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

The Sharps carbine that was mentioned twenty years later refers to the Sharps M1874.

This rifle has a long range, high accuracy, and great power, making it the most popular model among all generations of Sharps rifles.

Although it was still single-shot and manually loaded, its rate of fire and magazine capacity were inferior to the British Lehmetford rifle, which began to be adopted more than a decade later.

But one must take things one step at a time. With the current level of technology, developing the Sharps M1874 would be a revolutionary blow to the Americans and even the world.

The four assassins whispered for a while before replying, "Master, to achieve our goal, we need a series of high-precision processing equipment."

First, British-made milling machines, turret lathes, and precision lathes were used to manufacture a second generation of machine tools with even higher precision.

Another suicide bomber added, "Secondly, the steel used for the barrel and bolt must also be remelted. Existing wrought iron and ordinary steel cannot withstand the high chamber pressure of metallic cartridges, so we need to develop special steels with higher strength."

Zeng nodded and said, "Make a list of the equipment needed and give it directly to Dutch in San Francisco. Buy what you can, and if the price is too high or it's not available for sale right now, have Dutch borrow it from his counterparts in California."

"Yes, my lord, are there any requirements regarding the location of the factory?"

After some thought, he said, "Let's choose Chinatown."

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 Montgomery Street in San Francisco.

Dutch and Hosea, dressed in smart suits, were pretending to be investment businessmen from the East, raising their glasses and chatting with a group of financiers.

Upon hearing a certain piece of news during the gathering, Dutch had a sudden inspiration and contacted his past self through the telepathic network.

"My lord, I have a plan."

After a moment of silence, he said, "Speak."

"News of the gold transport team being hijacked and killed won't reach San Francisco for at least a few days. We can use this time difference to short the gold mining company's stock."

Dutch explained his plan: "We've just met a stockbroker who's backed by Lucasbank. This bank has enough credit and capital to guarantee the final settlement of the short-selling deal."

"Dutch, I think it's a bit risky."

Hosea joined the conversation: "Although the gold mining company's stock price has been unstable recently, one piece of bad news will not cause its stock price to plummet, and the profits we can obtain will not be too high."

"No, Hosea, Dutch's idea is excellent."

He once said softly, "One piece of bad news is certainly not enough to cause their stock price to plummet, but what if it's a series of bad news?"

Short selling in the 19th century was essentially a high-risk betting agreement that relied on the credit of individuals and banks.

Not to mention the western United States, even in London and Paris, there are no regulations or relevant laws to regulate this.

In other words, as a short seller, you can use any means necessary to drive down the stock price. This includes spreading rumors, creating disturbances, and even resorting to physical destruction…

And this is a skill that his former subordinates happened to possess.

"Dutch, you and Hosea are in charge of shorting the gold mining company's stock. I will have my henchmen give you all the gold and money we've looted these past few days."

"Arthur, you take a group of men and loiter around the gold mine, firing a few shots now and then, making it look like you're going to plunder the gold."

"Three days later, release the news that the entire guard team was wiped out and that the gold mine has been targeted by the gang. Make it a big deal, so that everyone in San Francisco and even California who owns stocks will know."

"The gold mined last month is gone, and the gold mined this month may not be able to be transported out. With these two pieces of bad news combined, those nervous stock market investors in California will help us push the company's stock price into the mud."

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.

The following day, Montgomery Street, Lucas Bank.

Dutch and Hosea, dressed in suits, stepped into the building, which was constructed of heavy stone.

Inside the lobby, the blonde woman behind the round counter looked up. "Good morning, gentlemen. What service do you require?"

"Good morning, beautiful lady. We have an appointment with Mr. Sherman," Dutch said.

"Do you have an appointment?" the woman asked with a light laugh.

"Yes, Tacitus Guirgo and Joshua Matthews," Dodge said.

"Okay, please wait a moment." The blonde woman got up and walked towards the inner room, returning a moment later. "Gentlemen, please follow me."

The woman led the two into an office.

Behind the desk, a middle-aged man with a meticulously trimmed beard and sharp eyes stood up and extended his hand.

"William Tecumseh Sherman, manager and stockbroker at Lucas Bank, Mr. Kilgo, Mr. Matthews, it's a pleasure to see you both again."

Dutch shook hands with him firmly and said with a smile, "Mr. Sherman, no wonder you recommended Lucas Bank so highly at yesterday's banquet."

"It's just my duty, and I hope you gentlemen understand."

Sherman gestured for the two men to sit down and expertly poured three cups of coffee. "Furthermore, as one of the largest private banks in California, Lucasbank has the capability to ensure that whatever kind of financial transaction you gentlemen wish to undertake is completed and fulfilled as agreed."

Dutch picked up his coffee, took a sip, and smiled slightly: "Then I'll be frank."

Last month, the Daily Evening Post published news of Mokel Mishir Gold Mining Company's falsified accounts, causing its share price to fall for several weeks. Recently, the share price has stabilized and even risen.

But I feel that the problems at Mihir Gold Mine are definitely not limited to this, so I have a plan.

I'm going to short this company's stock!

Sherman remained calm and showed no surprise. He said with practiced ease, "Mr. Kilgore, the bank does indeed have many clients who have purchased shares in Michael Gold Mining Company and are very optimistic about their stock price."

Through my role as matchmaker, I believe quite a few gentlemen would be willing to engage in a bet with the two gentlemen.

"Currently, one share of Mihir Gold Mining Company has a par value of seven dollars and fifteen cents, with 10,000 shares outstanding. How many shares do you intend to short?"

Dutch countered, "How many shares can you borrow here?"

Sherman took out a heavy ledger with a leather cover, quickly flipped through it, and replied, "Around three thousand shares."

"Then three thousand shares, for a period of one week."

Dutch made a decisive decision and immediately put forward another plan. "At the same time, I will also short their company's gold acceptance bills for the next month. I bet they won't be able to pay in full."

Sherman raised his eyelids, carefully examined Dutch, and then slowly said, "Mr. Kilgore, as the bank's manager, I must remind you."

Since you are not a familiar client of our bank, to control risk, you need to pay a margin equivalent to 50% of the total transaction amount, which will be frozen by the bank.

As he spoke, he picked up a dip pen and quickly began to calculate: "Three thousand shares, at $7.15 per share, totaling $21,450. The gold mining company has historically produced an average of about 500 ounces of gold per month, which is worth about $10,300 at the current gold price."

The total value, when combined, is $31,785. In other words, you will need to submit a deposit of $15,800.

Furthermore, after the transaction is completed, the bank will charge a 10% guarantee fee and commission. This fee can, of course, be deducted from your profits at that time.

"That makes perfect sense." Dutch's expression remained unchanged as he nodded slightly to Hosea.

Hosea laid the leather suitcase he had been carrying flat on the smooth mahogany table, unlocked the latch, and lifted the lid.

Inside the box were fifteen neatly arranged gold bars, each clearly engraved with the San Francisco Mint's eagle emblem, along with the marks of fifty ounces and 90% purity.

Dutch lit a cigar, the smoke curling upwards: "I only brought fifteen gold bars this time, still short two thousand dollars. Mr. Sherman, you don't mind if I deliver it next time, do you?"

Sherman's gaze swept over the gold bars, and he laughed loudly, "For a client like you, of course, there's no problem."

He took out a standard contract that had been prepared beforehand and handed it to Dutch.

"I'll contact the gentlemen who are interested in betting right now. You can take a look at the contract here first."

After saying that, Sherman left the office to contact those who owned stock in the Michael Gold Mining Company.

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.

Two days later, on Montgomery Street, inside a grand stone building.

A middle-aged man in a wool coat lit a cigar and stared intently at the huge map of California on the wall.

At the very center of the map are the broad Coast Mountains and the Sierra Nevada Mountains, with two red spikes pinned to one corner of the Coast Mountains, representing his two gold mines.

A rapid knocking interrupted his thoughts. Before he could respond, the man pushed the door open and entered, his face pale: "Mr. Michael, something has happened!"

Mokel Mihir turned to look at the newcomer, his heart sinking: "What is it?"

The secretary swallowed hard and said, "The Daily Evening Bulletin has published another piece of bad news about our company."

Before he could finish speaking, Mokel Mihir snatched the newspaper from his hand and started reading it himself.

Soon, he saw news about his company on the second page.

The huge black headline hit him like a heavy punch, making him dizzy.

Is the end coming for Mokel Mishir Gold Company?

The article below the title reads: "According to reliable sources, two days ago, Mokeler-Mihiel Gold Mining Company was ambushed by an unidentified gang in Wolf Valley while transporting gold from the mine to San Francisco."

Former Army Sergeant and head of the guard, William Schneider, and ten guards were killed on the spot, and gold worth $10,000 was stolen.

Other reports indicate that the gang of thugs has not stopped and is suspected of loitering around the area surrounding the mines owned by Mihir Company, with unclear intentions.

Does this series of blows mean that this gold mining company, which has recently been embroiled in scandals, is on the verge of collapse?

Mokel Mihir stood there, still reeling from the news, when the office door was suddenly pushed open once more.

"Michael, is what the newspaper said true?"

A fat man in an expensive suit, panting heavily, burst in, spitting as he demanded, "Is there really no gold this month?"

"Fake news! Utterly fake news!"

Mokeller turned to his shareholders, tearing the newspaper in his hand to shreds, his anger blazing. "Mr. Sterling, this is fake news fabricated by our competitors to drive down our stock price!"

Whether it's true or false, he absolutely cannot admit to this news.

Otherwise, it would be a fatal blow to the company's stock price, which had finally managed to recover!

Those vultures with keen sense of smell in the financial district, those competitors waiting for him to go bankrupt so they can acquire his assets at a low price, will pounce on him like sharks smelling blood and tear him to shreds!

Sterling wasn't so easily fooled. He waved his newspaper and shrieked, "Fake news? Where's William Schneider? Why hasn't he returned with the gold yet?"

"And the newspapers also said that the mine was being targeted by bandits and could be attacked at any time. Is that also false?"

Mokel said in as calm a tone as possible, "Mr. Sterling, you know that the mountain roads from the mines to San Francisco are rugged and difficult to traverse. William and his men may have just been delayed by the weather or the roads."

"As for the gold mine being besieged, even if it is true, you personally inspected the mine. The terrain there is treacherous and the fortifications are strong. It would be impossible to break through without dozens or hundreds of armed men."

"Enough, Michael!"

Sterling roared, interrupting him, "Your excuses don't even fool me, do you think you can fool all the idiots and bastards in California who're holding our stock and trembling with fear?"

"Now you only have two things to do: First, no matter what method you use, immediately take out the gold and publish a rebuttal to this report."

Second, prove to everyone in San Francisco, Sacramento, and San Jose who are paying attention to this that your mine is still operating and producing gold continuously!

He was breathing heavily and said fiercely, "I'll give you a week to bring that damn stock price back up, otherwise, even if I lose half of my principal, I will sell all the stocks I have!"

I'd rather lose money than go down with this wrecked ship!

After saying that, Sterling slammed the door and left.

Moker took a few deep breaths and gave orders to his secretary, who was standing there dumbfounded: "Go to the dock area and the labor market right now, find eleven strong and healthy men, and give them decent clothes. This afternoon, they'll ride back to the company in a grand display."

Then we'll find a reporter from a newspaper we know well, take photos of them entering the company, and publish them tomorrow saying that our security team has returned safely, refuting the rumors in the Daily Evening Post!

"Yes, Mr. Michael." The secretary hurriedly took notes.

"Also, contact the security company and have them send me twenty people—the most reliable and capable ones!"

A ruthless glint flashed in Mokeller's eyes. "I'll personally go to Wolf Valley and the mine to see which bastard is behind this!"

"Sir, this is too dangerous!" the secretary exclaimed.

"Danger?"

Mokeller sneered, opened his desk drawer, and took out a well-maintained Colt revolver.

"The most dangerous time is when the company goes bankrupt, creditors come knocking, and the court seizes all assets. That's when life is worse than death."