bullyxtreme Chapter 20 Bread and Scrap Metal
Chapter 20 Bread and Scrap Metal
Three days later, in the early morning, dust filled the open space outside the warehouse.
"Bang!"
With a dull thud, Declan was slammed hard into the chest by Seamus's shoulder, staggering back two steps, but he did not fall.
Almost simultaneously, Connor and the Liam brothers, flanking him from the left and right, used two thick wooden sticks crossed to tightly grip Declan's neck and waist.
Declan struggled, his face turning red, but he couldn't move.
"stop."
Li Wei's voice wasn't loud, but it instantly froze everyone on the field.
Seamus released Declan, and the three of them returned to their original positions, standing in a row, their chests heaving violently, sweat streaming down their faces, leaving small dark marks on the ground.
Their breathing was heavy, but their ranks were orderly, and the casualness they had shown when they first met was gone.
"Declan, you lost because of hesitation." Levi walked up to him. "When the opponent charged, your first reaction was to block, not to deflect the force and turn to the side. You gave Seamus every opportunity to charge head-on."
He then turned to Seamus.
"Your initial impact was powerful, but lacked follow-through. If Connor and the others had been a step slower, Declan would have had a chance to counterattack. Remember, you are a team; your actions are meant to create opportunities for your teammates, not to show off your own strength."
No one objected; they simply nodded silently.
The training over the past few days has completely worn down their individual heroism as street thugs.
They learned how fragile an individual's bravery is in a real fight, and how powerful the combined pressure of five people can be.
At night, under the lights of the warehouse, a different scene unfolds.
Blacksmith Patrick, his wrist stiff, gripped a charcoal pencil as he carefully wrote his name stroke by stroke on a smooth stone slab.
Patrick.
He wrote slowly and forcefully, as if he were not writing words, but forging a red-hot iron blank with a hammer.
After finishing writing, he looked up. His rough, large hands were covered in black charcoal ash, but his face showed an almost sacred sense of satisfaction.
Li Wei observed all of this without saying a word, yet he was quite satisfied with this state of yearning for the future.
He waited until everyone had finished their literacy and arithmetic practice for the evening before gathering them in the center of the warehouse.
"Very good, you're acting like soldiers now."
"But soldiers without weapons are like lambs to the slaughter."
Li Wei's words immediately made the atmosphere heavy.
Finn O'Connor, standing to the side, interjected, "Sir, you can buy guns on the black market, but even the worst smoothbore gun costs several pounds. Gunpowder and lead bullets are monopolized by smugglers, and the prices are outrageously high."
"We won't buy it," Li Wei replied crisply. "We'll make it ourselves."
Make it yourself?
Everyone, including Finn, was stunned.
In their minds, guns and gunpowder were things that only armies and specialized workshops could possess.
"Patrick is a blacksmith; he understands metal. As for me, I understand gunpowder."
"We don't have sophisticated equipment, but we can build the most basic and effective things."
He turned to Fiona, who immediately handed him a money pouch.
"Boyle will come in handy."
No sooner had he finished speaking than there was a knock on the warehouse door, and the person who came in was Boyle.
Boyle rubbed his hands together, a fawning smile plastered on his face, but the smile was more unsightly than a grimace.
Looking at Li Wei in front of him, he felt like a mouse being watched by a snake.
"Mr. Li, what...what can I do for you?"
Li Wei ignored his attempts to curry favor and simply handed him a note.
"This is the list. Buy everything on this list within three days and deliver it to the warehouse on South Street in the North District."
Boyle took the note, looked down, and his pupils suddenly contracted.
Besides the large quantities of flour he was familiar with, the list also included two things he had never encountered before: sulfur and saltpeter.
Moreover, the demand is enormous.
"Master...Master, what...what are these things for? There are so many of them, the sheriff will question us!" Boyle's voice trembled.
"To prevent rodents, and to treat the wood for rot." Li Wei's voice was completely flat.
"You just need to tell the supplier that your new customer has rented several large warehouses in the dock area to stockpile grain, but the problem is that they are plagued by rats and dampness. As for the reasons, you can make them up yourself, and make them sound plausible."
Boyle broke out in a cold sweat.
Although he didn't understand the specific uses of these things, he knew that for an Easterner to need so much sulfur and saltpeter, it couldn't possibly be just for the simple purpose of keeping rats away.
He wanted to refuse, but when he met Li Wei's calm gaze, he swallowed all his words.
That signed confession was like a guillotine hanging over his head.
"The money is here," Levi said, glancing at Fiona beside him. She immediately handed the money pouch to Boyle.
"Ten percent of the remaining money will be your commission, and the rest will be used to buy grain and dark bread."
"What if it's not handled well..."
Li Wei didn't finish his sentence, but Boyle was already so frightened that his legs went weak.
"Understood! Understood! I'll definitely get it done!" He scrambled to pick up the money bag as if it were a hot potato.
After seeing Boyle off, Levi returned to the warehouse.
Finn and Seamus and their four companions had been waiting there for quite some time.
"Your task is simpler," Li Wei said, looking at them.
"From today onwards, I want you to collect all the scrap metal you can find. Rotten iron pots, discarded horseshoes, rusty nails, lead sheets taken from old houses... I want it all, as long as it's metal."
"Finn, you're in charge of mobilizing all the Irish folks in the North. Tell them that a pound of scrap metal can be exchanged for half a pound of dark bread from me."
Finn's one eye lit up.
This offer is too generous.
For those impoverished Irish families, this meant exchanging garbage for life-saving food.
"Seamus, take your men to those abandoned construction sites and junkyards in the city, and take as much as you can. Be careful and avoid the sheriff."
"Patrick, you're temporarily detached from the group and keep an eye on Boyle. If he doesn't behave, you know what to do."
"Yes, sir!" the five men answered in unison, their voices filled with excitement.
Just then, the warehouse door was pushed open. Kieran strode in, his expression grave.
"Mr. Li, 'Butcher' Jack has made a move. He hasn't sent anyone to the North District, but he's plastered the South District docks with notices."
"He offered a fifty-pound bounty for the head of the man who killed his men in 'Stinky Fish Lane.' He also declared that from now on, any smuggled tea or spirits in the South District must go through his 'Bloody Hands Gang.' Otherwise, the customs duties would be paid in blood."
The atmosphere in the warehouse instantly plummeted to freezing point.
This is an open declaration of war.
"Butcher" Jack is using this method to declare his dominance over the entire Boston underworld, while also forcing the killer to reveal himself.
Li Wei's expression remained unchanged after hearing this.
He simply turned around, looked at the word "home" on the blackboard, and then circled it.
"Gentlemen, it's time to protect our home."
"Finn, tell your men to put up notices next to 'The Butcher's' bounty."
The notice read: "Refreshing tea soup, to be delivered free of charge to the South Wharf in three days."