Desperado

"Daydreaming!"

Sallie Stanley, the pot-bellied capitalist in the wooden cabin, sneered, his disdain for Cornwall almost overflowing.

There's a difference in capital; Mr. Cornwall's capital is different from Mr. Stanley's.

Leviticus Cornwall's ancestors were among the gold prospectors who came from Europe to America. Later, his grandfather and father, relying on their accumulated savings and the era, gathered a large group of people and became gang members, essentially bandits. Then they enclosed land, laundered their money, and gradually reached their current status.

In other words, his family came from humble beginnings, lacked proper upbringing, refinement, and depth. So Mr. Cornwall himself didn't have much of a foundation; he even specifically told the American soldiers to pay for their own packages when sending them things.

This perfectly depicts the typical face of a capitalist.

Mr. Stanley's rise was connected to the Italian Mafia. Like Signor Bronte, he was a member of the Italian Mafia, arriving around the same time as Signor Bronte.

However, the Big Boss he followed preferred more illicit businesses, so he eventually ended up in Mexico. Over the years, he has developed into a warlord.

Most importantly, the one thousand three hundred gunmen in Mexico are basically Mr. Stanley's subordinates, or rather, members of their family.

How could they possibly look up to a capitalist like Mr. Cornwall, who used to be their target for extortion?

"Stanley, you will regret this, you will definitely regret this! We've already lost our base in Lemoyne, and from now on, we won't have any channels even for smuggling tobacco!"

Mr. Cornwall, with a furious expression, angrily rebuked Stanley, who was standing at the wooden cabin's entrance.

The primary market for Mexico's illicit products has always been America, and it remains so. Mr. Cornwall and his associates used to smuggle their goods, entering Lemoyne through Blackwater and Van Horn Trading Post, producing finished products, and then transporting them by rail to the American East. However, with Van Horn Trading Post cut off by Mr. Van der Linde, Blackwater blockaded by gangs, and the railway also controlled by Mr. Van der Linde, their smuggling business has been severely impacted over the past two months. They can only rely on Van der Linde Gang to transport goods by carriage, which greatly reduces efficiency and significantly increases costs. Therefore, Mr. Cornwall brought up this situation to provoke Stanley and the other capitalists behind him.

As expected, Daniel, who had just disagreed with Cornwall's idea, instantly changed his attitude.

"What? F*ck! Mr. Cornwall, if you knew this was the reason, why didn't you say so earlier? Damn it, do you know how much profit we've lost during this time? F*ck, f*ck!!"

Daniel cursed, gnashing his teeth as he looked at Mr. Cornwall.

They knew there had been a problem with Van Horn Trading Post during this time; their subordinates sent to transport goods never returned. This forced them to change channels and transport goods from Blackwater.

Originally, transporting goods from Blackwater was another viable channel, but it also became difficult a month ago. Goods were constantly being stolen by gang members, leaving them no choice but to use Van der Linde Gang's channel.

During this time, they had inquired about news frequently, but no one sent out had ever returned.

They originally thought that Van Horn Trading Post had encountered a tough gang, but now they realized it wasn't just a gang; it was a coup! The people they sent out must have all been captured!

In reality, Mr. Daniel was mistaken; his subordinates were not captured. In fact, when the subordinates he sent to gather information arrived in Valentine and Saint Denis, they realized that being a gang member was far worse than working in Valentine. Not only was there no danger, but the pay and benefits were much better than in Mexico, and they didn't have to worry about saying or doing the wrong thing and risking their lives. Mr. Van der Linde also had strong security measures to ensure they wouldn't be captured and brought back to Mexico, so all the subordinates sent stayed in Valentine or Saint Denis to work.

This was the fundamental reason why no news came back from Lemoyne.

"Damn it, I need to contact Big Boss immediately!" Daniel, exasperated, scurried back into the wooden cabin. Mr. Cornwall's heart swelled with joy, and he followed him in.

Contact him, contact him! That damned Dutch Van der Linde, a mere desperado, a cursed street rat, it's time you learned what the true difference in strength is!

You damned gang members, you will never be able to compare to a true warlord!

---

"Whoosh… whoosh… whoosh…"

The piercing whistle of a ship's horn echoed along the Mexican coast, startling flocks of birds from the forest.

Mexico currently has no naval defense, or rather, the naval defense isn't in the Lanaheqi River area.

This region, bordering America, has long been occupied by various gang members and warlords. The people living here are not Mexican residents but rather swarms of smugglers.

Because of this, there are also many ports in this area; Mr. Van der Linde alone had three to choose from.

And now, the port they chose to dock at is Rhine Harbor, the closest to Saint Denis.

Rhine Harbor, similar to Van Horn Trading Post, was initially a port funded and built by the Mexican government. However, due to the continuous deterioration of relations with America, this port was abandoned. Furthermore, because the area was occupied by warlords and gang members, the Mexican residents of this port moved away, and now this place has completely become a gathering point for various desperadoes, mercenaries, and smugglers.

However, today, this place is about to undergo a major transformation.

Rhine Harbor is neither too big nor too small; it's larger than Van Horn Trading Post but smaller than Saint Denis Port. The resident population is five to six hundred people, and the daily influx can reach over a thousand.

However, with Mr. Van der Linde controlling Van Horn Trading Post and the smuggling activities at Saint Denis Port, the floating population in this area has significantly decreased, now basically maintaining around six to seven hundred.

There aren't many pedestrians on the streets; everyone here is either a desperado or a smuggler, so the main characteristic is unrestrained revelry without discipline.

A port of six to seven hundred people has five taverns alone, which shows what kind of place this is.

The streets were sparsely populated, but all five taverns were packed, filled with prostitutes and male escorts, with desperadoes shouting and brawling. The stench of alcohol and fish almost wafted out through the door cracks.

As the primary manager of Rhine Harbor and an official member of the Bartolo family, Fabio Lombardi held a crucial position in Rhine Harbor.

This could be seen from the number of people surrounding him.

"Hahaha, Mr. Lombardi, I heard Mr. Amalfetano's business has been booming recently, and he even holds a crucial position in Jon City!"

The flattery rang in Mr. Lombardi's ears, making his face flush with pride and self-satisfaction.

Mr. Bartolo Amalfetano is a member of the Italian Mafia, a highly legendary figure. It is said that he was once just a porter in Italy who, by chance, saved the Big Boss of an Italian Mafia family. He was then noticed by the Big Boss and joined the Italian Mafia.

Mr. Amalfetano built a great reputation with his extraordinary courage, but to secure his interests, he personally killed his Big Boss and fled to Mexico. There, he established the Bartolo Family, recruited men, bought guns, and, based on opium cultivation, continuously expanded outwards, gradually becoming a warlord controlling over a thousand people!

Do not underestimate the combat power of a thousand people. During the Boxer Rebellion, the first contingent only numbered two thousand. Mr. Amalfetano possessing a thousand gunmen proves he has at least three thousand logistical personnel, if not more.

Such an achievement is truly legendary. After all, for one person to reach his current status requires not only a sharp mind and extraordinary courage but also immense luck.

Jon City is the closest Mexican city, far from as prosperous as Saint Denis, and even inferior to Blackwater, but it has a significant population.

"Hahaha, Mr. Lombardi, dear sir, I have long admired Mr. Amalfetano. There is no one in all of Mexico more excellent or more admirable than Mr. Amalfetano! I believe Mr. Amalfetano will surely encompass all of Mexico within his grasp. I wonder if I might have the opportunity to fight alongside Mr. Amalfetano and Mr. Lombardi?"

Another fawning individual, seeking status and honor, placed the gold watch he had painstakingly acquired on the table in front of Mr. Lombardi, bowing and smiling.

"Get lost, you damn thing, don't disturb Mr. Lombardi's leisure!" Someone pushed the annoying fellow away, only to then sidle up himself.

"I heard Mr. Amalfetano recently defeated the Mexican government army's sweep again? He even cut off the Jon City sheriff's head, oh, sh*t! This is Mr. Amalfetano, this is the greatest Big Boss!"

Damn it, who said these foreigners couldn't flatter? They're quite good at it, and these are uncultured desperadoes who don't know how to vary their praises. If it were those damned senators and capitalists, they could praise someone to the heavens.

The crowd surrounded Mr. Lombardi, greatly satisfying his vanity and making him as complacent as ever. He laughed heartily and declared loudly, "Hahaha, you are right, Mr. Amalfetano completely disregards the Jon City Government now!

I tell you, next, Mr. Amalfetano will not only act against Jon City again but will also kill a chicken to scare the monkeys, slaughtering a batch of damned officials to show the Jon City Government who the true master of Jon City is!"

A group of desperadoes howled and cheered, all ecstatic, thinking they could once again raid Jon City for spoils.

However, at that very moment, a massive ship's horn suddenly blared from the dock outside the tavern.

"Buzz... buzz... buzz..."

Just by the sound, it was clear this was a big one.

And accompanying the horn was a deafening voice from an electric loudspeaker, so loud that echoes could be heard.

"Static… people of Rhine Harbor, do not be afraid, do not panic, put down your weapons, and walk orderly to the streets.

Our intention is a peaceful occupation of Rhine Harbor; any personnel who make unusual moves will face the most brutal crackdown!"

The immense sound instantly silenced the clamor in the tavern. In an era without large loudspeakers, no sound was as intense as an explosion, but now, the sound outside was deafening, even causing the tavern's windows to tremble slightly.

Everyone in the tavern was nearly scared senseless by the sound, and Mr. Lombardi, who had just been full of pride, his face instantly turned grim.

"Damn it, who is so arrogant?"

"Oh, sh*t! Where did this damned thing come from, trying to make a spectacle and displease Mr. Lombardi! Damn it, I'm going out right now to kill him!"

Before Mr. Lombardi could even roar in anger, someone pulled out a gun, and, full of bluster, quickly walked out of the tavern door with one or two of his subordinates, wanting to show off in front of Mr. Lombardi.

As the tavern door opened, three people had just stepped outside.

"Boom!!!"

Accompanied by a deafening explosion, a shell slammed directly onto the tavern door.

The violent explosion left no one standing at the tavern door unscathed; they were directly blown into scattered limbs and severed arms. A huge hole was blown open in the entire tavern, finally allowing the people inside to see the scene on the dock outside.

At Rhine Harbor, huge warships had somehow already docked, their massive bodies almost filling the entire pier.

Countless cannons on the warships were already aimed at every street and every house within Rhine Harbor, densely packed. Gunmen in uniform, each carrying brand new rifles, had formed lines and were rapidly disembarking from the warships, quickly taking cover behind the surrounding structures in the harbor.

And in the very center of Rhine Harbor, an oil Tank had its cargo hold wide open, with massive steel plates connecting to the Rhine Harbor road.

Black, smoky steel fortresses, one after another, rumbled with the roar of their engines as they drove down the steel plates from the oil Tank. Their massive bodies and the coldness of the steel sent shivers down everyone's spines.

These enormous steel creations seemed invincible; they paid no attention to the road ahead. After driving off the dock, they simply crushed forward, flattening houses they encountered and running over people directly. Their dark muzzles roared, firing shells that turned several desperadoes trying to escape into the woods into blood mist.

When had this damned group of desperadoes in Rhine Harbor ever seen such a large-scale military deployment?

Few had even been fortunate enough to witness a group battle of one or two hundred people.

When faced with a police encirclement, they might have the courage to resist, as they could try to match firepower.

But at this moment, seeing the organized steel forces outside, they had no thought of resistance, only deep shock and fear.

Even the Van der Linde Gang would lose all their confidence to resist in the face of such a terrifying display.

"People of Rhine Harbor, put down your weapons and walk orderly to the streets. Any personnel who make unusual moves will face our most brutal crackdown!"

The roar of the electric loudspeaker sounded again, and with the piercing sound, over a thousand gunmen who had just disembarked from the warships had completely surrounded the entire Rhine Harbor. Every intersection was guarded, and there were gunmen outside every house.

The steel fortresses made a piercing sound as they circled Rhine Harbor.

If they didn't come out of their rooms after three shouts, these Tanks would directly flatten the houses, crushing the people inside.

If a Tank couldn't crush a house, artillery would be brought in directly to collapse the entire structure by firing at the entrance.

Mr. Lombardi, who had just been boasting about how awesome his family's Big Boss was, was struck in the face with a rifle butt by a gunman, knocking out two teeth. His face quickly swelled up like a pig's head.

"Hurry up, Mr. Van der Linde doesn't have time to wait for you this long!"

A group of desperadoes who had just been bragging were like little chicks, utterly defenseless. They were pushed by Mr. Van der Linde's forces, forced to kneel on the ground, hands clasped behind their heads.

The smoke of battle in Rhine Harbor had barely risen before the curtain fell, but for the warlords of Mexico, they were about to suffer greatly.