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

Chapter 94 Dutch's Big Plan in New York

The Secretary of State's Office.

A slightly overweight man with thinning hair sat behind his desk with a serious expression.

He is Secretary of State William L. Massey.

Sitting across from him at a desk was John F. Clapton, the British Minister to the United States.

"Mr. Clapton."

Massey pushed a diplomatic note in front of him and said slowly, "On behalf of the Government of the United States of America, I hereby lodge a formal and strong protest with the Government of the United Kingdom of Great Britain and Ireland."

"Your government is using British North American territories as a base to supply arms to Native American tribes that are in conflict with the United States."

"Your Excellency, this behavior disregards the spirit of lasting peace upheld by the Treaty of Ghent and constitutes a blatant interference in our internal affairs."

"If your government does not immediately cease this behavior, we are not opposed to starting a war in Canada!"

Clapton listened quietly to Massey's words, his brows furrowing deeper and deeper.

He opened the diplomatic note, took it, quickly glanced through it, and couldn't help but chuckle.

"Mr. Massey, are you playing some kind of April Fool's joke on me?"

"This says the British government sold arms to Native Americans in California? Where's the evidence? Where are the witnesses?" he said coldly. "You can't just rely on your word, can you?"

Massey glared at him, slamming his fist on the table. "Evidence? The Indian force that attacked the Southern California city was equipped with large-caliber new artillery, rapid-fire weapons, and breech-loading rifles. Isn't that evidence?"

"Two federal dragoon regiments were wiped out, millions of dollars in assets were reduced to ashes, and countless American citizens perished. Isn't this a witness?"

"Besides Britain, which other country could provide such equipment?"

Clapton chuckled. "No, no, no, maybe it's France, Spain, or even Russia?"

He stood up, carefully put away the note, and said, "Of course, I will still fulfill my duties as a diplomatic ambassador and send this absurd note back to Britain to be presented to Her Majesty the Queen and the Prime Minister."

"Well then, may I take my leave now, Mr. Secretary?"

Without hesitation, he turned and left the office.

The assistant waiting by the gate hurriedly followed Clapton and heard him say, "Charles, immediately send someone to return the diplomatic note I have to the country."

At the same time, I contacted George Aiken at the San Francisco consulate, asking him to compile information about what had happened in San Francisco and send it back to the US.

The assistant nodded, and after the two men left the building and boarded the carriage, he asked softly, "Mr. Clapton, should we inform the merchants scattered among the various Indian tribes to withdraw?"

"Notify them."

Clapton leaned back in the velvet armchair, murmuring to himself.

"Where did this Native American army in California come from? I remember we only provided aid to Native American tribes in Washington, Oregon, and other places."

He slowly exhaled a breath of stale air and began to close his eyes to rest.

Never mind, just send all the documents back and let the people back home have a headache.

Meanwhile, in New York.

This is the financial center of the United States, where countless speculators gather in pursuit of their dreams of getting rich overnight.

An ordinary ship was docked at the New York Harbor pier, and passengers poured out.

On deck, a gentlemanly man with a mustache, dressed in a double-breasted suit, took a deep breath and chuckled, "Hosea, Arthur, Strauss, can you smell it?"

Arthur nodded and said, "Oh, I can smell it. The mixture of sweat, feces, and bad breath is really irritating."

"Oh, poor Dutch, I didn't expect you to like the smell of this?"

Hosea sighed, "If I had known this would happen, I should have called Uncle over too. He has a strong body odor, so you could smell it all the time."

Dutch, his face darkening from their teasing, snapped angrily, "Idiot, I was talking about the smell of money!"

Strauss, who was at the back, straightened his clothes and interrupted the noisy trio: "Gentlemen, it's time for us to disembark."

"

The four disembarked from the boat, hailed a horse-drawn carriage on the street, and got in.

Dutch looked out the window. The dock was lined with masts and crowded with ships, with countless goods being unloaded and transported to various parts of the city.

"New York is much more bustling than San Francisco."

Hosea, who was standing to the side, closed his eyes to rest, but said, "Don't you even look at the difference in population? New York's total population has exceeded 600,000 this year, which is twelve times that of San Francisco."

"With a large population, the economy will naturally prosper."

Dutch raised an eyebrow: "This also means there are plenty of fools, enough for us to do as we please."

Arthur blinked and asked, "So where do we go now? To find those idiots?"

"No, those fools will come to us on their own."

Dutch smiled slightly, "Let's go to the First District first, rent a decent office on Broadway near Wall Street, and start a company."

Half an hour later, they got off the carriage.

The four walked along Broadway, passing up rows of upscale hotels, shops, and law firms, with well-dressed gentlemen coming and going.

"Let's choose this one..."

Dutch stopped and looked up at a four-story building.

A brass plaque hangs next to the main entrance, which reads: Broadway Building, Offices for Rent, Price Negotiable.

He turned to Arthur and the other two and instructed them, "Hosea, come with me upstairs and talk to the owner about the rent."

"Arthur, you and Strauss can find any law firm and have a lawyer draft a company application."

Arthur nodded and asked, "And then?"

Dutch said, "Go to Albany again and register the company with the Secretary of State's office there."

"

He grinned: "And then, my big plan can begin."

Outside San Francisco.

Guilliman, who had accompanied Zeng Tai on the hunt, asked curiously, "My lord, what exactly is the big plan that Dutch and the others are working on in New York?"

Zeng Tai put down the gun that was still smoking, and the assassins on the side quickly rode off to retrieve the prey.

He turned to Guilliman, puzzled, and asked, "Didn't he tell you?"

Guilliman shook his head and said, "He didn't say anything, just repeated that phrase: 'have a big...'"

"The plan" was made all very mysterious.

Zeng Tai said, "Actually, it's nothing. He just saw the aluminum blocks produced by electrolysis and wanted to use them to make a big splash in New York."

Guilliman suddenly realized: "A scam?"

"How can you call it fraud when it comes to stocks? It was a consensual transaction."

Zeng Tai looked at the deer he had picked up and began to plan tonight's dinner. He added, "By the way, remember to take stock of all the cash assets we have when we get back today and put them all together."

Guilliman nodded in agreement: "Is it that we need to buy any new minerals or equipment?"

That's part of the reason.

Zeng Tai said, "The main reason is that Daqi and his team will need a lot of cash for their future plans, so it's good to prepare in advance to avoid being caught off guard later."

While Zeng Tai and Guilliman were chatting, in New York, Dutch had already begun the first step of their plan.

"The third floor faces south, has good natural light, and offers a view of the banks and stock brokerage firms across the street."

Dutch shook the keys in his hand and stood in front of the window, saying to everyone, "The rent is one hundred and fifty dollars a month. It's a bit expensive, but it's worth it."

Arthur yawned and pulled the documents out of his pocket.

"I got the registration documents stamped with the state government's seal overnight."

Soon, the office on the third floor of the Broadway building was ready.

A bronze plaque hung at the entrance, and desks and chairs were placed inside. In the most conspicuous position was a specially made glass cabinet, inside which ten gleaming aluminum ingots were neatly stacked, each weighing one kilogram.

"Ten kilograms of aluminum; all the inventory produced in San Francisco recently is here."

Dutch stood in front of the glass case, nodding in satisfaction. "Now, everything is ready, except for the final push."

He turned to Hosea: "How's the communication with the newspapers going?"

Hosea pulled several newspaper clippings from his pocket: "The biggest newspapers in New York, the New York Herald..."

I've inquired with both the *New York Tribune* and the *Sun*. The price is $15 for a small fold, with a discount for consecutive weeks of publication.

"Then publish it for a week."

Dutch grinned: "I've already thought of the story: A penniless prospector has been wandering the Nevada wilderness for years when he accidentally discovers a shimmering mountain range, which, after testing, turns out to be a high-grade aluminum ore."

He exhausted his family fortune and endured countless failures, finally developing a secret formula late one night that transformed the ore into a pure aluminum ingot.

Arthur chuckled, "Dutch, your ability to lie without batting an eye is getting better and better."

"What lying? This is marketing."

Dutch smiled slightly: "People here always believe in stories of getting rich overnight. We're just going along with their wishes and giving them that story."

The next day, an inconspicuous GG appeared in the classifieds section of major New York newspapers: "New Continent Light Metals Development Corporation hereby announces to all sectors: After years of research in Nevada, our company has mastered an exclusive refining formula and can mass-produce pure aluminum at extremely low cost."

To prove our claims, we are publicly displaying samples of our refined aluminum ingots on the third floor of the Broadway Building. We welcome people from all walks of life and colleagues in the scientific community to come and verify them.

On the same day, in a corner of the business section, an article titled "My Road to Becoming a Millionaire" was quietly published.

The article tells the story of a young man who, after overcoming numerous hardships, finally developed a low-cost aluminum ore extraction technology and became rich overnight.

Soon, people noticed the company.

These days, there are many people who boast in newspapers, but very few who actually verify the truth on the spot.

"Is this the aluminum you extracted using your secret formula?"

A middle-aged man wearing a top hat stood in front of the glass case, staring at the silver-gray metal blocks with a gleam in his eyes.

"Yes, sir," Strauss said calmly, "this is extracted from the ore using our exclusive secret formula. You can pick it up and verify it."

The middle-aged man picked up a piece of aluminum, weighed it in his hand, and pinched it to confirm its authenticity. A surge of excitement welled up inside him.

"It is indeed free of impurities and very pure."

He murmured, barely able to contain his excitement.

Having done business in New York for so many years, he knew all too well the value of aluminum. It cost more than twenty dollars per ounce, even more expensive than gold, and was an essential item for the wealthy to flaunt their riches.

If someone could truly refine it at low cost—

"Do you sell your secret formula? I'm willing to pay a high price!"

Strauss smiled slightly but did not answer.

After "My Road to Riches" was serialized three times, Arthur became restless: "So many days have passed, and only a handful of people have come. Dutch, your trick isn't working?"

"Don't rush."

Dutch, puffing on his cigar, remained completely unfazed: "This is just a warm-up; the main event hasn't even started yet."

As Dutch said, more and more people came over time.

Bankers, speculators, journalists, curious citizens —

All sorts of people flooded into the office, and the exclusive interview that Hosea had paid for in advance made headlines in major newspapers at that moment.

All the interviews concluded with the statement: "If his refining process is truly feasible, the price of aluminum will plummet from its current level of over twenty dollars per ounce to just a few dollars per ounce—this will be a revolution in the ore industry!"

The whole of New York was in an uproar.

Of course, there were also some doubts.

Strauss looked at the well-dressed, white-haired old man before him, maintaining a polite smile: "Mr. Jonathan Edwards, have you confirmed the truth?"

Edwards put down the aluminum block, his expression serious.

He just conducted an experiment on site, and it is indeed a real aluminum block with a purity of at least 99%, far purer than aluminum produced by sodium reduction, and without any white sodium oxide spots on it.

"It's true? A new extraction method has appeared? How did you manage to do that?"

Strauss smiled slightly: "That's a company trade secret. However—"

He paused, then looked at Edwards: "Professor, if you're interested, we can give a public demonstration tomorrow. You bring the ore, and we'll use our secret formula to refine it in front of everyone, so you can witness it firsthand."

Edwards' eyes lit up: "Really?"

"really."

The news spread like wildfire.

The next morning, reporters from major newspapers, chemists, bankers, and speculators packed the hall.

In the center of the hall was a long table with a five-kilogram bauxite ore and a metal container on it.

Strauss picked up the metal container and showed everyone that it was empty. He then rolled up his shirt sleeves to indicate that he had nothing hidden on him.

"Gentlemen, today our company will be showcasing our exclusive refining process for the first time."

Strauss stood behind the table, his voice booming. "Professor, please confirm these ores."

Edwards stepped forward, carefully examined the basket of ore, and then showed it to several of his colleagues. He nodded and said, "It is indeed bauxite, of ordinary grade."

"it is good."

Strauss said, "Now, please feel free to take a portion of the ore as raw material for this demonstration."

Edwards did as instructed.

Strauss put the ore into a mortar, crushed it, and then put it into a container. He then secretly did something else and poured the solution from the beaker into it.

"This container contains my proprietary concoction," he explained. "The ore needs to react with the concoction at high temperatures. This process takes about half an hour."

He closed the container and lit the alcohol lamp at the bottom.

For the past half hour, the hall has been buzzing with discussion. Some were full of confidence, some watched coldly, and some whispered that it was definitely a scam.

Half an hour later, Strauss extinguished the alcohol lamp. He then opened the container, pointing it at the crowd in front of him.

A small piece of silver metal lies within a clump of powder.

The hall fell silent instantly.

Strauss took out the aluminum ingot and handed it to Edwards.

Professor Edwards took the aluminum ingot, his hands trembling as he scraped off the powder and began his experiment. A few minutes later, he looked up and nodded.

"It's real aluminum, with extremely high purity!"

Everyone's eyes lit up.

In the distance, Dutch whistled: "It's done."

Hosea, standing to the side, shook his head with a smile: "How did you even come up with this idea, using warp teleportation to pull this kind of trick?"