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

"Brother, this Qingchong is dead." In the dimly lit mine, someone reached out and checked the corpse's breath.

"Same as always, throw him out. The wolves outside will take care of it for us," the man in the back said.

The two men lifted the corpse by its hands and feet, walked several dozen steps, and then expertly threw it into the valley next to the mine.

"what……"

After an unknown amount of time, the corpse in the valley suddenly moved. It groaned as it got up, its head throbbing with pain.

"Wasn't I playing Space Marines 2? Did Old Huang recruit me?"

Like the confluence of two oceans, some completely unfamiliar memories surfaced in his mind.

The beatings from white overseers, compatriots aiding and abetting the tyrants, and the unpalatable food...

Bad news, I've been transported to another world, specifically while playing Warhammer.

Good news, not Warhammer, but San Francisco, California, in the fifth year of the Xianfeng Emperor's reign, the legendary city of gold.

The original owner's name was Zeng Jing, a native of Xiangxiang. He boarded a ship to San Francisco with dreams of getting rich, but was sold into a mine like a pig, where he died as a miner after a year of being a miner's slave.

He was also known as Zeng Jing, a 21st-century college graduate who served in the military for two years and learned some self-defense techniques. After graduation, not wanting to work as a laborer in a company, he made a living by writing novels.

"The fifth year of the Xianfeng reign, converted to the Gregorian calendar, is 1855."

I quickly accepted the situation, calculated the years, and slowly exhaled a breath of stale air.

Two hundred and eleven years had passed since Emperor Chongzhen hanged himself on that old, crooked tree on Coal Hill. The second son of God had captured Nanjing two years earlier, and the Second Opium War was about to begin...

The people of that ancient land will have to endure nearly a century of suffering and humiliation before they can see the sun rise.

However, these grand narratives are somewhat distant from his present self.

"The most urgent thing is to escape from here first, and then find a place with food and drink to recuperate."

He got up from the ground and said in a low voice, "Brother, since we share the same name and are from the same hometown, I, a wandering ghost, will use your body."

"Go in peace. I will avenge you, take care of your parents back home, and raise your younger siblings so they won't be bullied."

He staggered past dozens of his compatriots' corpses, some rotting and others already skeletons, heading away from the mine.

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.

After traveling for an unknown amount of time, a road covered with wagon tracks came into view. Just then, the sound of horses' hooves echoed in the distance, growing louder as they approached.

Before I could decide whether to ask for help or run away, I heard a gruff voice full of malice say, "Look what I see! A Qing insect that escaped from the mine!"

"Thank God, I can have another glass of whiskey tonight!"

A gray horse stopped in front of him, with a middle-aged white man sitting on it, wearing a wide-brimmed hat and with a mouthful of rotten teeth.

He pulled a revolver from the holster on the saddle, pointed the muzzle at his former chest, and said, "Qingchong, hands up, don't make any sudden movements."

Oh no, oh no, oh no!

I cursed inwardly for a moment, then obediently raised my hands. My mind, meanwhile, raced, searching for a way to escape.

The white man dismounted swiftly and casually took a bundle of leather ropes from the saddle. He looked at Zeng Jing with an expression that suggested he was looking at some kind of animal, not a person.

"Chinaman, put your hands behind your back and cross them."

He arrogantly gave the order, and after watching those who had once obeyed perform the corresponding actions, he smiled with satisfaction.

"Very well, you've been spared a beating."

The white man approached, holding a gun in one hand and a leather rope in the other.

Perhaps because the insects in front of him were too compliant and weak, the white man's ever-tense vigilance cracked for a moment, and the muzzle of his right-hand revolver turned down for a brief instant.

It's now!

He once lunged forward and knocked down a white man in front of him.

"Fuck!"

The white man let out a muffled groan, his anger surging as he prepared to retaliate. But he found one of his arms being grabbed, and his former legs wrapped around his head and waist like vines.

Take this armbar!

Memories of practicing Jiu-Jitsu in his past life awakened in this body. He once used all his strength to lie back, and with a crack, the white man immediately howled in pain: "Ahhh, my arm!"

Instead of relaxing, he quickly got up and, while the white man was still groaning, picked up the revolver that he had dropped in pain not far away.

He pointed the gun at the white man's head, quickly pressed the hammer, and pulled the trigger!

boom!

After a gunshot, everything fell silent.

He had gripped the revolver tightly, panting heavily. As the adrenaline wore off, he began to dry heave, but only managed to vomit a little bitter liquid.

Just then, a line of cold, semi-transparent text appeared without warning in the center of his violently shaking vision:

【Name: Life for Life System】

[Host: Formerly]

[Unlock condition: Kill a human]

[Level: 1]

[Effect: Automatically generates one assassin daily, whose physical strength is 1.1 times that of a normal adult Homo sapiens male]

Current number of assassins: 0

Number of summonable assassins: 1

[Upgrade Requirements: Kill two humans (0/2)]

[Currently Unlocked Sub-items]:

[Hive Consciousness]: You can simultaneously obtain information perceived by all your subordinates and communicate with them telepathically.

The shock of suddenly being transported to another world, the exhaustion of surviving a disaster, the lingering fear of killing for the first time, the ecstasy of having a cheat code arrive... a mix of countless feelings overwhelmed him, and he could no longer suppress his emotions and began to laugh out loud.

"Hahaha, hahahahahaha, hahahahahahahahaha!"

Although his limbs were weak and he could barely stand, he was still laughing heartily, a wild, unrestrained, hoarse laugh.

"call!"

A panel pops up.

[Please select the race of the assassin: Asian, Caucasian, Negroid, Native American, Indian...]

After some thought, I finally chose the Caucasian race.

This is California, USA. During this vulnerable period, he must choose a face that will not attract attention as much as possible.

New options popped up again.

[Please select the assassin's race: Nordic, Mediterranean, Alpine, Dinara, Indo-Afghan.]

"Nordic style!"

As the final choice was made, a tall, blond, blue-eyed white youth appeared out of thin air and knelt before him: "Mein Herr!"

[Death Squad Number One: Unnamed]

[Ethnicity: Caucasian, Nordic type]

[Physical fitness: 11 (average for normal adult Homo sapiens males is 10)]

[Skills: Firearms Proficiency (Lv.2), Horsemanship (Lv.2)]

[Languages: German (Lv.2) English (Lv.1)]

He glanced at him and said, "You'll be called Leon. Go search the dead man's supplies and see what's inside."

"Yes, my lord!"

Leon immediately got up, searched the corpse's pockets and the horses nearby, and then took all the supplies.

"A twenty-dollar Double Eagle gold coin, two five-dollar Half Eagle gold coins, some loose silver coins worth a few cents. Half a can of coffee powder, a small bottle of brandy, a tortilla, and a piece of salted meat..."

"A hunting knife, a revolver, a rifle, and matching lead pellet bags, percussion caps, and a leather powder canister..."

He glanced at the spoils of war, then grabbed the food and began to wolf it down without a word. The coarse food stung his throat, so he downed it with a sip of brandy.

Within minutes, all the food was gone. With something substantial in his stomach, the weakness lessened somewhat.

He let out a burp mixed with the smell of food and alcohol, then stripped the clothes off the corpse, changed out of his own tattered clothes, and began to think about the future.

"Next, we need to figure out the exact location, gather intelligence, and once we find a safe place to stay and summon enough assassins, we can then carry out our revenge."

He looked ahead along the main road.

"Leon, let's go. Follow the road; our destination is the nearest town."