Outnumbered? I'll conquer America with an unlimited number of suicide soldiers.

Longtou picked up the covered teacup from the small table beside him, gently stirred the floating tea leaves with the lid, took a sip, and then asked, "Ah Bao, did you notice the horse that kid was riding?"

"Huh?" Sun Tianbao asked, puzzled.

"It's an Andalusian horse."

The head horse's voice was calm, yet it sent a shiver down Sun Tianbao's spine. "Its coat is glossy, its body is well-proportioned and graceful, and its gait is proud. In San Francisco, a horse of that quality wouldn't fetch less than a thousand dollars."

Sun Tianbao was even more confused, not understanding why the leader was suddenly interested in the price of horses.

"A few days ago, the Hound Gang outside, their leader's younger brother went out on horseback and hasn't returned yet. You remember that, right? His brother was also riding a gray Andalusian horse," the middle-aged man said slowly.

Sun Tianbao was taken aback at first, but then he understood what the middle-aged man meant, and a smug sneer appeared on his face.

"Understood."

It is highly unlikely that Xieyitang would directly attack the Su Song Group, which may possess a large amount of weaponry; doing so would most likely result in mutual destruction.

But whether those foreigners live or die is none of their business.

All they had to do was spread the word, getting the keywords "grey Andalusian horse" and "Chinese company boss" to the ears of the Hound Gang leader.

Given the behavior of that pack of mad dogs, what will happen next is almost predictable.

Conflict, bloodshed, retaliation...

Regardless of the final outcome, Su Song's side will inevitably be in a state of chaos and suffer losses. Meanwhile, Xieyi Hall can simply watch from the sidelines and reap the benefits.

You idiot, who told you to ride a horse of the same breed and color?

You're out of luck!

Sigrún has taught at the Iceland University of the Arts as a part-time lecturer since and was Dean of the Department of Fine Art from -. In – she held a research position at Reykjavík Art Museum focusing on the role of women in Icelandic art. She studied fine art at the Icelandic College of Arts and Crafts and at Pratt Institute, New York, and holds BA and MA degrees in art history and philosophy from the University of Iceland. Sigrún lives and works in Iceland.

Meanwhile, on the other side...

"Damn it, we haven't even dealt with Yixingtang yet, and now Xieyitang is here."

He once bit into the goose leg that he had specially asked Su Song to bring back, and sighed, "There are only five thousand people in the whole Chinatown. It's really a small temple with a lot of evil spirits and a shallow pond with many turtles."

"My lord, how about I take some men with guns tonight and take out their leader?" Jian Yuan suggested. "Once the leader is dead, the lower-ranking leaders will inevitably fight amongst themselves for a while to compete for the position, and they won't be able to take care of us."

"Come on, we just started a feud during the day, and the leader died tonight. Even a fool would know it was us."

He had previously rejected Jian Yuan's suggestion, but after thinking it over, he said, "We can put the Xieyi Hall aside for now. Now that they know we're in the arms trade, unless they're complete idiots, they won't make any rash moves in the short term."

Right now, our primary target is still Yixingtang.

"Speaking of which, is it possible for one of our people to infiltrate Yixing Hall?"

"It's a bit difficult."

Jianyuan said, "The rules for recruiting new members in the Hongmen are very strict. They must be recommended by someone of sufficient status within the branch. Even if they claim to be fellow disciples who have come from overseas, they still have to perform a ritualistic greeting and a 'kick' in the secret language when they arrive at the branch. Then, the branch will check their credentials and whether they are recommended by the Emperor."

The so-called "Mountain Hall Perfume" refers to the hall where the initiation ceremony is held, the incense being the name of your lineage, and the water being a secret code for identifying fellow disciples.

The names and titles of the initiator who presides over the initiation ceremony, the preacher who teaches the rules of the organization, the guarantor who vouches for the newcomer, and the introducer who recommends them for membership are all included.

If any one of these eight conditions is not met, one will be turned away or even die on the spot.

"Tsk, no wonder it's an old brand for opposing the Qing and restoring the Ming, its organizational structure is quite tight."

I clicked my tongue once, and suddenly remembered a skill that I had neglected for a long time.

[The Dead Fear Death]: There is a certain chance that those who died at the hands of you and your assassins will be summoned.

"Alright, Jianyuan, send someone to find out where the Yixingtang people usually hang out. Then find an opportunity to kill a few of the tyrannical ones. Let's see if we can use this skill to turn their people into ours."

"Also, although Xieyitang may not come openly for the time being, we should still be wary of them."

He instructed, "Pass down the order: starting today, the alert level for daily patrols inside and outside the factory, including this area, will be raised to the highest level."

"Yes."

Sigrún has taught at the Iceland University of the Arts as a part-time lecturer since and was Dean of the Department of Fine Art from -. In – she held a research position at Reykjavík Art Museum focusing on the role of women in Icelandic art. She studied fine art at the Icelandic College of Arts and Crafts and at Pratt Institute, New York, and holds BA and MA degrees in art history and philosophy from the University of Iceland. Sigrún lives and works in Iceland.

Montgomery Street, Lucas Bank.

Hosea sipped his coffee and chatted amiably with Sherman across from him.

"Mr. Matthews, that officially concludes this short-selling transaction." Sherman, clearly in high spirits after making a substantial profit, asked, "Is there anything else?"

"Of course, Mr. Sherman."

Hosea put down his coffee and said with a smile, "After Mokel Mihir's unfortunate passing, his mining company went bankrupt. I'd like to know what will happen to his two gold mines that were seized by bandits?"

Sherman said, "Under current California law and established practices in mining, when a mining company goes bankrupt, its mining rights will be auctioned off as part of the company's assets by the court or a designated bankruptcy administrator. The proceeds will be used to pay off the company's debts and recover losses for creditors as much as possible."

"Wait, are you talking about California law and local practice, not federal law?" Hosea raised an eyebrow.

"Yes, after all, the federal government has not yet legislated to clearly define how mineral resources on these lands should be allocated and their rights confirmed."

Sherman sat up slightly: "In other words, right now, mining rights in California are more like a de facto right based on a first-come, first-served principle, maintained by industry consensus and the threat of force. It lacks the solid backing of federal law and is therefore extremely unstable."

Hosea followed his train of thought and took over the conversation: "This means that if a certain gentleman happens to be able to produce legally valid documents proving that the land where those two gold mines are located, or even the land in a wider area, has belonged to him personally from the beginning."

So, legally, the question of who ultimately owns the gold mine and its output becomes a completely new issue that could be extremely detrimental to existing mining rights holders.

Sherman did not answer directly, but gave a knowing, standard banker's smile and raised his glass to Hosea.

Just then, there was a gentle knock on the office door, and the blond receptionist entered, saying, "Mr. Matthews, the troublemaking businessman outside has been escorted away by security. You can leave safely now."

"Then, Mr. Sherman, I shall take my leave."

Upon hearing this, Hosea straightened the front of his suit jacket and immediately stood up. "Furthermore, when your bank recommends investment opportunities to clients in the future, you can cross out that gentleman who blocked the door."

Finance is inherently a gamble where you have to accept the consequences. How can someone who can't even handle that kind of mental fortitude sustain a business for long?

"Very sound advice, I will give it serious consideration." Sherman nodded. "Goodbye, Mr. Matthews, I hope we can have another pleasant collaboration."

As Hosea left the bank and was about to go back, he suddenly heard arguing in front of him.

That's the entrance to another bank.

A middle-aged man with disheveled hair and a haggard face was seen excitedly speaking loudly into the bank, his face full of pleading.

"Charlie, for the sake of our old friendship! You know, this is all I need to get through this. The daily newspaper's circulation is already climbing, and GG Merchant is watching closely!"

A very formulaic voice came from inside the bank: "I'm sorry, Mr. Thomas. The bank's board of directors has reassessed your newspaper's financial situation and profit forecasts, and concluded that the risk is too high. We are unable to provide you with any new loans. Please leave."

"Mr. Thomas, I regret to inform you that, given the profitability of your newspaper, we are unable to provide you with a loan," said a middle-aged man in a dark suit.

"Mr. Charlie has also rejected Mr. Thomas."

A passerby wearing a double-breasted tuxedo and smoking a cigar shook his head. "It seems the Daily Evening Post Announcement is unlikely to survive this wave."

Daily Evening News Announcement? Isn't this the newspaper where he and Daqi submitted articles twice?

Hosea immediately became interested and said to the guard beside him, "Don't rush back. Go to the investment company and investigate what exactly happened between Mr. Thomas and the Daily Evening Post."

The investment firms on Montgomery Street are not just places to buy and sell stocks and bonds, but also one of the fastest and most densely packed hubs of information flow in San Francisco and even California.

In the days before a formal stock exchange was established in California, this was the premier social arena for well-informed individuals, speculators, and businessmen to exchange information, assess trends, and seek opportunities.

Not long after Hosea entered, and after just a few cigars and whiskeys, he pieced together the whole story of Thomas's predicament with the Daily Evening Bulletin from those scattered, exaggerated conversations, but whose core information was often quite accurate.

The matter is quite simple: just a few months ago, the Daily Evening Announcement was a weekly report with a stable business situation.

But the owner, Thomas, was ambitious and dreamed of rapidly increasing the newspaper's influence by an order of magnitude. So he skipped the semi-weekly stage and transformed the newspaper into a daily newspaper.

To this end, he expanded his printing plant, purchased the latest high-speed rotary printing press, and hired a large team of reporters and editors.

But things never go as planned.

The San Francisco readership's acceptance of the daily newspaper was far slower than he had expected, resulting in slow circulation growth. Consequently, Google Ads publishers, who had been observing the market, reduced their Google Ads placements, causing Thomas's newspaper to gradually become unprofitable.

Now, even banks are unwilling to lend him money anymore.

"A newspaper with a good reputation and complete daily publishing capabilities, yet on the verge of bankruptcy due to its aggressive strategies..."

Hosea's mind stirred slightly, connecting it to his past in Chinatown.

"My lord, are you interested in acquiring the newspaper?"

Having just finished arranging the patrol, Zeng blinked and said, "Tell me in detail."

After hearing Hosea's story, he immediately decided, "Buy it, we must buy it!"

The battleground of public opinion must be occupied. Even if it is not needed now, it will definitely be useful in the future.

"Shall I go and talk to Mr. Thomas about the acquisition?" Hosea asked.

"No, there's no need to rush."

He had previously rejected the idea, saying, "That newspaper owner isn't completely desperate yet. Let's hold on for a couple more days. We'll contact him again when he tries to survive by selling equipment."

"Yes."

Sigrún has taught at the Iceland University of the Arts as a part-time lecturer since and was Dean of the Department of Fine Art from -. In – she held a research position at Reykjavík Art Museum focusing on the role of women in Icelandic art. She studied fine art at the Icelandic College of Arts and Crafts and at Pratt Institute, New York, and holds BA and MA degrees in art history and philosophy from the University of Iceland. Sigrún lives and works in Iceland.

Chinatown weapons factory.

When I entered the factory, the interior was completely different from what I had seen a few days earlier. The tall wooden frame was filled with thick brick walls and fireproof mortar, and dangerous operating areas were separated from other work areas by thickened brick and stone partitions.

A large pile of steel parts of various shapes were laid out on the ground, and engineers led by Lu Ban were assembling and debugging a new generation of machine tools.

Su Song, who was reviewing steel performance test records, noticed the commotion and looked up at Zeng Jing: "My lord, is there anything you need to instruct me on?"

"I do have some ideas and would like to hear your opinion."

He recounted Hosea's earlier talk about buying newspapers and asked, "These days, newspapers are filled with nothing but text and hand-drawn sketches, which are blurry and unrealistic."

Even if we buy the newspaper, it doesn't seem like we'd be very competitive. Could we print the on-site photos in the newspaper?

Upon hearing this, Su Song frowned slightly, but finally nodded and said, "It's possible, but it will require a significant investment of time, manpower, and money."

I once frowned and asked, "A very long time? How long is that?"

"My lord, it's difficult to give a specific timeframe."

Su Song gave a wry smile, then started counting on his fingers, explaining each difficulty one by one: "Currently, cameras on the market use the wet plate collodion process, which is cumbersome and slow to react, and the process needs improvement."

The photo issue was resolved. The printing process used the Giro method, which required manually dripping acid onto copper-zinc plates for etching, and the production time was several days.

In addition, current high-speed rotary printing presses are primarily designed for fast and clear text printing; using them to print images results in very blurry images, and this needs to be changed…

"In conclusion, we need to try and fail repeatedly in these three areas before we can find the right path."

"Okay, okay, I get it." He'd previously found this a bit daunting. "If we knew the technical direction beforehand, we could reduce research time, right?"

"That's correct," Su Song nodded.

He started frantically searching through his memories. He studied G-related subjects in college and vaguely remembered that the textbook mentioned the evolution of the camera and newspaper industries after their birth.

"I remember that the next process after the wet collodion process is gelatin dry plate printing. The general idea is to mix silver bromide into the gelatin in advance and then coat it evenly on the glass plate."

"I remember that the printed images were printed using the screen printing method, which converts the continuous tones of a photograph into countless tiny black dots of different sizes that are difficult to distinguish with the naked eye, and uses the density of these dots to represent light and shadow."

"I honestly don't remember the specific improvements made to the high-speed printing press."

He waved his hand: "Anyway, that's all I remember. I've given you the direction. As for people, there are eight scientists and engineers every day. Just tell me which type you need."

"As for the money, I'll have Dutch and Hosea figure it out."