North America 1849, from Gold Rush to Warlord

Chapter 186 A desperate gamble!
After finishing all his business in San Diego, Azu personally led the Coast Guard fleet and the National Guard on their journey back to San Francisco.

Behind the coast guard fleet was a huge ocean-going fleet!

This fleet of nearly forty ocean-going vessels consisted entirely of ships that had been seized by the Pacific Fleet over the past month.

This fleet carried over 20,000 tons of various supplies and nearly 20,000 Chinese laborers.

Also returning was the church medical team led by Archbishop Evan.

On the flagship of the Coast Guard fleet, the Zhenyuan, Archbishop Evan was facing Azu.

“Azu, it’s already May, and the California incident has been basically resolved. Shouldn’t we prepare to go to the Vatican?”

Archbishop Evan looked at Azu with a smile: "After all, receiving a formal invitation to visit from the Holy See is an honor for any politician!"

"Although you are not a believer of my Lord, your trip to the Vatican will surely bring you considerable prestige among millions of believers."

"If you can also obtain a noble title personally conferred by the Pope, hehe, then your political prestige will definitely reach an unprecedented height!"

Ah Zu was indeed a little tempted to go to the Vatican.

If it were for no other reason than that if one could actually obtain a noble title conferred by the Pope, the effect it could have would be considerable.

Azu himself didn't care about this title, which was merely an honorary noble title without any fiefdom.

However, unfortunately, this is what this era values!
The Papal States today are not just the small Vatican City!
More than half of the land in northern Italy was under the rule of the Papal States.

This was a complete nation comprised of several feudal lords, small kingdoms, and the Roman Catholic Church.

Instead of the Vatican of later generations, which is only a few hundred meters long and wide, and only a few hundred acres in area, and is no bigger than a booger!

Therefore, in this era, a noble title conferred by the Pope was absolutely prestigious.

Not only did old Europe place great importance on this noble title conferred by the Pope, but even the New World, where America is located, was eager to obtain this title!

The majority of the old European immigrants who came to this new continent were people from the lower classes who could not survive in Europe. Only a very small number were the worst-off noble branches or descendants.

In this new continent, regardless of how well or poorly one fares, one is inherently inferior to the aristocracy of old Europe.

In the eyes of old Europe, these immigrants who came to the New World were a bunch of uncultured, uneducated, rude, vulgar, and lawless scoundrels.

In Azu's future plans, he will inevitably have to deal with a lot of things in old Europe sooner or later.

Having this noble title conferred by the Pope would indeed make things much more convenient.

At least I won't be discriminated against anymore!
In America, this papal bestowal of a noble title is equally valid.

Those American elites take pride in currying favor with the aristocracy and in acquiring even a trace of aristocratic air!

Azu recalled many strange tales he had seen in later generations.

In the past, a large number of old European swindlers disguised themselves as nobles and went to America to commit fraud.

These old swindlers, as long as they slightly reveal their false aristocratic status, will have American nouveau riche flocking to them and willingly opening their wallets.

For example, a Scottish conman named Gregor McGregor claimed to be the ruler of a fictitious kingdom and easily swindled American nouveau riche out of their fortunes.

With such sages as our predecessors, why shouldn't our ancestor give himself a real noble title?
Azu thought for a moment and said, "Archbishop, we were under blockade for a long time and didn't have time to send our own ships to wait for us in the Caribbean."

"We will stick to our previous plan: send a ship there first, and then set off in June."

"This way, we can save a lot of time at sea. What do you think?"

Archbishop Evan nodded: "Alright! The Church has given you a formal invitation to visit, which is only for this year. The month of departure is not so important."

Azu nodded and said, "It's such a rare opportunity for us to go to Europe!"

"Since we're on this trip, we might as well take the opportunity to conduct an on-site investigation of the development situation in various aspects of Europe!"

"And we also need to promote our Huamei Company's products as much as possible on this trip."

“Especially penicillin, although it has gained some sales in Europe through your church’s channels.”

“But this is not enough!”

"Our penicillin production capacity is expanding, producing at least ten million vials a year. The American market will eventually become saturated, and we need to develop overseas markets ourselves."

Azu pondered, “In terms of population size, China is of course the largest. But in terms of consumption power, Europe is undoubtedly the world’s number one.”

"Therefore, on this trip, we also need to find suitable business partners in Europe."

"Furthermore, on this trip, we also need to make direct contact with the governments of various European countries as much as possible."

"Their support is also very important for our future plans."

Archbishop Evan looked at Azu with slight surprise: "I didn't expect you to have so many plans for a trip to Europe."

Azu laughed and said, "Of course! Archbishop, you don't think I'm just after that noble title, do you?"

"You know, a trip to Europe takes at least half a year."

"A mere noble title conferred by the Pope is not enough to make me waste so much time."
-
Two weeks later, in Washington, D.C., in the eastern United States, at the White House.

At this moment, the White House was shrouded in a gloomy atmosphere!

Senate Speaker Roberts, pulling the doctor who had just come out of the presidential living room aside, asked in a deep voice, "Dr. Duke, how is the president's condition now?"

"Sigh...!" Dr. Duke sighed softly, "For now, the President's condition is relatively stable! But...!"

"But what?" Speaker Roberts pressed on impatiently.

"However, the two bullets used to assassinate the president were poisoned...!"

Dr. Duke's expression somber: "One bullet pierced the president's lung, and another bullet damaged his liver."

"Although these two bullets were not directly fatal, the potent poison on them is a very troublesome problem!"

"We have removed the bullet and are currently testing it to determine the type of toxic substance."

"If we can identify the type of poison and find the corresponding antidote, the president's life might still be saved!"

"If the type of poison cannot be identified, or even if it is identified but there is no antidote, then...!"

Speaker Roberts was even more impatient: "What will happen then?"

"That toxin will continue to erode the president's internal organs, and the president's vitality will continue to decline!"

Dr. Duke shook his head slightly and said, "Even if we do everything we can to prolong the president's life, it will be very difficult for him to come back to life in the end...!"

"hiss……!"

Speaker Roberts took a deep breath and continued in a low voice, "In your opinion, Dr. Duke, how many days does the President have left to live...?"

“Hmm…?” Dr. Duke gave Speaker Roberts a strange look. “Mr. Speaker, if we can find a targeted antidote, the President might still be saved.”

Isn't it too early for you to ask this question now?

Faced with Dr. Duke's questioning, Speaker Roberts paused for a moment before realizing that he had been far too hasty.

"Alas!" Speaker Roberts sighed deeply, "I'm sorry, Dr. Duke, but I'm just too worried about the President's safety...!"

“That damned assassin…!” Speaker Roberts cursed angrily, “How dare he, a member of the Presidential Guard, attempt to assassinate the President!”

As he spoke, Speaker Roberts' gaze fell on the captain of the Presidential Guard: "Captain Lyman, what exactly happened? How did you manage to let such an assassin infiltrate the Presidential Guard?"

Captain Lyman, his face dark, replied, "Mr. Speaker, that Oliver, he's also a veteran of the Presidential Guard!"

"Oliver served in the presidential guard for fifteen years, protecting several presidents."

"For the past fifteen years, he has been diligent and conscientious in his duties! Who could have imagined that such an old man in the guard would openly assassinate President Fillmore...!" "If it weren't for the other guards who seized his gun in time, the president would be dead by now!"

Speaker Roberts asked coldly, "Where is that Oliver? I want to interrogate him myself!"

Captain Lyman slowly shook his head: "I'm sorry, Mr. Speaker, he has already committed suicide by poisoning himself...!"

"He committed suicide by poisoning himself... Humph! What were you guys thinking... How are we supposed to investigate this case now?"

Despite saying that, Speaker Roberts breathed a long sigh of relief; a huge weight had finally been lifted from his shoulders.

Speaker Roberts pressed on, "Have you figured out why Oliver attempted to assassinate the President?"

Lyman continued to shake his head: "I'm sorry, Mr. Speaker, as of now, we have absolutely no clue... Oliver seems to have suddenly gone mad...!"

"Suddenly went mad...?"

Roberts thought to himself, "That's a good reason."

Roberts continued, "The President was openly assassinated and remains unconscious!"

"And the Vice President is still in the far west!"

"According to the Constitution of the United States, I should temporarily assume the duties of the president!"

As he spoke, Roberts’s gaze fell one by one on the faces of the Chief Justice of the Supreme Court, the Speaker of the House, the Secretary of State, the Commander-in-Chief of the Army, and so on.

"Gentlemen, does anyone have any objections?"

After exchanging silent glances, the group of high-ranking officials finally spoke up, with the Chief Justice of the Supreme Court replying, "Of course, Speaker Roberts, this is your constitutional responsibility!"

"During your term as president, you may exercise presidential powers, except for major personnel appointments, declarations of war, and other important events!"

"You may assume the presidential powers until the President recovers his health, or the Vice President returns to Washington...!"

Upon hearing this, Speaker Roberts and Army Commander-in-Chief Winfield Scott exchanged a deep look.

They saw joy in each other's eyes.

Because they knew that President Fillmore would never recover his health!
The poison on the bullets was a specially prepared mixture of poisons from the Freemason Temple of Solomon.

It was a poison made up of a mixture of various highly toxic substances, and even the Freemasons themselves did not have an antidote.

The president's death was only a matter of time!
A few days earlier or later won't make a big difference!
And that Vice President Lincoln is most likely not coming back either!
Master Powell personally orchestrated a series of assassination plots and deployed assassins, both in California and on the way back.

Even if that vice president had incredible luck and was incredibly resilient, it would have been impossible for him to return to Washington alive after such a series of assassination attempts!
But at that moment, someone rushed up to Commander-in-Chief Winfield Scott and whispered a few words in his ear.

Upon hearing these words, Commander-in-Chief Winfield Scott's expression changed slightly, and he tilted his head slightly toward Speaker Roberts.

Speaker Roberts, understanding the unspoken message, followed Winfield Scott into an empty room.

“Roberts, according to reliable intelligence, just a few days ago, Lincoln crossed the Isthmus of Panama!”

"What...?" Roberts was taken aback and couldn't help but lower his voice to exclaim, "How is this possible?"

"We've made the most meticulous preparations in California and on the Isthmus of Panama...!"

“Especially in the Isthmus of Panama, we deployed over a hundred people in three waves for a series of assassinations. How could he possibly still be alive?”

Commander-in-Chief Winfield Scott said with a grim face, "That damned Chinaman not only sent as many as two hundred elite troops, but also sent his best men to Lincoln's side."

"Our assassination plans have suffered one setback after another!"

"By now, Lincoln's ship should have reached Miami, Florida."

Roberts said urgently, "President, what do we do next? We absolutely cannot let that Lincoln return to Washington alive...!"

"Indeed, we absolutely cannot let him come back alive! Otherwise, our plan will have failed once again!"

Winfield Scott pondered, "Now that Lincoln is surrounded by so many guards, assassination is virtually impossible!"

"Assassination is not an option? Then what can we do?"

Winfield Scott gritted his teeth and said, "Then we have no choice but to use the navy, deploy the ships of the home fleet, and sink Lincoln's ship at sea...!"

"But the home fleet is currently in the hands of that old bastard Paparo King. We have difficulty mobilizing the home fleet...!"

"Hmph...!" Winfield Scott sneered, "He is indeed the commander of the Home Fleet, but can he really take complete control of the massive Home Fleet in such a short time?"

"It's not too difficult to deploy two or three warships independently by utilizing our personnel in the home fleet!"

Speaker Roberts said with considerable anxiety, "With only two or three warships, it's too difficult to accurately intercept and sink Lincoln's ship on the vast ocean!"

"But to mobilize more warships, we need to unleash the full power of the organization, regardless of the consequences...!"

Winfield Scott also fell into deep thought: "I think we've really reached a point where we have to do whatever it takes...!"

"Once the arrow is released, there's no turning back... Since we've already started, we must finish it completely!"

"I need to return to headquarters in Philadelphia immediately... We need to mobilize all of the organization's resources immediately...!"

With that, Winfield Scott strode out: "Roberts, the situation in Washington is now in your hands."

"And Lincoln, leave him to me...!"

After saying that, Winfield Scott's bulky figure disappeared into the room.
-
Late that night, in Philadelphia, at the Freemason headquarters!

Upon receiving the news, the Freemason Round Table masters gathered here to discuss the ultimate way to get rid of Lincoln.

Winfield Scott, who had just returned by train, personally chaired the roundtable meeting.

Apart from Speaker Roberts, all twelve other Round Table Masters were present.

With time of the essence, President Winfield Scott went straight to the point: "Gentlemen, you should all understand what it would mean for our organization if Lincoln were to return to Washington alive!"

"That means that if Lincoln becomes president, he will definitely launch the most insane revenge against our organization!"

"Lincoln was not only a staunch ally of Fillmore, but his methods and will were far more resolute and ruthless than Fillmore's!"

"If Lincoln had become president, he wouldn't have needed to investigate at all; he would have known who was trying to assassinate him and Fillmore."

"With Lincoln becoming president, our organization will face an unprecedented survival crisis!"

Winfield Scott's murderous gaze swept across the faces of the other Round Table Masters, finally settling on Master Powell's face: "Powell, now is not the time to hold you accountable for the failed assassination attempt."

"But I think you should reflect on how all of this came about as soon as possible?"

Master Powell still wore that sinister expression: "President, we underestimated that Chinaman's relationship with Lincoln!"

"That Chinaman is willing to go to such lengths to protect Lincoln because he wants to use Lincoln to exact revenge on us!"

"That's precisely why Lincoln couldn't live...!"

Winfield Scott nodded: "Indeed! We forced that Chinaman and Lincoln into an unspoken alliance!"

"But right now, besides mobilizing warships from our home fleet, what other options do we have to take down Lincoln?"

Powell's chilling voice continued, "Heh, even if he returns to Washington alive, even if he becomes president, so what?"

“Once he returns to Washington and loses that Chinaman’s protection, can’t we just kill him at any time?”

Winfield Scott thought for a moment, then slowly shook his head: "No! Once Lincoln becomes president, there are simply too many uncontrollable factors!"

"We must do everything possible to take him down at sea."

"We could even attribute Lincoln's death entirely to the shipwreck, minimizing the impact on public opinion across America."

(End of this chapter)