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

Chapter 79 Which idiot put the polling station in Chinatown?

San Francisco.

Today marks the official start of the election.

Given the existence of the City and County Merger Act, this election will not only be held in San Francisco, but also simultaneously in San Francisco County, to elect the first government after the merger.

A total of fifteen polling stations were set up across 45 square miles of land, with a three-day voting period.

This is why all the white male citizens in San Francisco flocked to the nearest polling station, making the area extremely crowded.

A patrol team from Xinghan Hall was on guard nearby to prevent any troublemakers from causing trouble.

"No way, which idiot put a polling station in Chinatown? Are there any American citizens here that they can just put it there?"

Zeng Tai, who was strolling down the street, raised an eyebrow as he looked at the polling station set up in front of a shop in Chinatown. "And there are actually white people voting?"

Su Song, who was following along, said, "Two years ago, there were still many white people living in Chinatown. I guess the people who set up the polling stations just copied the polling stations from two years ago to save trouble."

Zeng Tai clicked his tongue and said, "Have Jian Yuan send people to drive these white people away and make them go to other polling stations. Damn, they smell bad and are filthy; just looking at them here is disgusting."

"Yes, my lord."

Upon receiving the order, several patrol teams from the vicinity rushed over and began to drive the people away.

Ignoring the arguing behind them, the two continued on their way.

A dozen minutes later, they arrived near the chemistry group's laboratory.

The laboratory was converted from a warehouse and is extremely spacious, with a guard at the entrance.

After putting on masks, the two entered the laboratory and came to a large pile of chemical equipment.

Corrosion-resistant reactors, high-efficiency separation devices, vacuum equipment, distillation flasks, condensers—on a table not far from these devices, some pale yellow powder was laid out.

"Is this the sulfonamide that was developed?"

Zeng Tai curiously examined this most potent antibacterial drug before the advent of penicillin and asked, "What's the current production volume?"

Su Song reported: "It's very low. What you see here, my lord, are pure laboratory products."

"However, thanks to the equipment developed with the help of the mechanical team, industrial production is expected to begin in six months."

Zeng Tai nodded and asked, "Have you conducted any experiments?"

Su Song said, "We did it. We injected the bacteria into the abdominal cavity of several mice, infecting them all. Then we injected half of the mice with sodium sulfadiazine solution."

"The results are clear: all the mice injected with sulfonamides survived."

Zeng Tai raised an eyebrow: "Human trials haven't been conducted yet?"

Su Song shook his head: "No, we plan to start tomorrow. After all, the results of the mouse experiment only came out yesterday, and the main focus for the next two days is to send people to recruit volunteers."

Inside a laundry room near Portsmouth Square.

The laundry room is designed with a front house and a back yard. The front house is used to receive guests, while the back yard is the work area for several laundry workers.

The huge washing tub was piled high with clothes covered in dust and dirt. Wang Qiuhui sat on a small wooden stool, placed the clothes on a washboard, and beat them with a mallet.

Each tap reduces the dirt on the clothes until it's no longer visible to the naked eye, then they're placed in another bucket. The ironing worker then takes over and irons the clothes flat with a heavy cast iron.

"Sister Qiuhui, the eldest brother of Xinghantang is looking for you."

At the sound of shouts coming from the front house, Wang Qiuhui, who was engrossed in her work, looked up.

It was a pretty face. She put down the mallet and walked over with a puzzled look in her eyes.

Inside stood a very tall man in a Xinghantang uniform. He nodded to Wang Qiuhui and said softly, "Ms. Wang Qiuhui, would it be convenient for us to speak privately?"

Wang Qiuhui was taken aback for a moment, then said softly, "It's convenient for me."

The two found a secluded spot, and the man from Xinghantang bluntly said, "I got some information from the clinic. Ms. Wang Qiuhui contracted many sexually transmitted diseases in the brothel, right?"

Wang Qiuhui's face paled, clearly recalling some unpleasant memories, but she still nodded: "Yes."

"That's right. Xinghantang has recently developed a new drug that can effectively treat various sexually transmitted diseases, but people need to undergo trials."

The man said, "So I wanted to ask if you're interested, ma'am? Don't worry, this medicine is free, and we'll even give you money for trying it."

Wang Qiuhui remained silent for a long time before finally gritting her teeth and nodding: "This servant agrees."

Day two.

The clinic is shaped like the Chinese character "凹".

When Wang Qiuhui arrived, dozens of women were already standing in the open space, and more women continued to arrive one after another.

"Akiho-nee, over here."

When a woman saw Wang Qiuhui, she quickly reached out and beckoned her over.

Wang Qiuhui moved gracefully, and the dozen or so women there were all sisters who had previously ended up in the same brothel.

They chatted about their recent situations, and soon a man with a tumor on his face came out with several nurses.

"It's been a long time since I've seen you. The girls look much better. Congratulations!"

Li Shizhen chuckled, exchanged a few pleasantries, and then said, "I won't say anything more. Please line up in an orderly fashion to enter the infirmary. Cuifen and Su'e will administer the injections."

"Dr. Li, aren't you coming?" a woman teased.

"Men and women are, after all, different," Li Shizhen explained.

'

The woman drew out her words, "But wasn't it you who treated me months ago?"

There were no female doctors at the time.

Li Shizhen coughed, turned to the nurses behind him, and instructed, "I will wait in the infirmary on the other side. If you are unsure about anything, just come and find me."

"Yes, teacher."

The three-day voting period felt like a long celebration for the entire city of San Francisco.

Every day, large groups of white male citizens flocked to various polling stations, some even traveling from farms dozens of miles away.

They wore their best clothes and lined up in long queues at the polling stations, their faces bearing a solemn expression as if they were participating in some great cause.

Of course, except for the one in Chinatown.

Voting ended on the evening of the third day.

The vote counting was conducted overnight at the city hall.

The hall was brightly lit, and the election officials sat around a long table. Ballots were taken out of the box one by one, and each ballot was counted as a vote for a candidate.

Before long, the ballots on the table were piled up like a small mountain.

At 3 a.m., the statistics were finally completed.

"11,000 votes in total? Are there really that many American citizens in San Francisco?"

An official stared at the vote count on the blackboard, taken aback. "Two years ago, the mayoral election only had a little over four thousand votes!"

Another official shrugged and said, "That's normal. Don't forget how many people the gold rush brought. Those who came a few years ago should have citizenship by now."

"Then let's announce the results tomorrow in the square in front of the city hall."

Someone rubbed their temples. "Alright, gentlemen, file all the votes. I have a feeling this result will cause a storm in San Francisco."

The election results were posted in Portsmouth Square early the next morning.

William Howard stared at the final results that had just been posted on the wall, his face turning ashen.

"This is impossible," he murmured. "This is absolutely impossible."

Mayoral candidate Thomas Brown received 5,555 votes.

Mayoral candidate William Howard received 3,867 votes.

There were also more than a thousand loose votes, which were distributed to several other candidates who were just there to make up the numbers.

Thomas Browne became mayor.

Meanwhile, members of parliament, judges, and prosecutors —

Almost all the important positions in the San Francisco government were filled by people Howard didn't know. The few names he recognized were all long-serving Democratic and American politicians in the area.

An assistant leaned over and said, "Mr. Howard, there's a problem. There aren't that many American citizens in San Francisco. They must have committed fraud!"

"That's right, they must have cheated!"

Howard gritted his teeth and strode towards City Hall. "I demand a check of the ballots! I demand a recount! Someone is rigging the votes!"

The election official stood in front of the city hall and said, "No problem, Mr. Howard. Please come with me, I'll take you to the verification."

The following morning, Thomas Brown was sworn in in front of City Hall.

The sun was shining brightly, and hundreds of citizens gathered in the square, cheering their victory.

Humphrey stood beside Brown with a polite smile and handed him the scepter, a symbol of the mayor's power.

"Congratulations, Mr. Brown," he said. "The city government has sent the election results to Sacramento. Once the governor and secretary of state confirm them and issue you your certificate of appointment, you will be officially in office."

Brown accepted the scepter and smiled in return, saying, "Thank you, Mr. Humphrey. Thank you for everything you've done for San Francisco during this time."

The two shook hands, and reporters in the square captured the moment with their film reels.

To be honest, the camera sold by the Daily Evening Post is really good. It's lightweight and compact, and its imaging speed is much faster than current wet plate cameras.

Not far away on the street corner, Howard stood in the shadows, staring intently at the scene.

Several people were standing next to him; they were his business partners or subordinates.

A chubby man leaned over and whispered, "Mr. Howard, our shipment from England has been detained. The port says it violated some regulations and needs to be inspected for a while; it can't leave yet."

Another thin, middle-aged man added, "At the bank, dozens more people came to withdraw money this morning. They were all small amounts, but there were just too many people. If this continues—"

Howard ignored them.

His gaze fell on one of the people next to Brown.

He was a fat, big-eared businessman, dressed in a well-tailored suit, smiling as he spoke to Brown.

Slytherin.

He was one of the biggest donors in this election. He had originally agreed to support Howard, but suddenly changed his mind at the last minute. And all of his dozens of workers voted for Brown.

Howard squinted.

"Slytherin—" he murmured the name, then turned and left.

They couldn't care less about the election defeat; the real problem was the bank.

When he arrived at the California Commercial Bank, he saw a long line of people waiting to withdraw money.

"What day is it today?" he asked.

The thin, middle-aged man wiped the sweat from his brow: "It's the third day. Dozens of people come to withdraw money every day."

How much reserve is left in inventory?

"Not much left. At the current rate, we can only hold on for two more days at most."

Howard clenched his fists; he knew someone was targeting him.

He had seen and used this kind of squeeze tactic many times.

The question is, who's targeting him? And why?

"Contact other banks in California and ask them to lend you money, but don't specify the purpose."

Howard quickly calmed down and offered a solution. "Also, contact the companies that have borrowed money from us, especially those whose repayment dates are approaching, and urge them to repay as soon as possible."

"Yes."

A sudden commotion arose ahead.

Howard looked over and saw several people withdrawing money shoving each other with the bank's security guards, and the scene was about to get out of control.

"Call the police!" the manager shouted.

"No need." Howard strode forward. "I'll go myself."

He walked through the crowd to the front of the bank.

The crowd fell silent instantly, and dozens of eyes turned to him at the same time.

"Mr. Howard!" someone shouted, "We need to withdraw our money! Where is our money?"

Howard raised his hand, signaling for everyone to be quiet.

"Gentlemen, you are certainly entitled to get your money back."

He said slowly, "California Commercial Bank has been operating for six years without a single problem. Withdrawing your money now will only cause you to lose out and forfeit those substantial dividends—"

"Oh, Mr. Howard, are you busy?"

A voice suddenly interrupted him, "So many people are gathered in front of your bank, something must have happened?"

Howard's expression changed.

The man squeezed out of the crowd; he was fat and big-eared, and dressed in a well-tailored suit.

"Mr. Slytherin," Howard said through gritted teeth, "what do you mean by this?"

Slytherin smiled, pulled a bankbook from his pocket, and held it high.

"Can't you tell? I'm also a depositor at your bank, with a full $30,000 in my account."

He paused, looking around, and said, "Gentlemen, Mr. Howard just said the bank is fine. So, I'd like to ask, if I want to withdraw the money now, will he be able to provide it?"

The crowd stirred.

Howard's face turned pale and then flushed.

Slytherin looked at him, her smile widening.

"Mr. Howard, please say something. Can you, or can't you?"

Howard stared intently at him, and suddenly understood something.

"You—" He opened his mouth, his voice hoarse. "You're the one who caused this backlash!"

Slytherin shrugged, offering no denial.

"Get the money, Mr. Howard. Thirty thousand dollars, now."

The crowd erupted into an even greater uproar.

"Withdraw money! Withdraw money! Withdraw money!"

Howard stood at the bank entrance, watching the people waving their passbooks wildly, and suddenly felt a wave of dizziness.

That afternoon, California Commercial Bank announced a suspension of payments.

The news caused an uproar throughout San Francisco.

Thousands of depositors flocked to the bank, crowding the entrance.

Some people cried, some cursed, and some banged on the door.

Bankers on Montgomery Street, caught in the crossfire, were furious and doing everything they could to recover their reserves.

After all, depositors can't tell which bank is going to fail; they'll just rush to whichever bank they have money in and demand to withdraw it.