Reborn in 1878: America's Number One Bandit

Chapter 77 These are our people!
Buck's breathing became increasingly labored.

The Pinkertons looked down on him as a militia officer, but damn it, these two detectives from Chicago are now the highest command in this force!
"FUCK!"

Buck had no choice but to suppress his anger, pick up the flask again, and take a big gulp.

Thorne stood up and scanned the soldiers on the defensive line, their necks hunched over from the cold and exhaustion.

"Get the hell together, all of you!"

"Don't think you're safe just because it's midnight! Listen, the best time for them to attack is just before dawn! That's when you'll be most tired and most vulnerable to death!"

Four o'clock in the morning.

The militiamen were exhausted to the extreme, and their eyelids began to droop wildly.

A cloud of mist rose up from the western valley without warning.

At first it was just a thin layer of gauze, but soon it turned into a thick white cotton ball.

They rolled across the wilderness in clumps, surging into the town of Saint Raphael.

Within five minutes, the town was completely enveloped in thick fog.

Visibility dropped sharply to less than twenty yards.

"Damn! Why did it suddenly get foggy?!"

A soldier swallowed hard, a bad feeling creeping over him.

"Quiet!"

Thorne and Kane squinted, carefully observing the movements within the fog.

At this moment, their nerves were stretched to the limit!

Kane's ears twitched; he caught something unusual!
It's footsteps!

Very slight, but rhythmic, it wasn't one person, but a group, approaching their main defensive line!

Kane immediately nudged Thorne beside him with the butt of his gun.

Thorne had already noticed it.

In the thick fog, about fifty yards directly in front of them, some dark figures were moving about.

The fog made the shadows appear distorted and eerie.

"Everyone..."

Buck immediately ordered: "Load the bullets and aim straight ahead!"

The dark figure in the fog was getting closer and closer.

Thirty yards.

There were only a few shadowy figures, about twenty or thirty in total.

They were lined up in a loose row, each holding a long gun, and were approaching at a pace close to a jog.

Buck grinned maliciously: "These Irish bastards..."

"Did they really think we were all asleep? To attack our 800-strong defense line with this piece of garbage formation?"

"I fucking overestimated them! What a bunch of idiots! A complete rabble!"

Thorne and Kane remained silent, their attention focused entirely on the approaching targets.

25 yards!

This is the distance at which a shotgun can exert its maximum power!

Buck couldn't wait any longer. He jerked halfway up from behind cover: "Fire! Turn them into mincemeat!!!"

"hold on!"

Thorne was about to reach out to stop Buck, but it was too late.

Upon hearing their leader's order, the militiamen immediately opened fire without hesitation.

They couldn't hold back any longer!

The fear, exhaustion, and anger that had been building up all night were transformed into the purest form of violence at this moment!
Upon seeing them open fire, Pinkerton agents also opened fire.

Nearly eight hundred rifles, shotguns, and revolvers fired simultaneously!
The deafening gunfire coalesced into a devastating bolt of lightning, sweeping across the fog-shrouded street!
"Puff puff puff!!"

The figures in the mist offered no resistance, like rag dolls being torn apart in a gale. Their limbs were ripped apart by bullets, exploding into clouds of blood mist in mid-air before crashing to the ground!

"Fight! Keep fighting!"

Buck frantically pulled the bolt, feeding bullet after bullet into the chamber and firing: "Kill these Irish bastards! Leave no one alive!"

The militia soldiers and mercenaries were all in a frenzy, with their rifle butts resting on their shoulders, unleashing a torrent of firepower!

The gunfire lasted for a full three minutes.

Until the gun barrels were scorching hot, not a single dark figure remained standing in the fog!

"Ceasefire!"

"Cease fire!!!"

Captain Thorne had to fire a shot into the air to calm the frenzied soldiers down. "Cease fire! Don't waste bullets!"

The gunfire gradually subsided and eventually stopped.

"Hahahahaha!"

Buck leaned on his rifle, panting heavily.

"Well done, brothers!"

"We wiped them all out! Those idiots!"

Kane and Thorne exchanged a glance, their expressions grave.

"Too easy."

Kane said in a low voice.

"Something is wrong."

Thorne beckoned to the flank of the defensive line: "Tommy! You, and Jack! Go check the bodies, watch out for traps!"

"Yes, Captain!"

Two agents emerged from the bunker, one on the left and one on the right.

Buck spat impatiently, "What's wrong with that? They're just a bunch of desperate mad dogs trying to make a last-ditch effort. You Chicagoans overthink things!"

Thorne ignored him and continued to stare straight at the fog.

Less than thirty seconds.

"Ah!! Captain!!"

Suddenly, Tommy screamed through the fog!
"FUCK! Captain! You—you need to come and take a look!!"

Thorne and Kane's hearts sank.

"Something's wrong!"

"Lieutenant Buck, come with us!"

The two captains immediately climbed out of their cover, with Buck following closely behind, cursing and swearing.

Jack stood frozen in place, his eyes wide with disbelief.

"what's the situation?"

Lieutenant Buck shoved Tommy aside roughly and strode over: "Never seen a dead man before? FUCK, even two shoeshine girls in Chicago are better than you..."

The cursing stopped abruptly!

Thorne and Kane followed closely behind, the three of them, their eyes fixed on the scene before them.

Nearly thirty bodies lay in pools of blood and mud, contorted in various ways!
The body isn't the key issue; it's the strange things at the scene.

"What the hell is going on?"

Buck pointed to something clutched tightly in the hand of a corpse: "Are they insane?!"

What these people are holding are not guns at all.

Instead, they were rough wooden sticks, chopped into rifle shapes with an axe!
Kane knelt down and took the corpse's hand.

The corpse's hands were bound to a wooden stick with hemp rope, causing them to become bloody and mangled.

Kane then ripped off the rag used to gag the corpse's face.

It was a face he recognized.

"They are Sullivan's men."

“Daniels from the Wolverines, I treated him to drinks at headquarters in Chicago last month.”

"W-what?"

Buck's mind was buzzing. He rushed to the nearest corpse like a madman and tore open the man's shirt, which was riddled with bullet holes.

"no no!!"

In the mist, the brass badge revealed the person's identity.

Pinkerton National Detective Agency.

Thorne's eyes widened in horror, and a surge of purplish-red, liver-colored blood rushed from his neck to his forehead.

Those Irish shredded meatballs were actually members of the Pinkerton Detective Agency!!

"Bastard! Bastard, ahh ...

He grabbed Buck by the collar and yelled, "You bastard, who gave you the order to fire! These are our Pinkerton brothers!"

P.S.: I received a notification from the editor that it will be available for purchase tomorrow.

Thank you all for your continued support. I won't say much more. I'll guarantee at least 10 chapters when the book goes on sale tomorrow to repay your kindness.

Brothers, watch my performance! If you're not satisfied, hit me!
(End of this chapter)