Reborn in 1878: America's Number One Bandit

Chapter 95 The Countdown to Survival for Heweitang and Feng Haitang

The study was pitch black.

Lawson sat down and took a deep breath, forcibly suppressing the heat that surged up his lower abdomen.

He is now facing something more important.

Lawson's consciousness once again entered Qingshan's body.

On the oak table in front of him lay not some sophisticated tactical map, but a crumpled illustration of twelve city blocks torn from the San Francisco Chronicle.

Chinatown in 1878 was a stinking can filled with more than 40,000 Chinese.

It stretches from California Street in the south to Broadway in the north.

It is bordered by Carney Street to the east and Stockton Street to the west.

Lawson tapped lightly on the palm-sized area with his index finger.

Forty thousand people, it's too crowded here.

He was determined to get his hands on Chinatown, but the traditional method of seizing territory wouldn't achieve his goal.

"Because these properties and shops in Chinatown are all owned by white landlords..."

"Chinese people here are just tenants."

Lawson instantly grasped the core of the abscess.

These foreign landlords are the true owners of this land.

Like a flock of vultures perched on corpses, they shamelessly sucked every drop of bloody profit created by these 40,000 Chinese.

They rented out dilapidated wooden huts without even a sewer to thirty crammed laborers, charging them exorbitant rent.

"Go check it out first."

Lawson gave the instructions in his mind.

He didn't need to know who these landlords were, whether they were Irish, Germans, or damned Englishmen.

All he needs to know is their names and addresses.

As for the methods?

In Lawson's dictionary, there is only efficiency.

Is it to fabricate a gambling debt they can never repay, or to make them accidentally fall at some dark dock, or to find the body of a prostitute that shouldn't be there in their bed...?

That depends on their luck.

But before that, he had to clean the maggots out of the can.

Longzhitang, Heweitang, Jianghaitang...

A bunch of idiots who don't even dare to offend white police officers, but only know how to bully their own compatriots.

They thought they were the local tyrants of these twelve blocks, but they didn't realize that they didn't even own the land beneath their feet.

Incorporation? Lawson couldn't even be bothered to think of that word.

You can't teach a pack of dogs that's used to begging on their knees to stand up and be wolves.

They only have two choices.

Alternatively, he could cut off his queue, obediently go to a mine or vineyard in Northern California, become a dutiful worker, and contribute surplus value to Lawson's industry.

Either die.

We've already secured one.

The former territory of Longzhitang has now been planted with a new flag – "Qingshanhui".

Apart from that slut Mak Ling who still has some use.

Her thighs are now the best intelligence tentacles that Lawson has planted in San Francisco's wealthy neighborhoods.

You have to admit, there are some places that are unsuitable for men but perfect for women.

Before unlocking the female assassin, Lawson had a weakness in this area.

From the gatekeepers to the accountants, everyone at Longzhitang has been replaced by Lawson's henchmen.

A perfect, zero-casualty surgical resection.

The aftershocks of this surgery are only just beginning to spread through Chinatown's murky underground water system.

……

The main hall of Hewei Hall.

He Wei was sitting in a grand chair, slowly twirling two shiny iron balls in his hands.

"Uncle Wei," that's what people in Chinatown call him.

He rose to power through monopolizing the opium trade and ruthlessness, making him the oldest and most venomous crocodile in this filth.

Sitting opposite him was Jing Hai, the head of Jing Hai Hall.

This burly Mongolian man, who claimed to be a descendant of Genghis Khan, was as big as a grizzly bear.

He wore a dirty sheepskin vest, his bare arms covered in tattoos, and his bulging muscles looked as if they were about to burst through his skin.

Jinghaitang doesn't have many members, but each one is a desperate outlaw capable of taking on ten men.

"Master Wei, you called me here just to smell your damn opium butts?"

"Brother Jing, you still have such a temper."

He Wei said slowly, "Chinatown hasn't been very peaceful lately."

Jing Hai snorted heavily, grabbed the bottle on the table, and took a big gulp: "When the hell has this place ever been peaceful? Last month, those damn Irish cops came to extort money again, and this month the protection fee has increased by 20%. Those white pigs have an appetite bigger than a prostitute's legs when she's doing her business!"

"The cops are like jackals; once they're fed, they're gone."

He Wei finally stopped what he was doing, his sinister triangular eyes locking onto Jing Hai: "But this time, a fierce dragon has come from across the river."

Upon hearing this, Jing Hai's expression darkened.

“The Green Mountain Society,” he muttered under his breath, “that bastard named Green Mountain.”

Long Zhitang, their old rival who had stood against them for nearly ten years, is gone just like that.

Overnight.

"Master Wei." For the first time, Jing Hai's fierce face showed confusion: "Master Long and his forty or fifty thugs have disappeared without a trace, neither alive nor dead."

"I sent people to inquire. That night, there wasn't a single gunshot, not even a dog barking. The Longzhitang people just vanished into thin air. Only that slut Mai Ling is still going out every day dressed up and looking all fancy!"

He Wei's face was gloomy.

This is the most terrifying place.

Forty or fifty strong men, not forty or fifty chickens.

They were entrenched in their territory, familiar with every dark alley, and kept knives and guns under their pillows.

I want to eliminate them all without alerting anyone...

too difficult.

Countless bloody images flashed through He Wei's mind, but in the end, they all turned into a chilling coldness.

This is impossible.

unless……

"The Qing Dynasty?"

Jing Hai stroked the stubble on his chin and asked in a low voice, "Do you think it might be one of those eunuchs in yellow jackets in Beijing trying to get their hands on things here?"

He Wei let out a disdainful snort: "The Qing Dynasty is almost sinking, and even the rats on board are running away. You still expect them to send people to America to make plans? They can't even protect their own balls, what are they going to do with making plans?"

"I bet they're some wealthy families who couldn't make it on the mainland. They brought money and assassins with them. These kinds of people are ruthless and don't follow the rules of the underworld."

The middle-aged scholar sitting to He Wei's left was his strategist, Bai Shan.

Bai Shan coughed twice and said in a shrill voice, "Master Wei, Master Jing, this newcomer is up to no good. He took over Longzhi Hall, but he neither pays our respects nor communicates with us. He just stays here quietly, and that's what's most unsettling."

A glint of ruthlessness flashed in his eyes: "In my opinion, why don't we join forces temporarily and probe his strength? If he really is a newcomer without any foundation, we'll take advantage of his unstable foothold and uproot him in one fell swoop! We'll split that piece of fat meat, Longzhitang, equally between our two families!"

Jing Hai's eyes lit up.

Lung Chi Tong's territory comprised some of the most lucrative streets in Chinatown, with brothels and casinos that made a fortune every day.

"Dividing the territory equally is fine. My Jinghaitang doesn't have many people, and we can't manage it all. I can ask for less territory."

His obese body leaned forward, and a strong smell of alcohol and sweat wafted towards He Wei.

"But, Mr. Wei, you owe me 30% of your opium business!"

"Snapped!"

He Wei slammed the two iron balls in his hand heavily onto the table.

"Jing Hai, what the hell are you talking about in your sleep?"

He Wei's triangular eyes narrowed into slits, his murderous aura radiating: "Have you forgotten the rules? This Chinatown can have ten gambling dens, twenty brothels. But the opium-selling business can only be run by my family, He Wei!" "Anyone who dares to get involved is starting a war with my He Wei Hall!"

The smile on Jing Hai's face disappeared.

The air was extremely tense.

After a long silence, Jing Hai burst into laughter: "He Wei, you're a real old bastard who'd rather die than keep his money!"

He suddenly stood up, causing the tables and chairs to rattle.

"I'm not getting involved in this mess. Go fight that dragon crossing the river yourself! I'll be waiting to collect your corpse!"

After that, he turned around and left.

"Wait a minute!"

He Wei's only son, He Yao, known as Little Master Wei, stepped out from behind the screen.

"Father, why use a sledgehammer to crack a nut?"

He Yao wagged his finger smugly: "We don't need to do it ourselves. Don't forget, where are we? This is America!"

He deliberately dragged out the tone of that English word.

"We can use someone else to do the dirty work."

He Wei frowned: "Explain yourself."

"Foreign police!"

He Yao snapped his fingers: "Forty or fifty people from Longzhitang have gone missing! This is a big case in the West. All we need to do is send someone to the police station to report that the Qingshan Society is acting suspiciously."

"I want to see if this Green Mountain Society, no matter how powerful, dares to lay a hand on those foreigners in blue uniforms. If he dares to lay a finger on them, he'll be hanging tomorrow!"

He Wei's eyes lit up.

Yes.

No matter how fiercely these Chinese gangs fight, they dare not touch those white police officers.

This is everyone's bottom line.

"good idea."

He Wei nodded approvingly, but then his face darkened: "It's just that that damn bastard in the police station, Patrick Callahan, his appetite is enormous."

"It's cheaper than risking your life!" He Yao advised.

Jing Hai also stopped in his tracks, stroking his chin, and thought that this idea was indeed damn insidious.

Just as He Wei was about to nod in agreement to this ingenious plan of using someone else to do the dirty work—

"boom!"

There was a loud bang.

The Hewei Hall disciples guarding the door were sent flying inside.

"Has someone broken into Hewei Hall?"

Jing Hai was instantly sobered up and grabbed the short-handled axe tucked behind his waist.

He Wei and his thugs frantically drew their knives and guns and looked toward the door.

A figure walked in slowly, against the light.

He was tall, but not as bulky as Jing Hai.

The visitor was none other than Qingshan.

He gently brushed a speck of sawdust off his shoulder.

His eyes swept across the entire room.

Finally, he twitched the corner of his mouth, as if he were smiling.

"What a coincidence."

"Since the people from Jinghaitang are here, it saves me the trouble of making a separate trip."

"Let me introduce myself, my name is Qingshan."

He stood still in the room, his gaze fixed on He Wei and Jing Hai.

"I have something to discuss with you."

He Wei's pupils contracted sharply in the smoke.

He never expected that the target he was plotting to eliminate would appear so brazenly in his own backyard in such a way.

He subtly gestured to his trusted aides behind him.

The confidant slipped out silently, then slipped back a few minutes later, gesturing a few times at He Wei.

There was no one outside, no ambush, no helpers, just him all alone.

He Wei's tense nerves relaxed, and he got up and sat down in the armchair, looking at Qingshan.

"Qingshan, I admire your courage."

"You dare to barge into my Hewei Hall all by yourself? What, do you really think you're Guan Yu, the lone hero who went to the meeting alone?"

Jing Hai and his three Mongol henchmen behind him burst into a raucous laugh.

Qingshan ignored their mockery. He walked straight to the table, pulled over an empty chair, and sat down leisurely.

"Brother Wei, it's good that you're educated. It's a pity you're not very good at it."

"I am not Guan Yu."

He raised his eyelids, and his dark eyes, under the dim light, shone with an inhuman coldness.

“You are not Lu Zijing.”

Wei Ye's smile froze instantly.

His face turned from red to green, and then from green to white in a mere second.

This is looking down on them.

Jing Hai looked bewildered, turned to his subordinate, and asked in a gruff voice, "What is he talking about?"

Qingshan turned to look at Jinghai.

“This barbarian from the grasslands obviously doesn’t understand the stories and idioms of us Central Plains people.”

He turned to He Wei, clicking his tongue in regret: "Brother Wei, you're supposed to be a veteran boss in Chinatown, how could you be working with such an idiot? You're really going downhill from being a boss."

"Kid, who are you calling a barbarian?"

Jing Hai finally understood and stood up abruptly.

"We were planning to probe your background, but we never expected you to deliver your own neck to our door!"

"You're very confident you can walk out of this door, huh?"

His three henchmen also surrounded him at the same time.

The atmosphere suddenly became tense.

The thugs from Hewei Hall who were originally scattered around also quietly got up.

Qingshan said calmly.

"You bunch of scum, loan sharks, forcing women into prostitution, selling desperate Chinese laborers to those damned railway companies as 'coolies' at three times the price. Jing Hai, am I right?"

Jing Hai's sinister smile faltered slightly.

Aoyama continued, "Furthermore, you monopolize the moving business in Chinatown. Chinese people who want to find work here have to pay you a head tax."

Those who fail to hand over their documents will be severely beaten at best, and at worst thrown into San Francisco Bay by your men. In the past three years, at least seventeen of the recorded missing Chinese laborers are linked to you.”

Jing Hai's pitifully small brain capacity was unable to process this sudden exposure of information for a moment.

How could he know so much?

"so what?"

Jing Hai finally snapped out of his shock: "To survive in America, who isn't eating people? White people eat us! If we don't eat our own people, are we supposed to eat dirt?"

"You took over Longzhitang's business, so you're not going to run gambling dens or keep prostitutes? Stop pretending to be saviors! Is your money any cleaner than mine?"

"you are wrong."

Qingshan shook his head: "Whether I close the door or not is a separate matter from whether you want to leave."

"I'll set the rules for Chinatown from now on. It's not your place, you foreign scum, to bully the Chinese."

“If I tell you Feng Hai Gang to get out of Chinatown right now.”

Lawson's gaze swept past Jing Hai and landed on the three Mongolian thugs behind him who looked like they were facing a formidable enemy.

"You didn't want to either, did you?"

(End of this chapter)