Reborn in 1878: America's Number One Bandit

Chapter 76 They came, and then they left.
The Pinkerton Detective Agency agents and militiamen stared intently until dawn.

The night passed, and nothing happened in Saint Raphael.

Those damned Irish thugs broke their promise; they didn't come!

What a waste of a night.

But they dared not relax; that almost maddening tension continued to spread.

As long as the Irish bandits don't come, they need to stay on high alert.

This string is stretched too tight! It's about to snap!

Another two days later.

Whether it's the Pinkerton agents or Buck's militia, everyone is on the verge of collapse!

These people's nerves are as fragile as a thin layer of ice.

Last night, a sentry even sounded the alarm because a stray cat jumped over a barricade, triggering a five-minute-long frenzied firing at thin air!
They were being worn down by this Irish gang of bandits whose arrival was uncertain.

And the reporters were also getting impatient.

From initial excitement to mid-term boredom, and now, pure frustration.

They've been stuck in this awful place for almost a week!
"FUCK!!"

A reporter from the San Francisco Herald finally snapped: "These damned Irish cowards!!"

"Are they even coming, or not??"

These reporters were all conflicted, like young girls waiting to go on a date with their boyfriends, afraid that he wouldn't come, yet also afraid that he would do something inappropriate.

Another day passed.

Night falls again.

The militiamen's tense nerves inevitably began to relax, gradually turning into restlessness and numbness.

"Damn, this weather is so cold!"

A militiaman named Jenkins rubbed his hands together and breathed white vapor into his palms.

“That son of a bitch Lieutenant Buck is making us stay here and starve! I bet those Irish bastards are already scared off to Mexico to fuck donkeys.”

Hey, Jenkins!

A bearded old soldier next to him spat out tobacco dregs and chuckled, "Do you know anything that warms you up better than whiskey?"

"What? Your wife?"

"FUCK YOU!"

Hicks laughed and said, "Listen carefully, just last month, at the silk garter belt in Sacramento..."

As soon as the topic came up, three or four sentries immediately scurried over in a sneaky manner.

"Guess what the new French woman said? She said her thing was so tight it could be used to load a Colt pistol!"
Hahaha! I immediately said to her, "Honey, would you mind cleaning the barrel of my old Winchester gun for me first?"

"Oh! You son of a bitch Hicks! You old bastard!"

"And then what? Did you do it?"

The sentries were so amused they doubled over with laughter.

puff! ! !
Hicks was about to continue boasting when his head suddenly exploded!

“FUCK…”

Jenkins froze on the spot, his face instantly covered in the thick, porridge-like liquid.

He hadn't even realized what was happening yet!
boom! boom! boom!
Three more shots rang out.

The sentries who had just been laughing suddenly had their chests burst open and fell straight backward.

"Enemy! Enemy attack!!!"

"Irish bastards! They're here!!"

A piercing whistle echoed throughout the town!
"FUCK! Where are they?"

"Fight back! Fight back at the fire! Damn it!"

"Medical officer! Medical officer! My leg! My leg is broken!!"

Unlike the chaotic defending forces, the attacking forces' firepower was fierce yet orderly!
The three-person assault teams took turns providing cover in the darkness, their marksmanship was shockingly sharp!

The battle skipped the initial probing and went straight into a bloody climax!

"Stay calm! Hold your ground!"

Thorne kicked aside the trembling messenger and rushed to a heavy machine gun position.

The agents standing nearby had already been riddled with bullets!

"Kane! Get that damn Gatling gun working!!" On the other side, Kane and several agents were frantically turning the crank of a Gatling gun.

"It's stuck! This damn damp weather!"

"Use your dick to poke it! Make it loud!"

Thorne roared and shot down a dark figure who had sneaked into the defensive line within thirty yards.

"All right!"

“Thump, thump, thump, thump!!!”

A few muffled groans came from the darkness, and the fierce offensive was abruptly halted by the dense barrage of bullets!
Thorne and Kane both breathed a sigh of relief, their backs already soaked with cold sweat.

"Damn it!"

Thorne spat a mouthful of bloody foam on the ground: "These bastards are so ruthless!"

"They're very cunning."

Kane's face was somewhat pale: "They caught us completely off guard. Luckily, luckily we had this treasure!"

The Irish gang seemed to be intimidated.

They launched another attempt, but after leaving behind seven or eight corpses, they were once again unable to break through the Gatling gun's blockade.

A few short whistles came from the darkness.

The bandits retreated.

The gunshots came quickly and went quickly.

It's like a pack of wolves taking a bite in the night and then quickly disappearing into the darkness.

When all was silent again, only the corpses of three militiamen and five wounded soldiers lying on the ground groaning remained on the defensive line.

"Damn it..."

Buck's flushed face was contorted with rage as he glared hatefully at the darkness beyond the defensive line.

The bastards in the darkness seemed to be silently mocking their army of nearly eight hundred men.

"They will come back."

After cleaning up the scene, Thorne returned to calm and carefully wiped his Winchester M1873.

This gun was his treasure, more precious than any of his lovers.

I knew they would come back!

Buck roared furiously, "Those Irish rats hiding in the gutter! They only dare to launch sneak attacks like this!"

Time passed by minute by minute.

Hour after hour.

Midnight has passed, and at two in the morning, the earth remains silent.

This silence is more agonizing than gunfights.

Militia soldiers and Pinkerton agents huddled inside the fortifications.

The cold seeped up from the ground, penetrating their boots and coats.

Some people even dozed off against the bunker, but were immediately kicked awake.

"Stay awake, you bunch of women!"

"Want to be shot in your dream?"

The militiamen's emotions were torn between tension and exhaustion, bringing them to the brink of collapse.

They're just waiting for those damn bastards to show their faces so they can all be riddled with holes!
But those bastards just won't come, damn it.

Buck couldn't take it anymore either.

"FUCK! Thorne! Kane! If we keep waiting like this, our men will freeze to death!"

"Give me command and let me lead a hundred men out to search along that riverbank. I guarantee I'll find those sons of bitches!"

Kane sneered, "What guarantees do you have for the lieutenant? Your loud voice?"

"you!"

"Kane is right."

Thorne, without looking up, stopped Buck's plan: "We are the defenders. We have nearly eight hundred men, cover, and supplies. They are the wolves, and we are the hunters guarding the sheepfold."

“Hunters wouldn’t be foolish enough to chase wolves in the dark; staying in the fortifications is the best idea right now.”

"Buck, take it easy!"

(End of this chapter)