America 1881: They Call Me Legend

The white hooligans took the lead.

A hooligan rushed to the guy in one step and punched him.

The guy didn't move, his left arm blocked the gangster's fist, and he hit the gangster's face with a right swing.

The punch was fast and accurate.

The hooligan was beaten and wobbled.

The guy followed up and kicked the gangster in the stomach.

With just one kick, the hooligan was rolling all over the ground clutching his stomach.

But at this time other hooligans also rushed up.

The buddy caught a glimpse of the enemy coming from the corner of his eye, raised his foot and kicked right, and kicked the nearest hooligan back four or five steps.

However, the space in the store is too small to move around.

After avoiding a hooligan's close hug, the buddy shouted, picked up the stool beside him and smashed it on the head of a hooligan in front of him.

The hooligan was hit dizzily and lay on the ground covering his head.

The door opened in front of the man.

He took three steps in parallel, rushed out the door, and came to the street.

The white hooligans followed suit.

"Let's go together!" I don't know which one of them shouted.

The hooligans rushed forward, and they were about to get close to the guy.

The clerk rushed to the store across the street and yanked down the stick that held up the shed by the door.

He turned around and shot towards the gangster who was rushing to the front.

The tip of the stick hit the gangster's shoulder socket.

The hooligan felt that his shoulder joints fell apart for a moment, and there was severe pain, and he could no longer lift his arms.

The stick retracted, and then turned sideways and swept towards the calf of another hooligan.

"Oh!"

The sound of a stick hitting a calf bone.

The hooligan who was swept couldn't stand for a moment, hugged his calf and howled on the ground.

The buddy used this wooden stick to make the tiger look like a tiger, quite neatly.

The stick technique he used was obviously born out of the battlefield marksmanship, it wasn't fancy, but it was very practical.

Those hooligans couldn't do anything to him, but suffered so much under this stick.

All of a sudden, the offensive and defensive situation on the street was different, and the guys rushed out wielding sticks, beating the white hooligans to run away with their heads in their arms.

There are more and more people watching around, and some people can't help shouting "Okay"!
"Beat them!"

"Embrace them!"

The cheers and cheers came and went one after another, and they became one piece!
However, at this moment, a white hooligan who was knocked to the ground struggled to sit up.

He quietly pulled out a revolver from under his clothes.

The gangster originally thought that if several people hit one, he could beat the opponent's face all over, and then kicked in a circle around the middle, so he didn't think about using a gun when he came up.

Unexpectedly, this guy was extremely brave, outnumbered and outnumbered, not only did he not have the slightest timidity, but he beat them with a wooden stick so that they were full of teeth.

Hooligans don't pay attention to the bottom line.

The only thought in his mind right now was to kill this guy.

"Bastard, come and taste the bullet!" The hooligan raised his gun.

He was about to pull the trigger.

At this moment, a porcelain spoon flew out from nowhere and hit the hooligan on the head.

The hooligan fell straight forward as if hit by a hammer.

The pistol fell from his hand and slid far off the ground.

The guy who was in the middle of the fierce battle suddenly turned his head and saw the pistol on the ground, and his back broke out in a cold sweat.

At this time, a gangster next to him was rushing towards the gun.

"What a thief! How dare you plot against me!" The man shouted loudly.

He stepped over in two steps, and the wooden stick in his hand went from top to bottom, hitting the back of the head of the hooligan who lowered his head to pick up the gun.

The force of this stick was heavy, and it directly knocked the hooligan down to the ground.

The guy's blood was surging, but he still felt that it was not enough, so he swept the stick again.

The stick was firmly drawn to the gangster's face, and the whole person was knocked over, red, white, and yellow were scattered all over the ground, and he could not survive.

When the other hooligans saw that their own people were beaten to death with a few sticks, they were frightened and scared to death.They fled in all directions, completely ignoring those on the ground who were still alive or dead.

And the crowd of onlookers became silent.

It is not a trivial matter that foreigners were beaten to death in the street in Chinatown.

The owner of the barbecued pork shop ran out of the shop in a panic.

When he saw the corpse on the ground, he beat his chest and stamped his feet to the buddy, with a cry in his voice:

"It's over! It's over! How did you provoke such a thing? Disaster! Disaster!"

If this news gets out, let alone whether his store can continue to open, I am afraid that he himself will be arrested as well!
It is not uncommon for people to die in Chinatown, but they are usually Chinese, and the police in San Francisco don't even care about them.

But if the foreigner died, it would be different.

The buddy was also stunned.

He was just excited about the fight, and the last blow was a little bit harder, but he never expected that this person would be beaten so carelessly, and he was killed by the blow.

But he set up his stick, and his body stood as tall and straight as the sticks beside him:
"Master, please don't worry, I, Situ Meitang, do things by myself. If I pay for my life by killing someone, I will pay for it with my life. I will never involve my master!"

"You said that if you don't get involved, you don't get involved? Which of the foreign policemen is reasonable? I'm afraid they arrested me with you and tortured me!" The boss wailed and wailed.

"A life is worth a life? When did the lives of these white hooligans become so valuable?"

A voice came from the barbecued pork restaurant.

Chen Jianqiu was wearing a satin blue silk robe, and walked out of the door together with Li Sifu.

He walked up to another white hooligan who was still fainted on the ground, picked up a porcelain spoon handle on the ground, and handed it to the boss:
"Boss, I'm sorry, but I broke a spoon in your store. I'll ask someone to pay you double in return."

The boss just stood there.

When Situ Meitang saw the handle of the spoon, he realized that it was Chen Jianqiu who saved him just now.

He knelt down on one knee, cupped his hands in thanks, and said, "Situ Meitang, thank you Boss Chen for saving my life!"

Chen Jianqiu waved his hands, and began to look Situ Meitang up and down.

Being outnumbered and showing no signs of fear is called courage; not fighting brutally, but using weapons and terrain advantages is called wisdom; daring to take responsibility and shouldering responsibilities is called righteousness.

This guy is not bad.

"How about mixing with me in the future?" Chen Jianqiu asked suddenly, "With your skills, it's not too much to be a red stick in the main hall."

Situ Meitang was stunned again, he paused to consider his words:

"The younger generation is still inexperienced and young, so I'm afraid they won't be able to convince the public. Besides..."

He glanced at the white man's body and sighed:
"Besides, the junior is afraid that he will have to face a lawsuit, and his life will be at risk."

My life is almost gone, so I don't even think about becoming popular.
Chen Jianqiu laughed:
"Seniority is not a problem, nor is age. As for the lawsuit."

Just as several people were talking, a group of uniformed police officers had broken through the crowd and rushed in.

Chen Jianqiu knew the leader.

It's Sheriff Potter.

The police station in this area is near Chinatown, so Sergeant Porter rushed over with the police as soon as he heard the news.

"Where's the murderer? Huh? Where?"

The sheriff rushed in, and saw the corpse lying on the ground and Situ Meitang standing beside him at a glance.

"Hey, isn't this Sergeant Potter? What happened last time didn't make you get promoted?" Chen Jianqiu said with his hands behind his back, slyly.

Potter's face flushed and turned pale.

After the strike and demonstration, in order to stabilize the mood, the government stated that it would not blame the police.

So Sergeant Porter can still serve as the chief of his precinct.

But now everyone in the government knows that he is a [-]-year-old boy, so few people are willing to talk to him.

He did know Chen Jianqiu, but he didn't know that he was the actual boss of the Border Detective Agency. He only knew that he was a member of the Anti-Strike League and a California railroad tycoon.

Boss Chen was said to have also been beaten during the last strike demonstration.

Potter thought Chen Jianqiu's words were disgusting at his betrayal.

"Um, Boss Chen, actually, what happened last time" Sergeant Porter wanted to explain, but found that it seemed useless to explain himself.

In the United States, sheriffs and police officers have always been one of the most violent professions.

In the past, he would never be so cowardly, but now
Chen Jianqiu waved his hand, indicating that there is no need to talk.

He pointed to the dead bodies on the ground and several immobile white hooligans:
"These people must have a criminal record with you, right? I watched from the side the whole time, and these people were the first to provoke."

He pointed to Situ Meitang again:
"As for this young man, it's just a legitimate defense."

Sergeant Porter is like a deflated ball, speaking with no confidence:
"Boss Chen, I can trust your reputation, but after all, if someone dies, the process still has to go down. The court has the final say on this matter, so don't embarrass me too much."

"Okay." Chen Jianqiu nodded, "I respect your profession."

He walked to Situ Meitang's side, and patted him on the shoulder lightly: "It's okay, let's go with him."

Sheriff Potter breathed a sigh of relief.

He was really afraid that Chen Jianqiu would take revenge on him for his last strike and parade, and deliberately make things difficult for him.

But Chen Jianqiu turned around, suddenly changed the subject, and fixed his eyes on Potter:

"I will take a lawyer to go through the bail process soon, but before that, if I find some scars or bruises on this guy that shouldn't appear."

"So, I'm sorry. Sergeant Potter, I promise you can't even do the most basic policeman."