Reborn in 1878: America's Number One Bandit

Chapter 72 Familiar Recipe, Familiar Taste

Pinkerton suffered a complete defeat in this encounter.

Kane was so angry that his face turned black.

It seems they won't be able to take Isabel away today.

Thorne was on the verge of exploding, and Kane quickly pulled him back.

"let's go!"

Before leaving, Kane turned back and gave Jack a cold look.

“Mr. Anderson, you are very lucky to have married a wife who can bring you a huge fortune.”

"However, seasons always change, and heavy rains always wash away the surface soil. One day, the truth will emerge on its own, and we'll wait for that day."

……

Mrs. Marlene's farm.

After watching the spectacle through the eyes of the assassin, Lawson grinned.

“He can be replaced.”

Northern California is destined to be the Pinkerton Detective Agency's Waterloo.

Everything they were so proud of failed them here.

His reputation was utterly destroyed by a group of Irish bandits with smoke and beheadings.

To a player like Lawson, who had a god-like perspective, the professionalism of these people was like that of a group of blind men with their eyes covered.

Their original intention was to make money, but every day they are here, they are incurring huge losses.

When a legend ceases to be legendary, when a myth crumbles, it is not far from being replaced.

……

News of Buck's arrest of Dennis quickly spread throughout Northern California.

A large number of reporters flocked to the town of San Rafael.

Buck was basking in the thrill of revenge, surrounded by dozens of reporters, giving a high-profile interview.

"Evidence? FUCK! I personally searched that bastard's luggage and found Major Cross's head! That's the evidence!"

"He's the mastermind! He's the one who provided the gang with funds and protection!"

"Dennis! That damned Workers' Party leader! He's the mastermind behind this conspiracy! He's the one who murdered Major Cross!"

This news is too shocking.

The major newspapers went crazy.

The San Francisco Chronicle, the Sacramento Bee...

The news dominated the front pages of almost every newspaper.

"A shocking conspiracy! The Workers' Party leader is actually a gang leader?"

"Blood evidence! Lieutenant Buck found Cross's head!"

"Dennis: Politician, or Murderer?"

The Irish Workers' Party was suddenly put on the defensive.

Numerous leaders from the Irish community have come forward to say that this is absolutely impossible, a conspiracy, and a frame-up.

But many others are taking a wait-and-see approach, awaiting the court's investigation results.

……

Strawberry Town, in an unnamed alley.

"boom!"

"Hold!"

Jerry and Peter were dejectedly chugging down cheap whiskey.

They failed to secure a starting position again.

While they were still investigating the background of White Tiger Security Company, Buck had already made a huge fuss.

"It's over, Peter! We're doomed!"

Jerry leaned against the wall, stunned. "The editor-in-chief will cram us into a timber train and send us to Oregon."

"Oh shit!"

Peter punched his leg: "Why! Why are we always one step behind everyone else!"

"Maybe we're just not cut out for this line of work."

Jerry looked dejected, about to take another sip.

Suddenly, he felt something behind him.

Under a shadow.

"Again?"

"boom!"

In the last second before they lost consciousness, only one thought remained in their minds: "This familiar formula again..."

The two were awakened by a stench.

"Ah...FUCK..."

Jerry opened his eyes.

It's still the same canyon, and the same group of Irish bandits chatting and joking around the campfire.

And their precious camera was lying quietly at their feet.

But this time, Jerry wasn't that scared.

Practice makes perfect, and this time he actually felt like he was clocking in for work.

He waved to the scarred man who was walking towards them.

"Good morning."

He rubbed the unlucky back of his head and spoke weakly:
"Gentlemen, could you please try a different approach? Next time, could you please not tap me on the back of the head? If you do this twice more, I'm going to become an idiot."

Finnian was slightly surprised, then grinned.

"Heh, you're getting better and better at it, kid."

"Tell me, kid, did that big gift from last time get you promoted by the editor-in-chief?"

Upon hearing this, Jerry's face immediately fell.

Peter immediately exploded: "Promotion? To hell with promotion!"

Having his sore spot touched, Jerry started talking non-stop.

"Promotion? That fat bastard Martin, he'll promote us? Damn it, he wouldn't even give us an extra piece of toilet paper to wipe our butts!"

"He's just a big-time bastard who only knows how to make empty promises!"

Peter chimed in indignantly, "He gave us a five-hundred-dollar bonus, but the hell, he just told us to go back to Northern California and dig up some more sensational news for him!"

"Does he think sensational news is like a radish that grows out of the ground?"

"And what about him?"

"Humph!"

Jerry looked at him with disdain: "All he does is spend all day in his office flirting with his female secretary!!"

"She's probably getting intimate with her secretary right now, while the two of us are just sitting here starving."

"The tasks they're giving us are getting fucking heavier and heavier!"

Peter complained, “Exclusivity! Sensation! Conflict! Why doesn’t he just carry this junk around and deal with you guys… uh, gentlemen himself!”

Finnian listened quietly, his smile gradually fading.

"In this case,"

He suddenly leaned closer to Jerry, staring intently at him: "How about I take care of him for you?"

"Kill, kill?"

Jerry immediately became quiet.

Although they harbored deep resentment towards that bastard editor-in-chief, they never entertained the idea of ​​killing him.

This is crazy.

"Correct!"

Finnian grinned maliciously: "I'll send two of my brothers to San Francisco. Without the fat editor-in-chief, won't the two of you become editors-in-chief?"

"No, no, no! Sir! You've misunderstood!"

Jerry waved his hands frantically: "That's not what we meant! We were just venting!"

"Besides, it's useless! Killing him won't change anything!"

"Oh?"

“That fat bastard Martin, his daughter married the newspaper owner! Even if you kill him, the editor-in-chief position won't go to us, unless you also take down that big boss, Mr. Henderson…”

Jerry suddenly covered his mouth.

"Oh God! I'm so sorry, sir! That's not what I meant! I swear! I really didn't mean that!"

"Do not."

Finnian laughed maliciously: "That's exactly what you mean, I heard you."

He reached directly into the pocket of Jerry's tattered vest, rummaged around for a while, and pulled out a Morgan Eagle note that was still warm from his body.

"FUCK! That's my last bit of money!"

Jerry almost burst into tears as he watched helplessly as the money was taken away.

"Tsk, tsk."

Finnian examined it for a while, then put it in his pocket with satisfaction.

"Kid, we accept your commission."

(End of this chapter)