Reborn in 1878: America's Number One Bandit

Chapter 58 396 Bottles of Mercury Acquired

Midnight at the New Almadin Mercury Mine.

The massive steam lift had long since ceased operation, leaving only the cooled boiler, which occasionally emitted a weary groan of metal.

In the distance, the mountain ridges, under the moonlight, are outlined as silhouettes resembling the backs of giant beasts.

All sounds are silent.

Inside a cave, Lawson's consciousness quietly descended.

Time slowly moved toward midnight.

It refreshed one minute before midnight.

Deep within the cave, on the open ground chosen as the coordinate point, the air began to distort in a way that was imperceptible to the naked eye.

Forty-seven tall and robust figures appeared silently.

Then, the clock struck midnight, and a new day began.

The slots that Lawson refreshed were also reset.

Forty-seven more figures appeared.

Around midnight, within a minute, ninety-four assassins were already poised to strike.

With more people, we have greater confidence in our actions!

The prepared weapons were quickly distributed.

Although the guns they smuggled in could only arm thirty of them, that was enough.

The mine itself has an armory.

The assassins covered their mouths and noses with pre-prepared crimson scarves, and the operation began!
The primary targets were the mine's security post and weapons depot.

It was a sturdy, stand-alone building with thick iron bars welded to the windows.

At the entrance, two drowsy guards were dozing against the wall, Winchester rifles leaning against their legs.

Two dark figures darted out silently from the shadows.

The guard had no time to react; he felt a chill in his throat and then fell completely silent.

The shadowy figure dragged the corpse into the darkness.

Soon, more Red Turban assassins silently surged toward the stone house.

The crowbar was quietly inserted into the crack in the door, silently opening the heavy wooden door.

Inside the house, four guards were playing cards.

"FUCK! You cheated again, you fucking!"

A burly man with a thick beard slammed the cards in his hand onto the table.

Before he could finish venting his anger, three sharp blades shot out from the shadows by the door!

"Shhhhhh!"

"Ugh!"

Blood spurted from the throats of all three people simultaneously!
The last guard to react had just opened his mouth and hadn't even had a chance to cry for help when a large hand swiftly and forcefully covered his mouth and nose from behind.

Threat removed.

The armory doors were quickly forced open.

Rows of neat gun racks were filled with brand-new Winchester rifles and Remington shotguns.

The boxes by the wall were filled with bullets.

A commando team of ninety-four men, all fully armed.

By this time, the mine's security team had also realized what was happening, but it was too late.

They were ambushed from both sides by assassins who had been lying in wait and were all wiped out.

Next up is the mercury warehouse.

After dealing with the guards, the heavy iron door was pushed open, and a metallic, pungent smell wafted out.

Inside the warehouse, rows of black cast iron bottles were neatly stacked.

Each iron bottle is about 30 centimeters tall and 13 centimeters in outer diameter.

It doesn't look big, but one bottle weighs a whopping seventy-six pounds!

This is mercury!
The assassins pried open the wax seals and caps of the metal bottles one by one.

Without any need for handling, the moment the bottle cap was opened, a force that only Lawson could sense rapidly spread throughout the warehouse.

The mercury in the iron bottle then vanished into thin air.

One bottle, two bottles, ten bottles, one hundred bottles...

Based on the previously calculated data, Lawson precisely controlled the amount absorbed.

One cubic meter of mercury weighs approximately 13.5 tons.

Based on each iron bottle's capacity of 76 pounds, he would need approximately 396 bottles.

The moment when all 396 metal bottles become empty!
[Upgrade requirements met!]

Lawson has successfully advanced. But some things still need to be settled.

The sudden evaporation of so much mercury could easily arouse suspicion.

They also need to create the illusion that they've been robbed!
Another team of assassins, who had been waiting in the wings, had already obtained more than a dozen horse-drawn carriages from the mine's transport group.

The assassins worked in pairs and quickly began loading the nearly four hundred empty iron bottles onto the carriage.

Although these metal cylinders were empty, they were still quite heavy, and when they hit the car floor, they made a loud clanging sound that could be heard far away.

It doesn't matter anymore.

The armed forces in the mining area have now been dismantled by them.

The only road leading out of the mine had long been controlled by another group of assassins.

A dozen or so horse-drawn carriages, laden with spoils of war, sped away down the mountain road.

Another squad of twenty elite assassins has stormed the mine's office area.

The complex of several two-story wooden buildings served as the residences of the mine manager and senior management.

The assassins headed straight for Mr. Horton, the mine manager.

The sturdy oak door was kicked into pieces.

The bedroom was a complete mess.

A man who was as fat as a white pig was barefoot and frantically trying to climb out of the window.

Hearing the loud bang of the door being kicked open, he was so frightened that he slipped and fell heavily back to the ground.

The reason the assassins appeared here was because of a conversation that one of the assassins, who was lying in wait during the day, overheard.

Several major clients from San Francisco have just paid a deposit to purchase the next batch of mercury.

The huge sum of money was not moved in time and was locked in the finance office on the second floor of the office building.

"Do not kill me!"

Seeing that escape was hopeless, Horton immediately surrendered: "The money belongs to the company! My life is my own! Don't worry, I will cooperate fully! Whatever you want, I will give you!"

The door to the finance office was opened, and inside, a huge safe was crouching in the corner.

"Open it."

Horton quickly stepped forward and shakily dialed the keypad.

He tried twice, but failed both times because his fingers were shaking too badly.

The assassin's gun muzzle pressed against the back of his head.

Horton trembled with fright, but managed to steady himself. Fortunately, he succeeded this time.

Inside the safe were stacks of brand-new Morgan Eagle dollars.

Next to the silver dollar was a thick stack of papers.

Those are bearer bonds issued by the mine.

The assassins swept all the silver dollars and bonds in their sight into the sacks they had brought with them.

Mustering his courage, Horton cautiously asked, "Excuse me, are you the... uh... Irish gang from Marin County?"

The assassin Declan gave a mocking laugh.

He slowly pulled half of the red veil off his face, revealing his high-bridged nose and pale skin typical of Irishmen.

"A gang? Of course not!"

"We are good Irish citizens who have been driven to desperation by you self-righteous bastards!"

"Your governor! Your militia! Burned down our Irish church in Marin County!"

Declan spat all over Horton's face.

"What do you take us Irish for? Pigs you can slaughter at will? Livestock you can drive around as you please? FUCK YOU!!"

"By bullying one of us, you are declaring war on all of us!"

After saying that, Declan ignored the dumbfounded fat man and led his men to carry the money bags away.

After the robbers left, Manager Horton sat slumped on the ground for a full five minutes before he finally came to his senses.

The fear dissipated, and a surge of excitement took over.

He immediately rushed to the telegraph room, running while rapidly devising his words in his mind.

Loss statistics?

Of course we need to collect statistics!
The mercury has been stolen; its value is incalculable! Thirty thousand in cash, twenty thousand in bonds… No! That's not enough!
He's going to give a false report!

Let's say... let's say he was robbed of 60,000 silver dollars! The extra 30,000 naturally became his "deserved" compensation for emotional distress!

He was already very familiar with this method.

"Beep beep... beep beep..."

The urgent telegram was quickly sent to the company headquarters in San Francisco.

(End of this chapter)