novelSusiti Chapter 10: Level Up to 5 with John Sutter
Chapter 10: Level Up to 5 with John Sutter
After taking a couple of bites, he concluded, "In short, the prerequisite technology tree isn't finished yet; it requires money and time."
"Yes."
Su Song slowly said, "However, my lord, under the current conditions, we can also increase the efficiency of mining and smelting by several times through some improvement methods."
He once showed interest: "For example?"
"Transform the simple single-layer wooden chute into a multi-stage series of compound chutes, and then lay oil-soaked felt or rough linen at the bottom of the chute."
At the same time, zinc powder precipitation was introduced as a supplement to amalgamation to process extremely fine gold powder that is not easily captured by mercury…”
Su Song briefly mentioned a few points, then changed the subject to report on the progress of the weapons company: "My lord, the location of the company in Chinatown has been finalized."
It's an old warehouse in a relatively secluded location. It only needs some brick and stone reinforcement in the area where gunpowder is stored for research and development, and it will be ready in seven days.
"We've searched everywhere for the milling machines and other machine tools we need. The UK distributor in Sacramento has them in stock, and Hosea has already gone to talk to them."
Upon hearing this, he immediately contacted Hosea, who was far away in Sacramento, through the hive's consciousness: "Hosea, how are things going on your end?"
"My Lord, it's a complete mess."
Hosea's voice carried a rare hint of annoyance: "That Englishman is sticking to his price, asking for six thousand dollars for just a few machine tools. Damn it, I guarantee these machines only cost two thousand dollars to manufacture in Liverpool; he's overcharging several times over. If he doesn't budge, I'm prepared to just rob them!"
He once said unhappily, "What do you mean by 'outright robbery'? Good heavens, are we the kind of barbarians who disregard business ethics and break market rules? Whatever price he asks for, you pay him that much!"
Hosea exclaimed in surprise, "Huh?"
Knowing that his subordinates hadn't quite grasped the situation, Zeng sighed and began to earnestly instruct them: "Don't be so careless in your work. We're running a legitimate company, and the source of our machinery and equipment must be clear, legal, and verifiable."
"After you buy it, just take a few men and follow him home, stage a robbery like bandits, and get the money back, right?"
Hosea on the other end of the consciousness was silent for two seconds: "Understood, my lord."
After ending the call with Hosea, he scraped the last bit of potato porridge mixed with minced meat from his bowl, let out a satisfied burp, and then casually brought up the system interface.
【Name: Life for Life System】
[Host: Formerly]
[Level: 5]
[Effect: Automatically generates sixteen assassins daily, whose physical strength is 1.5 times that of a normal adult Homo sapiens male.]
Current number of assassins: 67
Number of summonable assassins: 16
[Upgrade Requirements: Kill 32 humans (27/32)]
[Currently Unlocked Sub-items]:
[Hive Consciousness]: ...
[The deceased feared death]: ...
[Subspace Teleportation]: ...
【Thirst for Knowledge】: You can choose to summon a zombie with this trait. A zombie with this trait will have super learning and research capabilities, but the cost is that it will occupy two summoning slots.
【Exquisite Craftsmanship】: You can choose to summon a suicide soldier with this trait. Suicide soldiers with this trait will have super practical and hands-on abilities, but the cost is that they will occupy two summoning slots.
Similar to the thirst for knowledge, if the scientist was the one who summoned the assassins before, then the engineer should be the one summoned by this skill.
He used the new skill without hesitation. Options popped up on the screen.
Please select your area of study: Civil Engineering, Power Engineering, Communications, or Military Engineering.
really.
As before, one engineer from each of the four areas was selected and directly assigned to Su Song in San Francisco to assist him.
Driven by a wicked sense of humor, he gave the four newly arrived engineer assassins rather symbolic names: Lu Ban, Zhan Tianyou, Yan Su, and Gan Jiang.
After doing all that, I began to organize the forces that were currently scattered in various places.
In San Francisco, there were eight scientists and engineers, along with Dutch and four of his henchmen.
Sacramento, Hosea, and four assassins.
Wolf Town, Lucy.
The remaining assassins are all at the gold mine.
After some deliberation, I began allocating personnel using the Hive Consciousness skill.
"Yuan Guang, you will lead fifteen men and manage these two gold mines from now on. I will pass on to you the improvement methods that Su Song told me before; just follow them."
"Ezekiel, you and the rest of you have already established a foothold in Wolf Town, so stay here. Lucy will be in charge of purchasing, and you will be responsible for delivering food to the gold mine and gathering intelligence."
"Arthur, take half of the existing personnel and send them to counties and towns throughout California. Their mission is to go undercover and gather any valuable intelligence. As for the rest..."
Before he could finish speaking, Dutch's voice suddenly rang out.
"My lord, I have a new plan that you will like."
"Another new idea?" His thoughts were pulled back. "Tell me about it."
In a quiet room in San Francisco, Dutch picked up a newly delivered copy of the California Chronicle and pointed to the eye-catching headline on the front page: "Take a look at this news."
With Dutch's eyes, I was able to see the contents clearly.
The huge black headline read: "California Supreme Court rules in favor of Mr. John Sutter, awarding him ownership of 33 square miles of land!"
The article below the title reads:
Just yesterday, California Supreme Court Judge Thompson slammed the gavel, declaring that John Augustus Sutter had an indisputable right to his 33 square miles (approximately 140,000 acres) of land.
From Sacramento to San Francisco Bay, the towns, mines, and farms along the way were all part of this old man's wealth. This lord of "New Helvetia," who had gone bankrupt because of gold, was legally re-crowned as the richest man in the land.
However, an eerie silence filled the victorious scene.
None of the 17221 defendants targeted in the verdict appeared in court, and Mr. Sutter and his lawyer, who had traveled from Pennsylvania, showed no joy.
In an interview, the lawyer stated frankly, "We won the legal battle, but now we have to face the whole of California."
In Sacramento, a city that expanded from Sutterburg, the verdict sparked street rallies.
A farmer wielding a shovel shouted to the crowd, "My land comes from my sweat and the gun in my hand! Let the King of Switzerland (referring to Sartre) try to take it back!"
The local sheriff expressed his concern, saying he had increased manpower to prevent any attempt to forcibly seize land based on the judgment.
Meanwhile, rumors circulated that the settlers who had taken over the land had begun raising funds to take the case to the U.S. Supreme Court in Washington, in an attempt to indefinitely prolong the war.
As Judge Thompson stated at the end of his judgment: "The Court's duty is to interpret the law, and to make this judgment take root in this land of cabins and fences requires extraordinary wisdom and strength that goes beyond the scope of the law."
After quickly reading the news, he remained silent for a moment before asking, "Dutch, your new plan doesn't mean we're going to help that John Sutter reclaim all the land, does it?"
Although the news only listed 17221 defendants, that doesn't mean there are only that many defendants; it simply means that only that many are known by name at present.
If he remembers correctly, hundreds of thousands of people flocked to the West Coast after John Sutter's employees discovered gold. These people seized John Sutter's land, houses, tools, and livestock, ultimately leading to his bankruptcy.
In other words, to help is to make enemies of everyone on this land.
"My lord, why not?"
Dutch chuckled softly. "John Sutter holds the claim to this land, but he can't take it back. Because everyone on this land—from the residents to the police to the military—is a beneficiary of the existing system."
"He needs an absolutely loyal, unfettered, and sufficiently powerful armed force to enforce the verdict. And we happen to possess that kind of force."
He paused, then continued, "And my lord, we don't need to start with something as tough as Sacramento or San Francisco, do we?"
We'll start with the peripheral towns, farms, and mines, like a pack of wolves, slowly nibbling away at their territory. We'll replace the locals with our own people and establish our own strongholds.
Until they merge into one vast expanse of countryside, and the momentum is established, those cities will naturally become the ripe fruit.
In the vast and sparsely populated western frontier, this idea is indeed feasible.
He had a fleeting thought, but doubts remained: "The idea is good, but Dutch, are you sure that John Sutter would be willing to cooperate with us?"
"Building trust is simple; shared interests and hatred form its strongest foundation."
Dutch put away the newspaper, stood up from the sofa, and said confidently, "My lord, leave this matter to me."
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.
A hotel near the docks in San Francisco.
John Sutter, who had just arrived from the California Supreme Court in San Jose, looked exhausted. At 52 years old, the eight-hour carriage ride had taken a heavy toll on his energy.
He carried his luggage, head down, and quickly got off the carriage, heading towards the inn.
Two muscular blond-haired, blue-eyed men leaned against the hotel's exterior wall, sizing up everyone who passed by before finally fixing their gaze on John Sutter.
The two men exchanged a glance, like two moving iron towers, one on the left and one on the right, perfectly blocking Sartre's path.
"Mr. John Augustus Sartre, please come with us."
John Sutter's expression changed drastically, and he took two steps back: "What do you want? There are sheriffs around here!"
"Mr. Sartre, I advise you to keep quiet," the burly man on the left said coldly.
"Or, you could try yelling for help now?" the burly man on the right sneered. "But when people hear the name John Sutter, do you think more people will rush to help, or will they take the opportunity to do something else?"
These words were like a bucket of ice water, extinguishing John Sartre's last shred of resistance.
He knew all too well that in this land, his name meant trouble, threats, and potential financial loss to many.
Everyone in the West wanted him dead, without exception.
John Sartre remained silent as the two men pulled him into a waiting four-wheeled carriage with its curtains drawn.
Inside the carriage sat a middle-aged man wearing a black vest and striped shirt. Seeing John Sartre get on, he smiled and said, "Good afternoon, Mr. Sartre, please have a seat."
John Sartre took a deep breath, forcing himself to remain calm: "How did you find me?"
"It's very simple."
The middle-aged man, or rather Dutch, smiled slightly and said, "After you finish the lawsuit and there's no hope of getting your property back, you'll definitely be going back to Pennsylvania."
"The railway in the west has not yet been built, and the overland journey across the continent is too arduous and dangerous for your age and condition, so the only option left is the sea route."
I checked the departure times of ships going to the East Coast from San Francisco Port these days, and found that there's only one tomorrow. If I miss it, I'll have to wait another two weeks.
"Now that we know the time and place, all that's left is to have people keep an eye out for white gentlemen in the dock area and near the major hotels who fit the description of 'elderly, alone, carrying luggage, and looking wary.' That'll naturally lead us to you."
John Sartre gave a bitter laugh, his voice hoarse: "They really went to great lengths to deal with an old man like me who has nothing."
"If I had known this would happen, I should have listened to my lawyer and stayed in Pennsylvania to wait for news, even if that news was just a worthless piece of paper."
"No, no, no, Mr. Sartre, I'm not here to kill you." Dutch shook his head and leaned forward. "On the contrary, I'm here to help you."
The carriage beneath them began to move slowly. Dutch looked at Sartre, whose face was full of doubt, took out a cigar, and lit it unhurriedly.
"Mr. Sartre, do you hate it?"
"You once had an enviable family, and a prosperous colony, New Helvetia, which you built from the wilderness. You were the recognized lord of this land, possessing wealth and prestige that ordinary people could not imagine."
"But seven years ago, everything changed."
"Those locust-like mobs swarmed into your land, not only plundering the gold underground, but also looting your property on the ground, and even taking your family members with them."
Your eldest son was forced to commit suicide by bandits, your second son was killed while trying to protect your home with a gun, and your youngest son drowned in the river.
"Enough! Stop talking!" John Sutter roared.
Dutch continued, "You and your wife narrowly escaped, but your wife also fell ill during the escape and eventually died in a hotel in a foreign land. You could only flee to Pennsylvania like a stray dog, pinning your last hope on those damned laws..."
"I told you to stop talking!"
John Sutter's eyes were bloodshot, his expression ferocious, and his anger was almost bursting out. He growled like a beast, his withered fingers reaching for Dutch's collar.
But Dutch was faster. He easily grabbed Sartre's outstretched wrist, and with a casual twist and press, he pushed the old man back into his seat.