Reborn in 1878: America's Number One Bandit

Chapter 45 Mr. Cross, we can give you a 20% discount.

Cross kicked a coffin with the tip of his boot.

"Can someone tell me something about those Irish bastards?"

All the officials turned their gazes toward Thompson.

Thompson knew he couldn't escape it.

He steeled himself and stepped out of the crowd.

“You.” Cross looked him up and down with disdain: “You mean Thompson? That coward who led over seventy armed policemen but didn’t fire a single shot and ran away with his tail between his legs?”

Thompson's face instantly turned a deep liver color.

"If it were in my army."

Cross said coldly, "Before you could utter the word 'surrender,' my bullet had already pierced the back of your head. Now, tell me about what happened that day. Don't leave out any details."

Under Cross's murderous gaze.

Thompson briefly recounted the terrifying scene in the thick fog that night, from the appearance of the headless horseman to the bandits' psychological attacks and the officers' mental breakdown.

Finally, he tried to defend himself, saying, "Sir, the situation that night was too bizarre. Those headless corpses... the officers were terrified. They all ran away, and it was no use for me to fight alone."

"Then you should die there!"

The skinny guy behind Cross sneered, "As a commander, you either come back victorious or die on the battlefield! What kind of man runs away like a dog?!"

Thompson was so badly scolded that he couldn't even lift his head.

Cross walked to a table and swept the documents off the table.

Have someone lay a map of California on it.

"From now on,"

With a heavy stroke of his finger on the map, an invisible line encircled Marin County and Sonoma County:

“All law enforcement forces in Marin and Sonoma counties are under my control. You have only one task: to cooperate with me unconditionally. Anyone who dares to disobey me will have their head hung on a flagpole.”

He turned to a clerk: “Immediately, report to me all the Irish gathering places in both counties. Whether they are villages, construction sites, or fucking brothels! I need a detailed list.”

"First, send your cops, those who haven't wet themselves yet, to find out exactly where those thugs are hiding."

"Once my militia battalion arrives,"

A cruel smile spread across his face: "Then launch a cleanup operation!"

Thompson, after all, was a local strongman.

Cross turned his gaze back to him: "Strawberry Town, what's going on now?"

Thompson quickly replied, "The wealthy people in town all sold off their assets at low prices and ran away. Later, some fearless businessmen came and took over the shops and farms, and now the town is barely managing to keep running."

"Hmph, a bunch of foolish businessmen."

Cross sneered dismissively: "They actually have no confidence in the state government; they deserve to lose their assets!"

“Thompson,” he commanded, “you lead the way. I’m going to Strawberry Town now.”
-
When Thompson appeared at the town entrance, he immediately caused a commotion.

Those townspeople who remained came out of their shops and houses.

"Isn't this Sheriff Thompson? The town is safe now, and you're back to patrol?"

Several idlers sitting at the tavern entrance burst into laughter.

"How dare he come back?"

"Hey! Thompson! Where's your gun? Did you throw it to those Irishmen too?"

"Coward! Get out of Strawberry Town!"

Thompson gripped the reins tightly, remaining silent.

The moment Cross and his group stepped into the town, Lawson knew.

We should go and see this old butcher.

His consciousness took over the role of the captain of the "White Tiger Security Company" who was patrolling the town.

Hank Anderson's body. Hank pulled on the reins and gestured to the team behind him.

A dozen or so tall, white youths carrying Winchester rifles on their shoulders came up from the other end of the street to meet them.

They rode quart horses and wore uniform khaki suits with tiger head markings.

"Mr. Thompson,"

Hank (Lawson) reined in his horse, his gaze passing over the former sheriff and landing directly on Cross, asking, "And who are these gentlemen?"

Thompson knew who these people were and introduced them: "Captain Hank, this is Mr. Cross, the special envoy sent by the governor."

Cross stared at Hank and asked scrutinizingly, "Anglo kid, who are you? What are you doing in Strawberry Town?"

Hank (Lorson) took off his cowboy hat and bowed slightly: "Sir, we are from 'White Tiger Security Company'."

We have been jointly entrusted by all the new residents of Strawberry Town and have signed a formal legal contract.

From this moment forward, we will be responsible for protecting the property and lives here until that Irish gang is wiped out.

"White Tiger Security Company?"

Cross raised an eyebrow: "A small company I've never heard of dares to claim it can wipe out the Irish gang?"

Lawson laughed, spreading his hands: "Otherwise, who else but our company would protect these poor townspeople? The police?"

His gaze shifted to Thompson: "Mr. Thompson, are you sure you can handle this?"

"You!" Thompson was so angry that he trembled all over.

Cross laughed: "Very courageous. I hope you don't wet your pants when you actually meet the bandits."

He seemed to have lost interest and was preparing to leave for the next investigation site.

These so-called security companies are nothing but opportunistic speculators taking advantage of the chaos, and are not worth mentioning at all.

Just then, a dull thud of hooves came from the direction of the town entrance.

A much larger convoy was seen driving into the town.

There were forty valiant knights.

Black uniform with a tiger head emblem.

Ten people in the group were British whites, while the other thirty had Asian features.

The majority of the Asian faces in California were Chinese laborers who built the railroads, with a small number of immigrants from Japan.

But the group of people in front of him were completely different from the Chinese people he remembered.

They were strong, with neatly shaved short hair and cold eyes.

Cross turned to Hank (Lossen): "Your company also hires Japanese employees?"

Lawson smiled slightly: "Sir, have you ever seen such a tall and imposing Japanese samurai?"

Kroos's face darkened:
"So they are Chinese? Your company actually hired Chinese people to save costs."

A bunch of cunning, cowardly cowards who only know how to follow others around and pick up the scraps! You want them to hold guns? They probably couldn't even pull the trigger!

“You’re wrong, Mr. Cross.”

Lawson's smile remained unchanged: "The Chinese are one of the bravest, most loyal, and strongest fighting races in the world. They are exceptional warriors."

"Humph."

Cross didn't believe such nonsense at all and was too lazy to argue anymore.

He suddenly pulled on the reins, and with his men, turned and left.

Behind him, Lawson spoke slowly:
“Mr. Cross, you are getting on in years. If you encounter any difficulties in the fight against bandits, you can always come to our White Tiger Security Company for help.”

"We are very happy to cooperate with the state government. Since you are a senior citizen, we can give you a 20% discount!"

P.S.: A different way to ask for monthly votes.

(End of this chapter)