Reborn in 1878: America's Number One Bandit

Chapter 94 Laying out San Francisco

"sense of security!"

Someone in the audience echoed in a trembling voice.

"But a sense of security doesn't come from prayer, nor from you hiding under your bed trembling! It comes from this!"

He patted the Colt revolver holster on his waist.

"It's thanks to faster guns and stricter laws!"

"White Tiger Security Company saved your lives, and now we don't mind doing a little more to save your lives."

“We have no intention of interfering in your elections, but we must guarantee that the elected leaders are capable of working with our company, paying for security, and maintaining the peace we won with our blood.”

"So."

Tias turned to the crowd: "Does anyone want to nominate the next mayor?"

There was a deathly silence. The job of town mayor was too dangerous; nobody wanted to be it.

"I nominate!"

In the silence, a man suddenly stood up; it was the baker, Hank.

He had just received a low-interest loan from White Tiger Security to rebuild his burned-down shop.

“I nominate Mr. Tias, he saved us! Without him, we would be burning the candle in hell long ago!”

"I also nominate Mr. Tias!"

"Mr. Tias will be the mayor!"

"we need you!"

Tias humbly gestured with his hand: "Since everyone is so kind, I can only say that for the future of Saint Raphael, I have no choice but to do my duty."

The applause started sporadically, but gradually grew into enthusiastic applause.

This is the only plank the drowning person managed to grab onto.

"And what about the councilors?"

Tias smiled and asked, "Let's vote!"

Soon, the three assassins, who had already integrated into Saint Raphael and had recently demonstrated bravery and competence, naturally became new members of the town council.

"at last."

Tias looked down at the audience, his gaze settling on a tall figure: "We need a new sheriff, a sheriff who can actually fire a gun."

He pointed to a tall white police officer.

He also performed admirably and outstandingly when fighting against gangs.

“You’ve all seen Officer Bob’s marksmanship. I nominate him to be the sheriff.”

Are there any other candidates?

Tias asked again.

His response was an even deeper silence.

"very good."

Tias clapped his hands: "Unanimous approval! Sheriff Bob, the security of Marin County is in your hands. I hope you do a better job than Thompson, or at least don't lose your head!"

Bob grinned coldly and reached out to take the badge of power from the table.

"I will. During my term, any bastard who dares to run wild here, I will personally shove his balls down his throat!"

A commotion arose in the crowd, but most people felt relieved.

Savage, brutal, but it sounds incredibly safe.

……

The same scene was playing out in Santa Rosa, Sonoma County.

Sonoma County Sheriff Miller was no longer able to deliver his resignation speech; his head and body had separated, and he was probably already mostly decomposed in the ground.

Several high-ranking officials from the county government gathered in a requisitioned hotel, all looking worried.

“A new leadership team has already been selected in Malin County.”

“What do we do? Those Irish bastards have remnants hiding in the mountains. God, Miller’s blood is still wet.”

"We need a new sheriff, someone who can keep things under control."

"boom!"

The conference room door was kicked open.

A man wearing a black trench coat walked in.

He was a burly man, and he was none other than Marcus Cole, the police officer who had distinguished himself in the previous battle.

"Stop whining like a bunch of women! Sonoma County is my territory now!"

“Marcus, who let you in?” the councilors frowned and berated.

"I am your new sheriff!"

Marcus grinned: "Either you nod now and sign the appointment letter."

"Either I shove your heads into the toilet one by one, and then sit in that spot myself. Choose one, gentlemen, we're talking about democracy."

Three minutes later.

Marcus Cole was unanimously elected as the new sheriff of Sonoma County.

Marcus, after receiving the sheriff's badge, smiled again: "I suggest we change our county councilors too."

At this point, the police and administrative systems of Marin and Sonoma counties, the two most important counties in Northern California, have been taken over from top to bottom by Lawson's people.

……

Marlene Farm.

Lawson closed his eyes and listened to the messages relayed by the assassins.

well.

The first phase of the game's opening has been completed.

Northern California may appear tranquil, but beneath its surface, it is almost completely overrun by the roots of the Lawson tree.

But Lawson wouldn't be satisfied with just that.

After establishing a foothold in Northern California, it's time to move on to San Francisco, which serves as a bridgehead for Southern California.

Southern California has four times the land area and resources of Northern California.

He has been observing San Francisco from the perspective of a suicide bomber these days.

It's very interesting.

In a flash of inspiration, Lawson's consciousness attached itself to a coolie who had just registered at the San Francisco docks.

The foreman was cursing, "Hurry up! If you delay the Pacific Cruises ship, I'll kick your asses until they're rotten tomatoes!"

He could even hear Italian sailors haggling with prostitutes on the dock in broken English.

"Two dollars? Are you kidding me? Your thing is looser than the mooring ropes on this dock, fifty cents is the most you can ask for!"

"Fuck you, Gino! You'd be better off spending fifty cents on those sea lions over there!"

This is the Ambacadero Pier in San Francisco.

Dirty and chaotic, yet pulsating with the heartbeat of gold.

Lawson's consciousness did not linger; it continued to switch.

"Tick-tock, tick-tock, tick-tock."

Consciousness entered a small room filled with the buzzing of a telegraph machine.

A night shift operator at the Montgomery Street telegraph office.

Through these currents, Lawson saw the city's financial lifeline.

Comstock Silver Mine stock price down 3 points.

"Harrison Bank urgently lent $100,000 to the Northern Pacific Railroad."

"London, silver futures prices are stable."

Countless riches gather, evaporate, and are transferred here.

Lawson's consciousness jumped again.

It came down to the white man, Riley.

He was a gambler and thug who frequented low-class casinos and brothels on the Bavarian coast.

Lawson could sense the strength of Riley's body.

His muscles were bulging, and his hands were covered in thick calluses.

Lawson peered through Riley's eyes at the mad city.

This is truly spectacular.

As far as the eye could see, the streets were teeming with people, seemingly regardless of day or night.

Chinese men with queues and wearing blue cloth jackets carried loads on shoulder poles, heads down, hurrying past.

Groups of three or five burly white sailors, arms around each other's shoulders, searched for the next bit of fun that would give them a good time.

There were also bankers dressed in black suits and top hats, walking quickly past with disgusted expressions, as if afraid that the mud on their feet would dirty their expensive leather shoes.

And those women.

They leaned against the balcony on the second floor of the salon, laughing lewdly at the men on the street without restraint. "Hey! Sweetheart! Come up for a drink! I've got something good for you!"

"You fat slut!"

The man gave her the middle finger, which drew even more unrestrained laughter.

"Clang clang clang!"

A piercing bell rang out, and a cable car climbed up the slope.

The cart wasn't pulled by horses, but by steel cables underground.

That's a fucking genius design.

Lawson could feel the heavy eagle dollars in Riley's pocket.

Riley's original plan was simple: go to Lucky Horseshoe, get completely drunk, and if he was lucky, go next door to find that bitch called Cookie. Her pair of pumpkins, fuck, could suffocate a cow.

Lawson suppressed the primal urge and steered Riley into a darker alley.

This is the heart of the Bavarian coast.

A drunkard was lying in the corner, his pants pulled down to his knees, snoring loudly.

Three Chinese coolies were squatting in front of an opium den, their faces pale and thin.

Riley kicked open the door to the Blackjack Salon.

"You son of a bitch Riley!"

The bartender, without even looking up, yelled, "You fucking dare to come back? You still haven't paid the bill for the drinks you owed last time!"

"FUCKYOU, one-eyed dragon!"

Riley slammed a silver dollar on the bar: "Give me the strongest one, I'm rich today!"

The bartender poured a glass of suspiciously amber liquid: "You? You fucking pawned your wife's underwear!"

"Fuck you!"

Riley grabbed the glass and gulped down the strong liquor.

A burning sensation ran from my throat all the way down to my stomach.

This is practically industrial alcohol mixed with horse urine.

But Riley's body became excited by the burning sensation.

Lawson felt the primal fire belonging to this body being ignited.

He turned and leaned against the bar, his gaze sweeping over the smoky salon.

Gambling tables, prostitutes, swindlers, sailors, fugitives...

This is San Francisco.

A glittering metropolis built on gold and sin.

Finally, Lawson's consciousness was pulled away from Riley.

The breeze on the porch brushed against his cheek again, and the aroma of Marlene's toast filled his nostrils once more.

He picked up the cup of coffee, which had already gone cold, and drank it all in one gulp.

"San Francisco..."

He muttered to himself, a possessive smile spreading across his lips.

"You beautiful, dirty, yet infinitely possible bitch, I will be a regular customer of yours."

When Lawson came down from the second floor, dinner was already prepared.

A clean white linen tablecloth was laid on the long oak table.

The candlelight flickered, illuminating the gleaming silver cutlery.

This set of silverware was seized from the Old Money Manor after the massacre, and it's quite handy to use.

The main course was black-tailed deer that San Gou hunted today, grilled with rosemary and butter.

The meat is so tender you could almost squeeze water out of it, and it has an enticing caramel color.

Next to it was a plate of mashed potatoes with rich meat gravy made by Marlene, and a plate of golden and crispy apple pie.

Lucy's little mouth was stuffed full, and she chattered incoherently, "Mr. Tias let those Indian children live in the house too, not the stables, they have beds! Lawson, did you know that?"

The little girl waved her tiny fists excitedly, her round face flushed red with excitement.

"Their leader, the one called Black Hawk, he can actually speak English! He taught me how to shoot tiny stones from a hollow straw tube, and whoosh, he can hit an apple fifty yards away!"

"Really? Then you'll have to teach me next time."

Lawson smiled and forked up a large piece of apple pie.

"Hmph, I won't teach you. You know everything."

"Lucy, don't be rude to Uncle Lawson."

Marlene glared at her daughter reproachfully, but the smile in her eyes was unmistakable.

She is breathtakingly beautiful today.

After preparing the food, she changed into a new dress that the Rosenthals had brought from San Francisco.

It wasn't the coarse cotton fabric that farm widows often wore, but a dark green velvet dress.

The dress was extremely form-fitting, tightly hugging her voluptuous body.

Her blonde hair was styled in a bun at the back of her head, revealing her fair and slender neck, which made her look even more ethereal.

"Losen".

She gently touched Lawson's arm: "Do you really think it looks good? In town, only the women in the salons..."

“You look a hundred times more elegant than them.”

"Hmph! That's not fair!"

Lucy pouted, "Mommy looks like a queen! I want a new dress too! I want a velvet one!"

Lawson smiled and patted Lucy's head.

"Next time, next time I go to San Francisco I'll take you to the White House Department Store, and you can buy as many as you want."

"Wow! That's great! I want two, no, three! Red, white, and blue!"

Lawson's appetite was as good as ever.

This time, he ate at least three pounds of venison, a large plate of mashed potatoes, and half an apple pie.

His body, which was evolving rapidly, was like a highly efficient biological furnace, converting all high-energy food into energy.

“You have quite the appetite… God, Lawson.”

Marlene stared at him, half in amazement and half intoxicated: "I'm really afraid that one day you'll eat me and Lucy as dessert too."

Lawson wiped his mouth with a napkin, neither confirming nor denying the joke.

"Then you two must be the sweetest!"

after dinner.

Lucy fell asleep contentedly after Marlene told her a modified version of the bedtime story about a knight fighting a dragon.

Marlene walked out of the bedroom and gently closed the door.

Only a dim kerosene lamp was lit in the corridor.

She had changed out of her gorgeous velvet dress and was now wearing only a thin white cotton nightgown, her feet bare.

Her blonde hair was casually draped over her shoulders, with a few strands clinging to her slightly flushed cheeks.

At the end of the corridor, Lawson was leaning against the wall.

The flickering light shone on the man, making his already muscular body appear even more defined.

His tall, imposing figure, wider at the top and narrower at the bottom, was enough to make her swoon just by standing there.

She stepped forward, slightly tiptoed, and grabbed the front of Lawson's shirt.

Then he tilted his head back and gently pressed his lips to Lawson's.

But this time, Lawson neither responded nor pushed him away.

After a long while, Marlene finally released him, panting heavily.

A misty haze settled over her blue eyes.

"I...I'm going to take a shower first."

She took two steps back and leaned against the door frame of the bathroom.

"Lorsen, do you want to come along? It'll save some hot water."

Lawson stared at her, then finally shook his head.

"You wash first."

The light in Marlene's eyes dimmed, replaced by a hint of disappointment.

Did she do something wrong?
"I'm going to the study; I have some things to take care of."

Lawson added a sentence as a form of reassurance.

He then stopped looking at her and went straight to the study at the end of the corridor.

Marlene leaned against the doorframe until she heard the study door close, then slowly slid down to sit on the floor and buried her face in her knees.

(End of this chapter)