Reborn in 1878: America's Number One Bandit

Chapter 54 This is the attitude of the Pinkerton Detective Agency
The luxurious private room at the Pacific Union Club was filled with smoke.

A group of well-dressed bankers, railroad tycoons, and mining owners sat around a long table.

A railway company director with a bruised chin slammed a newspaper on the table.

"This is the greatest humiliation Pinkerton has suffered since the Civil War... no, the entire American law enforcement system!"

The question is, will they pay?

Another bald mine owner rubbed his hands together: "One hundred thousand US dollars, that's no small sum."

"Pay?"

The railway director sneered, "Are you crazy? They're Pinkerton! Their motto is 'We never fail!' If they bow down to a bunch of Irish thugs and pay the ransom, their reputation will be ruined!"

"Tomorrow, Mexicans, Italians, and even the Chinese laborers under our own command will follow suit!"

"Should we hire other people or just pay the robbers their wages?"

These words silenced everyone present.

They hired Pinkerton not for force, but for certainty, a guarantee that their troubles would be resolved.

If this guarantee fails, then the huge security costs they pay every year will become a joke.

"But that's still dozens of lives..."

"Life?"

“In Pinkerton’s books, that might just be a necessary loss. Their reputation is worth far more than those lives!”

The other side of the city.

At the dock, a place teeming with all sorts of people, the discussions are much more direct and crude.

"FUCK!"

An Irish laborer, reeking of alcohol and his face flushed with excitement, exclaimed, "Did you see that? It was our men! It was our men who did it! They made those Pinkerton bastards kneel down like animals!"

"Keep your voice down, Danny!"

His companion tugged at him nervously: "Do you want to be arrested as a gang member?"

"What are you afraid of!"

Danny gulped down a mouthful of beer and slurred, "It's in the newspapers! The Pinkerton Wolverines! Listen to that name, how damn impressive! And what happened? They got smoked to death by us Irish men!"

A German carpenter frowned and interjected, "I just can't understand why those bandits are so good at fighting."

“The people in Pinkerton are all elites who came from the military.”

"Who knows?"

A lame man lowered his voice: "I heard they're from the Fenian Brotherhood, devils who fought their way out of the British battlefields!"

"Who cares what kind of devil it is!"

Danny said smugly, "Now, everyone in California knows that we Irish are not to be trifled with!"

His words displeased a nearby American farmer.

The farmer spat out his tobacco: "How bad can they be? I'm already ready to fire those Irish workers on my farm."

"Who knows if they'll pull something like this on me one night? It's not only not cost-effective, but it's also so dangerous!"

"Hey! That's discrimination!" Danny immediately retorted angrily.

"This isn't discrimination, it's risk aversion!"

The farmer retorted without backing down: "Is this just a rare exception among a small group of Irish people? Who can guarantee that? Anyway, I'm not willing to gamble with my property and my life!"

"Compared to you, I'd rather believe those yellow-skinned monkeys; at least they work hard and don't dare to rebel!"

……

California Chronicle

In Editor-in-Chief Martin's office.

The newspapers sold like hotcakes, requiring three reprints, but still couldn't keep up with demand!
His chubby face was practically splitting open with a wide grin.

"Good! Great!"

He patted Jerry and Peter on the shoulder: "You two are geniuses! Born journalists! You've done a great job for the newspaper!"

Jerry and Peter exchanged a glance, secretly delighted. The moment of promotion, a raise, becoming a full-fledged reporter, marrying a beautiful and wealthy woman, and reaching the pinnacle of life was about to arrive!

Martin pulled out two thick stacks of money from the pile and stuffed them into their hands.

"This is your reward!"

Martin said generously, "Take it, go to the best brothel in Chinatown, find two of the prettiest girls, this is what you deserve!"

The two thanked him repeatedly with great excitement and were about to reach for the money.

“But…” Martin changed the subject: “A true warrior is never satisfied with a small victory, right?”

He leaned forward, painting a rosy picture for the two men: "Right now, the eyes of all of California, even the whole of America, are focused on Marin County! That's the eye of the storm! And you, my two bravest knights, are the ones closest to the storm!"

The smiles on Jerry and Peter's faces gradually froze.

"I've decided to give you another chance."

Martin's voice was full of seduction, "Take this money as your funding and go back to Marin County! Dig up even more juicy scoops! The militia's movements, the bandits' hideouts, Pinkerton's revenge—as long as you can bring back another headline like today's, one that will drive the whole city crazy, then..."

He paused for a moment, whetting their appetites.

"The position of deputy editor-in-chief is yours!"

Jerry and Peter's hearts sank.

The capitalists' faces are truly ugly.

This is pushing them to their limits!

They instinctively wanted to refuse, but upon reflection, they realized they had no other choice.

Either take the money and go back to that place where you could lose your head at any moment.

Either get out of the newspaper now and go back to being a penniless nobody.

The two could only hang their heads and accept the task.

……

Chicago, headquarters of the Pinkerton National Detective Agency.

After receiving the newspapers and photos from San Francisco, Pinkerton was so angry that he fell ill on the spot.

The firm's power temporarily fell to his two sons—William Pinkerton and Robert Pinkerton.

The air in the huge conference room was thick with the smell of tobacco.

Robert spread the newspaper on the table.

The photo, with its bloodshot eyes, stung the nerves of everyone present.

Robert remained relatively calm: "This is the most serious and blatant provocation we have ever suffered since our founding."

"It's more than just a provocation!"

William, the older brother, had an even more fiery temper. He slammed his fist on the table: "This is war! Those Irish bastards, they're not just robbing and killing, they want to wipe us out!"

“My father always said, ‘We’re not selling ghostwriters, we’re selling reputation! It’s about making customers believe that as long as they pay, the problem will definitely be solved!’ Now, that reputation is being publicly humiliated!”

"If we pay the ransom, we are admitting to the world that Pinkerton can be defeated and can be blackmailed!"

"What will be the consequences? If they extort 100,000 today, another group of thugs will extort 200,000 tomorrow!"

"At this rate, what's the point of us even working?!"

Therefore, the ransom cannot be paid.

Robert picked up the thread and concluded: "Not a single cent. We cannot show the slightest weakness; bowing our heads means destruction."

"What about Sullivan and the others?"

One of the managers tentatively spoke up: "Those are all our brothers!"

William lit another thick cigar.

"Brothers? They are the company's assets. Now, those assets have become liabilities and are damaging the company's core values."

"What we need to do now is fight back! If necessary, we must be determined to make tough decisions!"

"Immediately mobilize the Avengers and Iron Fist teams!"

(End of this chapter)