Dual wielding volcanoes, killing through the west

Such direct and blatant insults have been unheard of for a long time.

Sam himself wasn't a very confident person, especially given his background and the surname that hadn't brought him any benefits but instead caused him constant setbacks. Especially now, he had to confront one of the sources of his inferiority complex.

Wilson Wagner.

There's a Chinese idiom, "a mother's status rises with her son's," but that only applies to ordinary families. A child achieves success through their own hard work, and the whole family benefits. In aristocratic circles, however, the opposite applies. You need a prestigious lineage to truly benefit from your family's reputation and resources.

Sam and Wilson share the same father. However, Wilson's mother was a prominent old noblewoman in the First State, while Sam's mother was just a maid.

So now, Wilson can sit at the end of this bench and, as the mayor of Park City, cast a disdainful glance at him.

Sitting next to Wilson was Jonah Wagner, who served as the mayor's chief secretary. He only glanced up at Sam when he entered, and the rest of the time he was busy taking notes, looking quite worried.

Next, people sit in order of their power.

The entire table is made of ebony, and it looks solid and sturdy.

The long table was shaped like an arrow, as if all power automatically converged on Wilson in the direction the arrow pointed. He was overweight, especially his face, which was bulging with fat from indulging in too much food and wine. His narrowed eyes, especially when looking at him, would shoot out a cold gaze.

"You'd better really have something important to say."

He tapped the table and said coldly, "The gentlemen here are all very busy."

……

Sam stared blankly at everything in the council chamber.

The council chamber was quite spacious, with over twenty kerosene lamps nearby and a fireplace at the far end of the wall casting a warm glow. Outside, the wind and rain lashed against the windows, producing only a slight tremor.

In this warm and comfortable room, the sound of rain actually helps one fall asleep.

In front of each attendee was a plate of unfinished food: lobster with cream sauce, accompanied by a glass of sherry.

The aroma of wine, cream, and the unique, fresh, and tender scent of lobster.

"Gululu——"

His stomach growled, reminding him that he hadn't eaten in a long time.

A burst of laughter rose from beneath the group of men in suits.

Chapter 741: Could it be that I am also a bastard?

"Is it funny?"

A hint of anger flashed across Sam's usually taciturn face.

From childhood to adulthood, he had countless reasons to remain silent, because he had nothing of note to offer. In every situation, he could only lower his head and work silently, trying to gain a sliver of goodwill from others through endless, meaningless repetitive tasks. This was also his mother's teaching; she always believed that those who work diligently and conscientiously will eventually stand out.

However, what she didn't know was that this bit of goodwill might have to be exchanged for utter contempt, disdain, and disdain.

Sam kept bearing these negative emotions; he had no other choice but to endure them.

However, seeing this scene in the council chamber, he finally couldn't bear it any longer.

"What did you say?" Wilson's tone quickly turned cold.

“I say, is it funny, sirs?” Sam stepped forward, glaring angrily, and roared, “You’re all here drinking and eating creamy lobster… Have you even gone out and seen what this city has become?!”

"While you were leisurely having your meeting, those 3872 workers crammed into the shantytowns, along with their families, were struggling to even get a hot meal or a clean drink. Food was scarce, medicine was unavailable, and the houses were as fragile as cardboard, collapsing at the slightest breeze after being soaked in water! Many had persistent high fevers and were barely holding on by sheer willpower, on the verge of collapse!"

He seemed to be venting all his emotions, pointing his finger in the air, and in his excitement, he even spat out saliva.

"I would like to ask you all, are these people actually citizens of this city?"

"They worked day and night in the factory. How much of the profits of [Atlantic Steel Manufacturing Company] came from their blood and sweat! Now that the hurricane has come, what are your measures? What are your policies? Are you just going to leave these three thousand-plus lives in that mud pit to rot and die?!"

……

In the game of politics, few people would engage in such a confrontational and open conflict.

The eyes of these attendees were undoubtedly filled with disgust.

"..." Wilson casually picked at his ear. "Are you done?"

"You haven't answered my question yet," Sam said through gritted teeth, "Mr. Mayor!"

"Heh...who do you think you are?" Wilson grinned, revealing a set of gleaming teeth. "The only reason you were able to say all that was because you happen to share the same last name as me. Otherwise...I would have had the guards throw you out long ago."

"Crack!"

He grabbed a lobster claw and snapped it off.

The crab shells flew off, releasing a delicious aroma of meat.

"Food, medicine, water... Do you think I can conjure these things out of thin air with a wave of my magic wand?"

Sam roared, "Give them even a tenth of the supplies you're currently enjoying, and it would be more than enough!"

“Shut up, you bastard.” Wilson’s expression suddenly changed. “You still don’t seem to understand… I am the mayor of this city.”

"The city's supplies were never plentiful to begin with. I was in charge of the overall allocation and deployment. You, a mere customs officer, are meddling in my affairs? Isn't that a bit too much of a meddling?"

"Moreover……"

He slowly rose, bracing himself on the edge of the table with both hands, and stared at Sam with an extremely cold gaze.

"What does it matter to me whether the people in those flea nests are dead or alive?"

"..." Sam's pupils dilated slightly. "What did you say?"

"Get lost, you bastard." Wilson waved his hand and sneered, "You've wasted enough of our time."

Two burly guards immediately stepped forward, each grabbing one of Sam's arms. Sam struggled desperately, but his physique was rather frail and he lacked strength. He was quickly lifted off the ground and thrown out the door like a sack of flour.

----

"Boom!"

Just as he was feeling dizzy, a strong supporting force suddenly came from behind him, holding him firmly up.

……

"……open?"

Seeing his face, for some reason, Sam felt a sense of security.

Zhang Renfeng helped him steady, patted him on the shoulder, and then turned around. Facing the onlookers sitting at the long table, the smile on his face instantly faded.

He strode forward, taking long strides, towards them.

“For God’s sake…” Wilson frowned, complaining with considerable dissatisfaction, “Have you all been drinking too much? This is a yellow-skinned foreigner! How can you let a yellow-skinned foreigner into City Hall? Isn’t this chaos?”

Two guards rushed forward to push Zhang Renfeng out the door.

"Thump—!!"

Zhang Renfeng didn't stop walking. With a gentle push, the two tall guards were knocked over as if they had been headbutted by a wild boar.

They hit the edge of the long table with two thuds, blood gushing out, and they clutched their heads and wailed.

At the same time, Zhang Renfeng remained expressionless, but his steps never faltered as he stared intently at Wilson, walking towards him.

"Boom!"

"Boom!"

"Boom!"

Each step made this sound.

His steps were heavy, as if beneath his yellow skin lay not flesh and blood, but a moving steel statue.

If you remove all the messy factors, this scene is actually quite frightening.

"Guards? Guards—!!" Wilson was so frightened that sweat beaded on his forehead, and he couldn't help but shout.

But things didn't go as he expected. Zhang Renfeng simply moved an empty chair and dragged its legs along the floor, making a creaking sound. He dragged it to the other end of the long table, where he was facing Wilson.

He then stood to the side of the chair, saying nothing, but scanning everyone present with his eyes.

……

“No need to rush to call for guards.” Sophia strolled in slowly. With Zhang Renfeng backing her up, her entrance seemed natural. “For now, we’re just talking.”

"Talk?" Wilson wiped the sweat from his brow and gritted his teeth. "Damn it...isn't this place chaotic enough already? And who are you?!"

“Sophia Ulysses.” Sophia was startled by his bulging eyes and angry expression, but she took a deep breath and answered in a calm voice, “I am the daughter of Istavo White Ulysses.”

……

"Ulysses?"

"I think I've heard of this person before..."

"Isn't he the captain? The one who used to be in charge of the southern sea trade..."

The hushed discussions among the crowd caused several veins to bulge on Wilson's forehead.

"Haven't you read the newspapers?" he said viciously. "The captain is long dead! Even if you really are his daughter, so what? Do you expect me to give face to a dead man?"

"..." Zhang Renfeng's pupils dilated to the point of being somewhat out of focus in an instant.

“I know my father has indeed passed away, but my mother, Dia Wagret, is still alive. And, as far as I know, you should be Hashk Wagret’s son, right?” Sofia’s tone was very firm. “According to the rules of kinship, I should be your elder, and I am speaking to you as your elder now!”

"You keep calling your half-brother a bastard, which shows how much you value the purity of bloodlines."

Wilson's expression was as if he had eaten a lump of something, full of resentment, yet he couldn't say anything.

Sofia is much younger than him in terms of age, but there's no way around it; that's how kinship is defined. If you count on your fingers, she is indeed his elder.

"Why aren't you saying anything?" Sophia, the fifteen-year-old girl, raised an eyebrow and asked coldly, "Could it be that I'm a bastard too?"

Chapter 742: It's 1879 now, where are you going to find such a person?

"What?" Lydia exclaimed in shock, jumping up from her seat as if she had a spring in her seat. "You really said you wanted to 'place these workers'?"

“I really did say it…” Sophia lost the courage she had shown when she met Wales’s gaze; she wilted in front of her sister.

"Did you really say it 'personally' that you would 'find a way to resettle these workers'? Without using any hints, metaphors, or other methods?"

Sofia lowered her head even further, "I really said it myself..."

"Why did you do this? I just asked you to check on Sam, and you... how could you just..."

Halfway through her sentence, Lydia sighed, rubbing her forehead, feeling utterly exhausted and unwilling to continue. Her gaze casually swept over Zhang Renfeng—knowing her sister as she did, Sophia, though kind-hearted, wouldn't usually use her family's name to intimidate people. This whole thing had happened too fast, too unbelievably.

They went up together, so it's hard to say whose idea it was.

It seems that Mr. Zhang has a much stronger influence on his sister's actions than expected.

What is it about this man that makes him so charming?

“I’m sorry, Ms. Lydia.” Sam was crestfallen, looking completely defeated. He didn’t even have the energy to express surprise at the sisterly relationship between the two women. “It’s all my fault. I took it upon myself to confront them, and as a result… I’ve caused you… so much trouble…”

Lydia sighed. "In principle, I won't comment on your individual family matters. As long as it doesn't affect your work, how you and your... 'brothers' get along is your own business."

"Sister, I don't think this is right!" Sophia took a deep breath, as if gathering all her courage, and looked into her sister's sharp, slanted eyes. "That's Sam's mother, his mother!"

She emphasized the word "mother" again, as if it possessed some kind of magic; the mention of it slightly melted the ice in Lydia's eyes.

Everyone is brought into this world by their mother; this is probably one of the few things that people of different statuses and identities can empathize with.

“We just came from the shantytown. His mother was seriously ill and bedridden, and hadn’t eaten for days. She was just a thin skin covering her skull. There was a lack of food, a lack of medicine, and not even a sip of clean water. Meanwhile, in the shantytown, there were more than 3800 workers enduring similar treatment… At the same time, those city officials were eating lobster and drinking wine!”

"What do you expect Sam to do? Anyone with a normal heart wouldn't be able to stand this!"

well said.

Zhang Renfeng secretly gave the girl a thumbs up.

But when he saw Lydia sigh deeply, her expression one of helplessness and uncertainty, he felt a pang of pity, as if he were seeing a female version of his senior brother.

"That's not how things are done."

After a long silence, Lydia shook her head and said, "When something like this happens, the allocation and distribution of resources are very difficult problems."

“The federal government, state governments, and local governments are three almost completely independent organizations. With the torrential rain right now, it will take a long time just to get the message from here to the higher levels. Once the other side receives the message and starts discussing it, that will take even longer.”

"Even if the government of the First State, which is the closest, receives the news and immediately makes a decision to allocate scarce resources and manpower, it will involve something else."

"Command authority".

"Manpower, supplies, relief funds—how will they be distributed after they arrive? Whose orders should be followed? Clearly, a mayor like Wilson is unwilling to share his power with others. He wants to have control over everything in the city; he cannot tolerate any external forces interfering in his territory. At least, that's my understanding of him based on my interactions with him these past few days."