Blackwater

At Dutch's command, the entire Van der Linde Gang immediately sprang into action.

Mr. Van der Linde's words were now the highest decree in all of New Hanover.

Upon learning Mr. Van der Linde's intentions, Sheriff Malloy, with over thirty deputies, followed closely like paparazzi, constantly clearing the way for Mr. Van der Linde to ease his burden.

What the sh*t! Senator, what the sh*t! Senator's wife, could they possibly have more influence than Mr. Van der Linde now?

Mr. Van der Linde's armed special train, halted at Valentine Train Station, was loaded with ample coal and water to ensure a smooth journey.

If not for Mr. Van der Linde's refusal, Sheriff Malloy, to express his profound respect, would likely have personally led his deputies on horseback, accompanying the train to escort Mr. Van der Linde.

Time slowly passed. Under Arthur's organization, three hundred elite gunmen gathered, boarded carriages, took their equipment, and headed majestically towards Valentine.

Perhaps this scene alone doesn't convey how magnificent Mr. Van der Linde's contingent was.

Let's put it this way: three hundred soldiers, if five per carriage, would require sixty carriages for transport.

And in addition to these sixty troop transport carriages, at least ten more freight carriages would be needed to ensure sufficient logistical reserves.

After all, even by train, it would take two days and two nights to reach Blackwater in West Elizabeth.

Moreover, this trip was for transporting people. Even if Blackwater only had thirty thousand survivors, transporting them by train would still require many round trips.

To ensure transport efficiency and reduce travel time, Mr. Van der Linde specially split the two-locomotive special train into two sections, pulling open-sided iron boxcars to ensure the safety and firing positions of the gunmen inside, with three freight trains sandwiched between these two security carriages.

This was a critical time, so the comfort of the personnel inside could not be guaranteed. Therefore, everyone stood packed together in the train cars, with no personal space. Every five hours, there would be a thirty-minute stop for restroom breaks and rest.

It could be said that the personnel loaded onto this train were not much different from how the Nazis transported squids. One train could carry at least 1,500 people. Three trains would mean about 4,500 people per trip.

This way, six train trips would be enough to bring back all the remaining people from Blackwater to serve as grassroots builders.

Of course, there would certainly be those who didn't want to come. If those people were subtracted, perhaps five trips would be enough.

For these grassroots builders, all of Valentine was bustling with preparations under Mr. Van der Linde's command.

To welcome them, Mr. Van der Linde specifically implemented a work-relief policy for the people.

If these people arrived in Valentine without savings or a means of living, Mr. Van der Linde would allocate them a six-square-meter wooden hut to reside in. They would only need to work under Mr. Van der Linde, who provided food and lodging, to earn wages and repay the rent for their housing.

The monthly rent for Mr. Van der Linde's wooden huts was three dollars, while their minimum monthly wage was twenty-five dollars, with food and lodging provided. This, of course, would allow them to settle down and become the lifeblood of Valentine. After all, this life was far more comfortable than in Blackwater.

If they had savings and could temporarily support themselves, then they would be completely free. Whether working in Valentine or taking the train to Saint Denis or Blackwater, Mr. Van der Linde would not obstruct them in any way.

After all, this was all his territory. Where they worked didn't matter, it was still work, right?

Three hundred gunmen, riding in carriages, majestically drove along the road into Valentine, drawing onlookers from the town's residents.

The last time Mr. Van der Linde gathered gunmen and passed through Valentine was during the bandit suppression, at which time the people of Valentine didn't take it seriously, believing the bandit suppression would likely come to nothing.

Unexpectedly, Mr. Van der Linde truly delivered a completely safe living environment to them.

So, when these people saw Mr. Van der Linde's contingent of gunmen this time, they immediately became excited.

"Oh, sh*t! Mr. Van der Linde's army has appeared again! I wonder what good deeds Mr. Van der Linde will do this time?" People playing cards in the tavern all stood up, one by one looking out through the window.

The owner of the Valentine Tavern calmly wiped the glass in his hand and said, "Mr. Van der Linde is going to Blackwater to pick up people. You know, West Elizabeth has been very unstable lately. Mr. Van der Linde is kind-hearted and can't bear to see the people of Blackwater cruelly murdered by those damned gang members, so he decided to fund it himself and go into Blackwater to pick up their remaining people."

As soon as the owner said this, the people in the tavern immediately erupted.

"Sh*t! Mr. Van der Linde is truly a kind and great man! If I were kidnapped by those gang members, I'm sure my boss would act as if nothing happened!" Someone was immediately moved. They were like members of the Van der Linde Gang, unconditionally believing everything Mr. Van der Linde said now.

Of course, there were also some with a business mindset or who saw a bit of the true situation.

"I knew it, I knew Mr. Van der Linde wouldn't tolerate the problems in West Elizabeth. Perhaps this pickup is just the beginning. It's very likely Mr. Van der Linde will directly send troops to attack and clear out the criminals in West Elizabeth next.

Damn it, I need to get ready and get a piece of the action with Mr. Van der Linde!"

"Oh, my Van der Linde! The old man is always so kind, Van!" A man, with a devout expression, clasped his hands together, pulled out a pocket watch from his chest with Mr. Van der Linde's large wanted photo inside, and prayed devoutly using a Catholic gesture, blessing Mr. Van der Linde, though the words from his mouth and the object of his prayer had slightly changed.

These were the ones who had been fooled silly by the newspapers and the change in their living standards during this period. They were truly passionate individuals, and also the most fanatical among them. They were willing to dedicate their lives to Mr. Van der Linde at any time.

This was also why Mary-Beth felt the content of Dutch's newspaper was strange. Because what he wrote, like the Bible, had a brainwashing effect.

The people of Valentine now have a lot to look forward to in their lives.

This is also why they are loyal to Mr. Van der Linde.

The atmosphere in the saloon reached a climax with the arrival of Mr. Van der Linde's gunmen.

There were pitifully few prostitutes in the saloon now; at most, only a few women who disliked working and preferred to earn money by lying around still enjoyed the profession.

However, their fees were now ridiculously high. Because of Mr. Van der Linde, the people of Valentine no longer worried about food and drink, and money saved was not of much use, so they basically spent all their money on eating, drinking, gambling, and whoring.

Correspondingly, the prostitutes' asking prices were much higher than before; previously, fifty cents could get you a woman, and a dollar could get her for a whole day. But now it was different; the starting price was three dollars, because these prostitutes also wanted to pursue a high-class life.

Even so, their business was still ridiculously good.

However, no matter what, the decrease in prostitutes clearly showed the effectiveness of Mr. Van der Linde's efforts during this period.

At this moment, as Mr. Van der Linde rode his white horse through the streets of Valentine, the cheers reached their peak.

"Van der Linde!"

"Van der Linde!"

"Lord Van der Linde! I love you!"

The streets were bustling with people, groups of them standing in front of shops on both sides of the street, cheering, jumping with excitement, their faces flushed.

Tom was one of them.

"Lord Van der Linde! I support you! I will always support you!!! Ahhhh!!!"

"Lord Van der Linde, I am willing to die for you! Lord, ahhh!!!"

He stood at the saloon door, holding a beer, shouting loudly. His face was flushed crimson with excitement, his body trembled uncontrollably, and he didn't stop until his throat was hoarse.

The intense shouting caused him to feel nauseous due to physiological shortness of breath, but even so, he continued to shout loudly, even if he didn't make much sound due to complete excitement and exhilaration.

His entire being experienced dizziness due to excitement, exhilaration, and shortness of breath from shouting, but this still could not hinder the extreme respect and adoration in his heart.

"Van der Linde... *retch*! Lord... *retch*! I, *retch*, support you... *retch*! *retch*!"

Tom's face was flushed from choking on air, and tears welled up in his eyes, but he still desperately jumped, wanting Lord Van der Linde to see his adoring gaze.

It wasn't Tom's fault for being so crazy, because the surrounding crowd was far more frantic than him.

Tom was originally a ranch hand. His life was typical of a Westerner's life.

His family was dirt poor, and he earned ten dollars a month as a ranch hand, which was already a high wage given that his father also worked for the ranch owner.

However, the ranch owner did not provide food or lodging. His ten-dollar salary was barely enough to feed his family each month, let alone buy clothes.

He and his wife shared one set of clothes, and because they had nowhere to live, they could only reside in a small, dilapidated shed where firewood was stored next to the cowshed. Even this was considered an extraordinary kindness from the ranch owner (John's treatment at the end of the story is unimaginable in this era; a three-dollar-a-day salary was even more than the owner earned in a day, and he was even given a house. This was a scenario one could only dream of, because at the same time, workers in England were still sleeping on rope beds, and it was perfectly normal for several family members in the Qing Dynasty to share one piece of clothing. American capitalism was still expanding wildly, so it was impossible to give such good lives to the workers below, otherwise everyone would just go to work).

His family considered it a good day if they could eat three meals a day. They could only endure illness, and the carrots eaten by horses were the only fruit they could afford. His wife would hide in the small wooden shed, weaving some fabric to earn extra income, and his son would help him work on the ranch, occasionally sneaking a sip or two of milk.

If nothing unexpected happened, he would likely work for the owner until he died, and before his death, he would use his years of effort to secure a livelihood for his son.

This was already an excellent life in the West at that time, as countless people starved, froze, or were killed by bandits outside; having food and shelter was already considered a normal life.

Tom thought his life would probably pass by this way, but unexpectedly, one day, Mr. Van der Linde arrived.

Tom first heard the name Mr. Van der Linde when he was shoveling cow dung on the ranch. A worker who had gone to Valentine with the owner to sell milk returned and brought them this name and a piece of news that seemed incredibly false to all of them:

"A Mr. Arthur Callahan is recruiting workers in Valentine. Oh my goodness, you didn't see the state of Valentine today; the entire Valentine street was packed with people. It was the first time I realized there were so many people in Valentine!

But this Mr. Van der Linde is a bit unusual; he only recruits female workers! Damn it, I'm sure he has some conspiracy!

Those saloon prostitutes, the dishwashing women, all ran like crazy, gathering in the streets of Valentine. I originally thought that was the most it would be, who knew that after a while, women who got the news also ran out of their homes like crazy! Damn it, I've never seen those women so frantic! They were like lunatics, some not even wearing clothes!

However, the Mr. Arthur Callahan's treatment seems to be really good. I heard others say that he gives those female workers twenty-five dollars a month and provides food and lodging! They can even bring their children into the factory, and he even provides food and lodging for their children!

Damn it! I'm sure this is definitely a conspiracy; no boss would give people such good treatment!"

Tom scoffed at this idea at the time, thinking it was impossible for any boss to offer such good treatment, otherwise how would they make money?

But even so, he still quietly kept it in mind and began to look for opportunities to inquire about Mr. Arthur Callahan in Valentine and the current living conditions of the recruited female workers.

But to his surprise, that Mr. Arthur Callahan seemed to be a major wanted criminal, Dutch Van der Linde! A terrifying devil with a bounty as high as fifteen thousand dollars! A killing machine!

Damn it, a fifteen-thousand-dollar bounty? He thought even a hundred dollars was an exorbitant price!

When he first heard the news, Tom thought those female workers were definitely doomed; they would undoubtedly suffer inhuman torment and die an unnatural death.

However, after a month, those female workers returned to Valentine, one by one, with rosy complexions and elegant clothes. It was clear they had been living very well during this time, because in this era, only the wealthy could eat their fill. And they had also become exceptionally rich. Some used the money to build houses for their families, others bought things from the mountains for their homes. Huge sums of ten or twenty dollars were spent like waste paper in their hands, immediately causing a wave of speculation in Valentine about these women's lives.

Tom paid close attention to their every move and all the rumors.

Finally, everyone came to a conclusion.

Mr. Dutch Van der Linde, who had a sky-high bounty of fifteen thousand dollars, actually seemed to have opened a factory and truly paid his workers so much!

From then on, Tom completely changed.

His attention shifted from the ranch; he began to eagerly compete to sell milk. He always lingered in Valentine, constantly waiting, preparing, and hoping.

Finally, he entered Mr. Van der Linde's factory.

Tom roared, releasing the joy, happiness, and loyalty he had accumulated during this time.

Now his family could earn seventy-five dollars a month, as he was a transport worker and his wife was a garment worker.

They no longer had to worry about clothes, housing, and living expenses. They could now buy fruit if they wanted fruit, and buy clothes if they wanted clothes. Even his son entered Valentine's First School, and upon graduation, he would be a senior worker for Mr. Van der Linde.

His family had completely reversed their fortunes, transforming from an ordinary Western family that struggled with food and drink into a prosperous, carefree ordinary family in Valentine.

Everything he had came from Mr. Van der Linde, and he would dedicate his entire life to Mr. Van der Linde.

And this was just one of the thirty thousand people in Valentine, quite ordinary, because everyone could live such a life.

The loyal people of Valentine in the loyal town of Valentine watched with reverence as Mr. Van der Linde led three hundred gunmen onto the extended armed train.

The sun was bright, and the armed train let out a whooshing whistle, then sped towards Blackwater.

The armored train roared on the tracks, its thick steel plates providing it with infinite security.

At least in this era, no weapon could penetrate these protective steel plates and hit the inside of the train.

Small openings appeared on both sides of the train's steel plates, and a dark gun barrel protruded from each opening.

The entire train car had been modified, with a passage opened at the top of the middle of each car. A Maxim gun was mounted at the top of the passage, allowing people to climb from inside the car to the roof and then use the roof-mounted Maxim gun to provide suppressive fire on the surroundings.

In addition, there was an artillery piece at both the front and back of the train to strike armed individuals hiding behind cover in a parabolic trajectory.

It could be said that the entire train was armed to the teeth; even if bombs blew up the railway, these trains would still have no problems.

If the train blew up the railway while speeding, the train would not roll over due to its own weight.

It could be said that in this era, apart from the lack of railway ahead preventing this train from moving forward, there was no other way to resist this armored train.

The Maxim gun had an effective range of a full one thousand meters, and each car was equipped with five observers to monitor the surrounding movements. As soon as a figure appeared in the binoculars, the Maxim gun would immediately open fire, killing anyone who tried to approach.

This also made the various gangs currently surviving in West Elizabeth suffer immensely.

For example, the Skinners Brothers Gang, who heard the train's movement and wanted to rob it to supplement their household expenses.

"Da da da…" A series of machine gun sounds rang out, along with faint screams and the roar of artillery.

The Skinners Brothers Gang, who had been greatly reduced in number by the O'Driscoll Gang's pursuit and slaughter during this period, suffered a great misfortune.

They had just emerged from the woods on horseback, intending to chase the train and rob it, but as soon as they burst out of the woods, they were stunned by the sight of the distant train.

The armored train, wrapped in thick steel plates, looked heavy and deadly. The entire train body was incredibly long; they couldn't even see the front or back of the train from such a distance.

Because the distance was too great, they couldn't see the gun muzzles protruding from the train, only that there seemed to be machine guns mounted on the roof.

"What is that thing?" The leader of the Skinners Brothers Gang had just spoken when the piercing sound of machine gun fire erupted.

"Whoosh whoosh whoosh…" The bullets tearing through the air even created a sound of air being ripped apart. A continuous stream of dense bullets, like yellow rays of light, formed a straight line.

Before these bullets, whether it was trees or flowers, if hit, a large hole would explode. A few shots would break a large tree at its roots.

The dense bullets, like the scythe of death, weaved towards their position in an arc visible to the naked eye.

The Skinners Brothers Gang's leader's face changed drastically; his eyes were about to pop out.

"Damn it, retreat…" He had just opened his mouth when a bullet pierced his chest, directly blowing out a cavity in his entire upper body.

"Ahhh!!!"

A shrill scream accompanied the leader's death, but the next moment, the positions occupied by the remaining people were swept by machine gun bullet chains.

Bullets hitting the human body directly exploded and penetrated, leaving exploded dirt pits on the ground.

"Ow! What the hell is this…" The Maxim gun was like a merciless grim reaper, harvesting the remaining fifty or sixty members of the Skinners Brothers Gang in swaths.

Their souls scattered under the machine gun bullets. Some wanted to run into the woods, but the bullets directly shot through and broke the trees, hitting their bodies. The dense firepower even formed intersecting rays of light like lasers, flattening everything in the intersecting area, whether it was people or trees, into powder under this powerful firepower.

These remaining fifty or sixty members of the Skinners Brothers Gang couldn't even get close to the train before being turned into a pile of flesh.

The scene vividly illustrated why the cowboy era would eventually come to an end.

When Dutch's aircraft group flies over America and his Tank group speeds across the American land, the entire world will tremble!

Fortunately, the O'Driscoll Gang's Ewing Ranch was far from this railway leading to Blackwater, and their influence hadn't reached this area. Otherwise, Mr. Colm would probably have died before even achieving success.

Dutch sat in the train's luxurious lounge car, looking at the dried severed leg hanging and constantly swaying from the train's ceiling, and elegantly picked up a brandy glass from the side.

Arthur, John, and a few others were gathered around a table, joyfully playing Texas Hold'em.

These damned things no longer even needed to act; the fully established firepower had completely replaced their role as gunmen.

Perhaps, this is the meaning of gang expansion?