20demayo Chapter 18 My rule is 1%
Chapter 18 My rule is 1%
As Finn O'Connor stepped out of the warehouse, the evening sunlight felt somewhat blinding to him for the first time.
He glanced back at the tightly closed door, as if a completely different world lay hidden inside.
Land and respect.
These two words raced through his mind, overshadowing the shock of Scarface's death and the unfathomable fear of that Easterner.
Instead of going home, he went straight to the deepest part of the dock, to the shantytown that even the sheriff was unwilling to set foot in.
The alleys here are narrower, and the sour smell in the air is stronger.
Finn stopped in front of a dilapidated wooden house.
From inside came a woman's suppressed cough and a child's weak cries.
He pushed open the wooden door, whose hinges were almost falling off.
Inside the house, a tall man named Seamus was carefully feeding his daughter the last piece of blackened, hard bread he was soaking in water.
Finn glanced at Seamus, the once burly man who could carry three bags of cargo by himself at the docks, now so thin he was just a skeleton, with sunken eyes and hands covered in chilblains.
When Seamus saw Finn, a hint of wariness flashed in his bloodshot eyes.
"Boss Finn, I don't have the money to pay my 'membership dues'."
"I'm not here to collect money." Finn walked in, squatted down, looked at the girl who was so thin she was just skin and bones, took out two shillings from his pocket and handed them over, then touched the girl's forehead.
It's very hot; the fever is very high.
"I'd like to offer you a job, Seamus."
"There's no work left at the docks," Seamus said, his voice hoarse and desperate.
“It’s not dockwork,” Finn said in a low voice. “It’s an oriental job. He doesn’t charge you money, but he provides meals. You, your wife, and your daughter will receive plenty of bread and salted fish every day.”
Seamus suddenly raised his head, pondering those words, and for the first time, a glimmer of light appeared in his cloudy eyes.
"There are empty rooms in the warehouse area. You can clean them up and move in. You won't have to sleep smelling the rotten fish and shrimp from the dock anymore."
Seamus's Adam's apple bobbed up and down, and his breathing became rapid.
"That person said that those who follow him in the future will have their own land in this area and can live like human beings."
"And the price?"
"The price...the price is your life, which may no longer be your own."
After Finn finished speaking, he turned and left.
"I'm just passing on a message: it's up to you whether you go or not. Tomorrow morning, go to that old warehouse at the end of South Street in the North District. No exceptions."
Finn didn't turn around, but he heard the man's heavy, suppressed breathing and the woman's intermittent sobs coming from inside as the broken door behind him closed.
……
The next morning, as the first rays of gray dawn shone into the warehouse, Finn brought five men with him.
Seamus stood at the front. He had changed into slightly cleaner clothes, shaved his beard, and looked more energetic, but the ruthlessness that life had sculpted into his bones was still there.
Besides Seamus, there's Declan, who lost his job fighting in a pub; Patrick, the blacksmith who's being chased by loan sharks; and the two taciturn but best-dressed brothers, Connor and Liam.
Each of them, like Seamus, was tall and strong, with a fierce look in their eyes, a look born from the relentless pressure of life.
When they entered the warehouse and saw the stacks of black bread piled high like buckets in the corner and the barrels of salty, fishy-smelling pickled fish, the five men swallowed involuntarily.
They stared intently at the food, their breathing becoming heavier.
Their gaze passed over the food and landed on the Asian man.
At this moment, Li Wei was sitting on a small stool, slowly and deliberately sharpening a dagger with a piece of sand.
He didn't get up, or even look up, but just repeated the same actions, keeping the warehouse silent for a full half hour.
When he sensed that everyone was getting impatient, Li Wei turned around and nodded to Fiona, who was standing beside him.
Fiona stepped forward, picked up a black bread and a dried salted fish, and handed them to Seamus, who was closest to her.
Seamus took it with trembling hands. He didn't eat it himself, but carefully wrapped it in oil paper and put it in his pocket.
This is to be taken back to my family.
The same thing happened to the next few people.
These actions brought a satisfied smile to Li Wei's lips; clearly, Finn had handled this matter with great care and attention.
That's exactly the kind of person he wants.
"From today onwards, your family members can also live here." Li Wei pointed to several empty rooms next to the warehouse.
"Your family members can come to Fiona every day to collect their full amount of food."
Fiona understood immediately and stepped aside, behind her was a bucket of dried salted fish with the lid already open, the meaning of which was self-evident.
Seamus was the first to walk over, picked up a black bread, and took a big bite.
He chewed forcefully, as if he weren't eating, but rather venting his dissatisfaction with this absurd situation.
The others followed suit.
They ate quickly, wolfing down their food, but there was no other sound in the warehouse except for the chewing.
They were terrified that their meals would be stopped at any moment, so they ate as much as they could, hoping that they could go without food for at least three to five days and give their share to their families.
After they had eaten and drunk their fill, the five of them stood in a row, looking at Li Wei and waiting for him to speak.
"From this day forward, you must forget whether you are dockworkers, blacksmiths, or farmers."
"To me, you have only one identity: my private soldiers, Li Wei's men."
"Here, there is only one rule: my word is everything. If you understand, you must obey; if you don't understand, you must obey."
"Anyone who can't do this can leave now with three days' worth of food. I guarantee no one will bother you."
Li Wei's words made everyone take turns looking at the Eastern man in front of them, who was not particularly burly and even somewhat frail.
They couldn't understand why Finn, a prominent figure at the North Wharf, would address this person as "sir".
But their inability to understand doesn't prevent them from realizing that they have no other choice.
Seamus, in particular, has a wife who hasn't eaten for two days and their youngest child has a fever.
In the end, the five people stood ramrod straight, and no one moved.
Their lives were already worthless; a full meal and the safety of their families were enough for them to gamble with their lives.
The training began the moment they nodded.
Li Wei led them to the open space outside the warehouse.
There were no weapons, no equipment.
The first training session in the morning was drills.
"Attention! Right dress! Eyes forward!"
The drills used were the most common and tedious formation exercises that Li Wei had practiced under the red flag in his previous life.
These basic movements, which are common in regular armies, are harder for these workers, who are used to being free and undisciplined, than carrying a 100-pound sack.
The group moved erratically, their footsteps sounding chaotic and disorderly.
"What are you doing, Connor! Is there moss growing on your feet?"
Finn acted as the instructor, yelling in a gruff voice, even more demanding than the strictest overseer on the docks.
Connor's face turned bright red from the scolding, and his movements became even more stiff.
Li Wei didn't say anything; he simply walked over and picked up four long wooden sticks.
He did not use a stick to hit people.
Simply have five people stand side by side, place a wooden stick across their chests, and ask them to use the same amount of force to push against the stick as they move forward and backward together.
If even one person uses too much force or retreats too quickly, the stick will tilt and the entire formation will break apart.
Once, twice, ten times.
Sweat soaked through their tattered clothes, and their arms and chests ached from being rubbed raw by the wooden sticks.
At first, some people complained, but soon the complaints stopped.
They discovered that only when five people truly breathe and exert force as one can this seemingly simple action be accomplished.
Finn watched from the side, his brow furrowed.
He couldn't understand it at all.
This isn't training thugs; it's more like domesticating livestock.
During a break in training, Patrick the blacksmith finally couldn't hold back any longer and, panting heavily, asked the same question that Finn had wanted to ask.
"Sir...we're going to fight the 'Bloody Hand Gang,' what's the point of training like this?"