonder if any legends about ghost camps will be born.

Chapter 236 The Tree Wants to Be Still, But the Wind Does Not Stop

North of the Wapiti Indian Reservation, Tobacco Pipe Valley.

Large-scale construction is underway on this land, which nominally belongs to the Wapiti Indian tribe.

Zhou Mancang, along with Chen Gui, who had escaped death, led more than 200 workers and they were busy working according to the design drawings given by Jiang Bing.

"I didn't expect that an old man like you could still make it." Zhou Mancang secretly glanced at the 'iron man' supervisor standing in the corner of the construction site and joked with his good friend and assistant.

The reason why Zhou Mancang is highly respected among the Chinese workers is not only because he is fair in his dealings. Although he is a bit pedantic, he is still upright. It is also because he can be regarded as a third-generation craftsman. His ancestors have been working in the Qing Dynasty's Tuntian Qinglisi. If it were not for the corruption of his superiors and problems with the mausoleum repairs, his father would be thrown out to take the blame and he would end up being dismissed and exiled. Zhou Mancang would still be considered a ninth-rank official.

Although he lost his official position, he did not lose his family's construction skills. Because of this, he was elected as the foreman by everyone because of his good interpersonal skills and ability to handle things. He was responsible for negotiating with the white people externally and mediating disputes and coordinating the construction schedule internally.

Chen Gui, who fell ill from overwork and fainted with a high fever and was rescued by Jiang Bingcai a few days ago, was a down-and-out scholar. He was originally a teacher in a rural private school. His family was destroyed by the Taiping Rebellion, and he was forced to "sell his pigs" to pay off his debts and go to the United States.

As one of the few intellectuals among the Chinese workers who was most adept at writing, all the family letters, documents, and obituaries of illness and injury were written by him, so his prestige was second only to Zhou Mancang.

"I couldn't believe it. Could this 'Black King' really be omniscient, summoning souls and refining medicine? That day, I had a high fever and felt like my soul had left my body, but he dragged me back from the brink of death."

Jiang Bing's name has been passed down from mouth to mouth among various people, becoming more and more mysterious.

"I think what you said makes sense. Look at those mechanical people. They walk, sit, and lie down like real people..."

On the top of the mountain, Feiying climbed up to a high platform with great effort. Jiang Bing was standing on the edge, looking at a fortress in the distance.

"Wallaceburg." Eagle gnashed with hatred when he spoke of it.

This military fortress, which housed two cavalry squadrons and an infantry platoon, was the most powerful nail the Eastern government had driven into the West.

The army stationed in this location had only three missions: to protect the construction of the transcontinental railway, to eliminate roving bandits such as the O'Driscoll Gang and other large-scale anti-government forces, and to monitor the Indian tribes on the reservation.

Coincidentally, these three points conflict with Jiang Bing’s next actions.

"Is there any movement?" Jiang Bing looked at the fortress that looked so fragile from this point of view and asked Feiying.

"Red Deer's patrol team discovered traces of Wallace Fortress cavalry scout activity on the outskirts, but they are mainly concentrated near our camp, which is still some distance away."

"But it's only a matter of time before they discover this place. After all, it's difficult to conceal the activities of hundreds of people."

"You just need to help these Chinese soldiers assigned to you get familiar with their equipment as soon as possible and form combat effectiveness as soon as possible." Jiang Bing patted Feiying's shoulder.

"Their good days won't last long."

Feiying, who already had some idea of ​​Jiang Bing's style of doing things, smiled bloodthirstyly and lowered his head to accept the order.

However, the tree wants to be still, but the wind does not stop.

In the afternoon, Luo Yu was supported by Feiying and came to the palace of the Black King.

There was a bruise on his face, obviously caused by being beaten.

"Respected 'Black King', Luo Yu is begging you to grant me justice."

"The Americans did it?"

"It's Colonel Favors of Fort Wallace." Eagle gritted his teeth in hatred.

"He led his army into our camp, forcibly took away the dozen or so children left in the tribe, and took them to a so-called reform school to learn their so-called advanced civilization."

"This is kidnapping!" Feiying concluded loudly.

With Jiang Bing's support, Luo Yu became much bolder.

"He's a devil, no doubt about it. He and his army take pleasure in persecuting us. In recent years, they have forcibly taken away all the children in the tribe, including the women, and sent them to so-called reform schools."

"But no one can come back, and they won't even let us visit!"

"They are human traffickers. They completely ignore our wishes. Young girls are also kidnapped and sent to forced transformation, but no one can come back." Feiying added angrily.

"Now they have taken away the last children of the tribe, the children we have carefully protected." Luo Yu's eyes were filled with tears.

"Without the children, we old people will be the only ones left in the Wapiti Indian tribe, and we will have no future."

Jiang Bing put down the data tablet in his hand and looked at the two of them.

"You paid your taxes and deserve my protection. I will seek justice for you."

"Flying Eagle, I think you must know the address of the so-called boarding reform school."

Feiying grinned, revealing his sharp white teeth. "Of course."

"Call your brothers, bring your full set of equipment, and get ready to go."

The young man who advocated war was very excited. He puffed out his chest, saluted with a clenched fist, and rushed out the door.

"Are you finally not going to give in, Luoyu?" Jiang Bing looked at the old chief who had been silent the whole time and suddenly asked.

"The Indians' fate would have been sealed long ago if it weren't for you, 'Black King'." The always taciturn chief suddenly spoke.

"They used imprisonment or food deprivation to coerce Indians who integrated into the city, sent children to school, burned our traditional clothing in school, banned the wearing of tribal ornaments, forced conversion to Christianity, and banned our language."

"Although these white people didn't kill us right away, it was no different from a massacre. Our culture was destroyed by them. Children will gradually forget our festivals and customs, stop wearing our clothes, and stop worshipping our gods, until no one can speak our language anymore."

"The Wapiti Indian tribe died."

The falling rain sees everything very clearly.

"Cultural genocide." Jiang Bing gave an accurate summary.

"You've always known it." Jiang Bing sighed sincerely.

Yes, how could a chief who could maintain the entire tribe until 1899 and still possess considerable power be a simple person?

“I sometimes prefer not to understand.”

"I never had a choice, 'Black King'. Ants have no right to speak in front of humans, so I need to remain silent."

The falling rain bowed deeply.

"Until you came to us."

"So you chose to gamble everything, to make it rain, even at the cost of the entire tribe."

Chapter 237 Night Visit to Indian Boarding School

Luo Yu just smiled, looking fearless.

"To fight a wild beast without hope is folly, but to have any hope, however slim, of victory is heroism."

The old chief was decisive and unrestrained. "There are cowards among Indians, but there are none among the Wapiti Indians."

Jiang Bing looked again at the old chief with a face full of wrinkles and weathered faces.

"I never thought you were the most determined advocate of war. Flying Eagle is far less radical than you."

"But are you so sure I can win?"

Luo Yu said nothing more, but spread out his hands and pointed at the feathered serpent lantern hanging on Jiang Bing's waist.

Jiang Bing understood instantly and cursed in his heart, "Damn Mirror Master, no wonder he paid the bill first for the first time, it turns out he was waiting here."

Jiang Bing now suspects that the other party has also had transactions with the Indians.

No wonder Luo Yu's attitude changed so smoothly and quickly.

Jiang Bing thought for a moment and didn't say anything more. Instead, he took out a stack of development plans from the table beside him and handed it to Luo Yu.

"Since you've decided to follow me forever, stop wasting time and find something to do."

………………

That night.

On the outskirts of the northeast corner of Saint Denis, on the riverbank where it meets the Lanahache River.

A cold, pale fog suddenly enveloped this corner of the desolate mountains, and an illusory ghost train quietly entered the station.

Twelve Indian warriors walked off the train with Jiang Bing, their hands and legs shaking.

It was my first time riding a ghost train, and I was walking between life and death, so it was normal to feel carsick.

Indian boarding schools were generally located far away from reservations to prevent students from escaping or family visits, thus cutting off their ties to the tribe.

However, the location must also be close to a railway to facilitate the transportation of children, and there must be rivers and farms nearby.

The farm was not intended to provide food, but to facilitate forced labor for these students.

Of course, the self-proclaimed civilized country will not say this to the outside world, but will package it as a more acceptable part-time work and study, that is, students study in class for 4 hours a day and do 4 hours of unpaid work (farms, laundry rooms, canteens, etc.).

Most of these schools are run by Catholic, Protestant and other churches. The government will provide funding to local churches based on the number of students, and the schools can also make profits by selling crops and textiles produced by students.

Turning a school into a business is not uncommon and is not surprising.

The group walked through large rapeseed fields and vegetable plots planted with various vegetables, and could vaguely see the cross decoration on the top of the school's tallest building.

This place is very remote, with no human habitation within a radius of ten miles. Apart from this school, the only trace of human activity around is the Kasika Island Prison across the Ranahchi River.

Before they reached the door, they heard faint cries coming from all around.