Guten Tag

The German, who was resting, was woken up by his friend, but he showed no anger at being disturbed.

This couple had very stable personalities, which was evident in the game.

That's right, they were the Germans whom Arthur and Charles were supposed to rescue, the ones whose family owned a gold mine.

However, now that Mr. Van der Linde had arrived and cleared out all the gangs in New Hanover and Lemoyne, this couple hadn't experienced being captured.

Their original plan was to open a gold shop in Saint Denis, using their family's influence to establish themselves in America and then steadily develop; this was a very typical method for a family to expand overseas.

But Mr. Van der Linde's arrival and Valentine's changes made them realize that living and developing in Valentine might be a very important opportunity, so they came to Valentine.

Friedrich left after saying goodbye and went back to continue managing his tavern.

Joseph, still in the room, didn't even dare to change out of his pajamas, for fear of delaying the esteemed Mr. Van der Linde's business; he pushed open the door and walked out in his pajamas.

However, he happened to bump into Strauss, also in his pajamas, which saved them both from awkwardness.

"Sir, gentlemen (German)"

Joseph quickly bowed to Arthur and John, who were standing at the door.

He recognized Arthur and John, but he couldn't speak English.

Arthur and John nodded slightly; English and German seemed to have a slight commonality, allowing them to barely understand a word or two.

However, Mr. Strauss was still needed as a translator.

Mr. Strauss tidied his pajamas to appear more formal.

Although this old moneylender looked like a typical squid, he was a true man. The Van der Linde Gang's assets were now under his control, which had given Mr. Strauss a significant increase in presence lately.

Even though he was wearing pajamas at this moment, he exuded an air of stern dignity.

"Oh, hello, sir, I am Joseph. May I ask what Mr. Van der Linde needs me to do?" Joseph asked Strauss with exceptional politeness.

He could tell from Strauss's appearance that he was a typical Austrian.

That meant his ability to speak German was the key to their communication.

As expected of a businessman, his insight was truly keen.

"Mr. Joseph, you can call me Strauss. We are indeed here on Mr. Van der Linde's behalf. We would like to inquire if you, your family, or your friends know anyone who can contact a German officer? The higher his rank, the better, and he needs to be able to come to New Hanover.

Of course, the number of personnel can be a bit more."

Strauss didn't mention in advance that Mr. Van der Linde wanted to sell arms. After all, Mr. Joseph might not know a very high-ranking officer. If he revealed the intention to sell arms now and it turned out Joseph didn't know such an officer, it would be a leak of information.

Arthur and John stood on either side of the doorway, their eyes darting around, putting immense pressure on Mr. Joseph.

A hint of hesitation appeared on his face.

They certainly knew officers; Joseph's family was very influential in Germany, otherwise, they wouldn't have controlled a gold mine.

But this kind of connection was part of their family's foundation, and he wasn't comfortable revealing it. Besides, he claimed to be sent to America to expand the family's prosperity, but in reality, it was almost like an exile.

After all, they would be settled in America from now on, essentially separated from the main family. They might be able to maintain contact for one or two generations, but by the third or fourth generation, it would be no different from normal business partners.

If he said he knew officers but couldn't summon them with his own status, it would be equivalent to disrespecting Mr. Van der Linde.

After a slight hesitation, Joseph finally spoke: "Officers... To be honest, sir. We are people sent abroad by our family. Although our family has some connections in the military, for me, these connections are not easy to use. If I try to do this with my personal power, there's a high chance I won't be able to get someone to come here.

You know, America is still seen as a wild place full of cowboys in the eyes of Europeans."

Joseph was right; America was still looked down upon at this stage. Even though the East had developed quite luxuriously, Europeans still considered it an underdeveloped country.

Beyond that, his statement had another meaning: without sufficient profit, it would be difficult for him to summon an officer using only his personal connections. Others wouldn't travel thousands of miles to America just because of his family ties.

Hearing Joseph's answer, Strauss, on the contrary, breathed a sigh of relief.

He then said, "Alright, Mr. Joseph, since you have connections, I can tell you about the matter now.

However, this matter is of great importance, and we, the Van der Linde Gang, require you not to discuss it externally."

"Of course, Mr. Strauss!" Joseph nodded solemnly.

In reality, there was nothing for Mr. Van der Linde to keep secret; after Tank came out, there would be planes, after planes, missiles, and after missiles, the hearts of millions in the West.

However, this confidentiality clause was very important to the German, as it concerned their future military reserves.

If Joseph hadn't seen Tank with his own eyes, merely knowing this information probably wouldn't have warranted any confidentiality measures for him. And the officers who came to inspect Tank along this line would likely be monitored by Germany upon their return.

"It's like this, Mr. Van der Linde's main business is producing arms, I think you should know this information." Strauss didn't think no one in New Hanover and Lemoyne knew.

Mr. Van der Linde didn't hide anything.

As expected, Mr. Joseph nodded and said, "Of course! Could it be that Mr. Van der Linde wants to sell arms to Germany?"

"Yes, Mr. Joseph, and it's high-end weaponry, arms that no other country in the world currently possesses. What exactly it is, I don't think you'd want to know. The actual items for sale are best personally inspected by a high-ranking German officer once he arrives.

As for how to attract those officers, I think you just need to tell them this: the weapons we sell will be essential for future battlefields, strategic-level weapons. Any side without these weapons will face only destruction.

By the way, this weapon is very large and heavy, so I don't think we can send you a finished product.

True cooperation requires German officers to come and observe it themselves, and the credit for discovering this weapon will absolutely earn them a promotion!"

Mr. Strauss felt that money wasn't the right way to sway these German soldiers; a promotion was most suitable.

This way, when these German officers hear that merely discovering this weapon and reporting back could get them promoted, regardless of whether they believe it or not, they will at least come to take a look.

Especially since Germany already had thoughts of starting a war, anything that could strengthen their military power would drive them crazy.

Dutch had already said that he would sell them gasoline Tanks, and since Germany is small and lacks resources, they would undoubtedly have to buy oil from him later.

Selling both weapons and oil, and also advancing his ultimate plan, this was truly killing three birds with one stone.

Regarding Mr. Van der Linde, Joseph dared not be negligent.

Arthur took out the photos Dutch had him take of Tank from his backpack and handed them to Joseph.

"These are the specific photos and specifications of this weapon, already sealed. Remember, Mr. Joseph, you cannot know about this matter yet, so I hope the seal on these photos remains intact until they reach Germany.

I believe the existence of these photos and specific data should be enough to draw attention from Germany."

Arthur kindly reminded him.

This was truly out of pure goodwill. For Germany, the more confidential this business was, the better, but for Mr. Van der Linde, it made no difference whether it was confidential or not; no one dared to provoke him in the West. His Tank, planes, and bunker complexes were not to be trifled with.

If Joseph curiously opened it himself, he would surely be monitored by Germany once the business started, and even undergo a top-to-bottom purge.

However, this had nothing to do with Arthur and his companions; after finally returning, they certainly wanted to play for a few days.

"Hya!"

Arthur and John rode slowly through Valentine, greeting the surrounding populace from time to time.

During this period, the population of Valentine had grown significantly, especially with batches of impoverished people continuously brought in from Mexico, which made Valentine even more bustling.

However, while bringing people from Mexico could increase the labor force, it could also cause some dissatisfaction.

To address these dissatisfactions, Dutch always published various news about national integration in the newspapers.

Fortunately, America was originally an immigrant country, and its xenophobia was much less than that of other countries, especially with Valentine in a stage of rapid development. No boss disliked more consumers, and with their leading acceptance, the situation within Valentine remained relatively stable.

"Arthur, shall we go for a drink at the bar?" John, on horseback, invited Arthur, who was beside him. He now always liked to eat good food and drink good drinks, showing signs of laziness.

"Sh*t, Marston, in two more years, you'll definitely eat like a pig!" Arthur cursed him.

Arthur had no desire for gluttony; his attention was mainly focused on the situation in Valentine.

As the third-in-command of the gang, he felt he should observe the development of various places more, and if there were any problems, he could report them to Dutch promptly.

John, having been cursed by Arthur, felt it was pointless. He thought about it and decided he should just keep quiet.

The two rode their horses, walking and looking around Valentine. They had barely gone two steps when they heard familiar shouting behind them.

"Arthur, John!"

A kid, holding a wine bottle and stumbling as he walked, came out of the tavern, laughing loudly and chasing after Arthur and John's horses.

This damned old parasite had obviously drunk too much again.

"Oh, sh*t! Why are you here? Uncle." Arthur turned his head and couldn't help but curse upon seeing his appearance.

"I remember Dutch told you to be responsible for farming around Valentine, didn't he? You damned old parasite really needs a lesson!" Arthur dismounted from his horse and angrily walked towards Uncle.

"Oh, Arthur, why do you always not believe me, Arthur. Mr. Pearson and I have already done our work very well! Oh, damn it, you're really a man without taste, Arthur. Oh, now I feel I might prefer this expressionless blockhead riding on the horse."

Uncle stretched out his hand to stop Arthur's hand that was about to grab his collar, then smiled at John, who was on his horse with an expressionless face.

"You damned horse manure egg." John said expressionlessly.

"Sh*t, now I don't like you either." Uncle's collar was grabbed by Arthur, his body swaying, and the wine bottle in his hand kept spilling wine.

"Damn it, how much did you drink?" Arthur smelled the alcohol and stench on him, uncomfortably letting go of his collar, his face full of disdain.

"I didn't drink much! I've only been here... eight days!" Uncle stretched out his fingers with hazy eyes, not knowing if he even knew how many fingers he had.

"Oh!" Arthur was utterly helpless. He looked at the stable boy who was cleaning at the tavern entrance and said, "Please take him to a room to rest! Remember, don't let him drink any more, not a single drop!

Damn it, Uncle, if you don't finish your work, you won't get another sip of wine!"

"Damn it, Arthur, I've already finished my work! I've assigned daily tasks to every worker, and I just need to check the completion at night. Pearson will take care of all this. Damn it, Arthur, you're so heartless, you've really broken this old man's heart!" Uncle swayed, breaking free from Arthur's restraint, complaining, then stumbled after the stable boy into the tavern.

"Sigh!" Arthur sighed deeply.

In fact, sometimes he agreed with Mac's idea: what use were these old parasites in the gang?

But if he were really to remove Uncle, he himself couldn't bear to.

His gaze again fell on John, who was still maintaining his expressionless, iron-faced, cold-man demeanor, and his sigh grew a little louder.

One idiot, one drunkard—he suddenly felt that it was truly not easy for Dutch to lead them this far!

Just as his thought arose, another familiar figure emerged from the tavern.

"Arthur, John! Hey, come over and drink." Karen, holding a wine bottle, half-walked, half-crawled out of the tavern, her face full of silly giggles.

"Oh!" Arthur felt his heart clench and his head throb.

"Oh, Karen!" Arthur shook his head hard, then quickly walked over.

"Sh*t, why are you here too? Damn it, how much have you drunk again?" Arthur angrily picked Karen up from the ground, then supported her and walked towards the horses.

"Oh, Arthur, hehehe, Arthur, oh, you damned thing, don't think I don't know you always like to stare at me..." Karen, tipsy, leaned on Arthur's chest, speaking nonsense.

Arthur's old face flushed, and he angrily said, "Karen, don't talk nonsense!"

John, on horseback, had a strange look in his eyes. Arthur, enraged and embarrassed, said, "Sh*t! I feel like the gang really needs to be managed properly now! Damn it, every single one of them has turned into a drunkard!"

Actually, it was nothing; for useless people like Uncle, drinking was their only pastime.

They were still decent; they didn't bully men or women, didn't abuse their power, just liked to drink and act crazy when drunk. From the perspective of the Valentine people, they were quite cute.

Arthur put Karen on his horse, then rode with John towards Hope Ranch.

The reason for Karen's drinking remained unknown. In Arthur's view, it was most likely due to boredom from having nothing to do.

Thinking of this, he felt he should perhaps discuss these issues with Dutch.

He needed to find something for everyone in the gang to do. Now they couldn't kill or rob, nor did they need to gather information, and they had endless money every day. If they weren't given something to do, they would all turn into drunkards.

This was Arthur, Arthur who thought about the gang at all times. After all, this was his home.