Mr. Wren was very angry about this, and the consequences were very serious. So that morning, right next to the recruitment point, when a group of workers were explaining to others how humane the new contract and new rules of the "Rennes Textile Factory" were, and had a conscience, a group of people from the factory protection team rushed out with big sticks in their hands and pounced on these workers. Naturally, the workers could not be beaten in vain, so they resisted and then ......

Sharp sirens sounded, and countless policemen suddenly emerged from various entrances to the street, as if they had come out of the ground.

"Stop the brawl, immediately squat on the ground, don't move!" The policemen, brandishing batons, shields, handcuffs and revolvers, shouted.

"It's the police, run!" Some workers shouted.

The workers began to flee in all directions, but the police stopped them, and the front-row policemen blocked them with shields and hit them with batons.

"Crouch down now! With your head in your hands, the first warning! ”

"Quick, squat!" A representative of the London Textile Workers' Mutual Aid shouted. He knew that according to British law, the police only need to issue three such warnings in the face of such a group brawl before they can shoot!

"Second warning!" The police shouted.

"Squat, squat, they'll shoot!" More deputies shouted.

Many workers hesitated to squat down. But the thugs of the factory protection team, who had white towels tied to their arms, did not care about this, and continued to beat the workers with big sticks.

"Third warning! Shoot! ”

The command to "shoot" is almost immediately followed by a "third warning", and almost no time is given to others to reflect. A representative of the workers was shouting: "Squat down quickly...... and several bullets hit him. Blood flowed from his body, as well as from his mouth and eyes. The worker representative shook and fell to the ground. But he wasn't dead yet, and he could barely hold himself up halfway with his hands.

A factory guard with a big stick swaggered over and struck him twice on the head and body, and he died.

The workers were forced to crouch on the ground, and the factory guards were at gunpoint with the police, wielding sticks at the workers. If a worker dares to stand up and resist, the police, who have already issued three warnings, will shoot mercilessly...... Blood was spilled all over the ground.

"The blood is shed, the blood of our brothers is shed!" Buck burst into tears. Buck hadn't cried like this since he watched his adoptive father, the previous Fagin boss, hanged himself.

"Buck, don't cry, what's going on with the others?" Fagin asked.

"First the factory guard team beat them, and then the police arrested them and the factory guard team, and they didn't even go in for five minutes, and those people from the factory guard team came out, but our people were locked up - this world is not letting us all live!"

"He won't let us live, so we'll drag them to die together!" The butcher gritted his teeth.

"I've heard that other textile mills are also planning to change their contracts and reduce wages." Oliver spoke.

"We're going to get the word out and we're going to get the textile workers all over London on strike." "Besides, we can't let them be complacent, we have to teach them a lesson!" ”

Early in the morning, Hindley got up from the bed and stretched. By this time his wife had already made her morning and was waiting for him. Hindley's salary is not bad, but the work is also very hard, and he also leaves early and returns late. The money earned each month, after paying the rent, and other so-called middle-class necessary expenses, the rest is actually very limited. But anyway, when I come back every day, I open the soup pot and see a lamb chop inside. That's a good day.

After breakfast, Hindley kissed his wife and children and went out.

It was still early, and the air outside was so muddy that Hindley couldn't help coughing. Hindley walked to the bus stop, where he waited for the carriage.

Although Schindley felt that he was a decent person, it was impossible for a lowly decent man like him to have his own private carriage, and he could only wait for the public carriage at the station—of course, this was already much better than the worker. Do the poor workers know what it's like inside the wagon?

Thinking of this, Hindley felt a little ambitious. He felt that with his own efforts, he could let his son go to a private school, and then he could find a higher-paying career in the future, and even by his grandson's generation, he would have the opportunity to rely on the accumulated money to become his own boss and become a real decent person......

"That's great!" Thinking so, Hindley saw a public carriage approaching in the distance.

Hindley took the briefcase in his arms and looked at the other people waiting at the station. These people were now his opponents, and he had to overcome them and squeeze into this car, or else he would have to wait half an hour for the next public carriage, and he would definitely have to eat at the factory. Even if he is late, he will be deducted from his salary.

Of course, he can also go as a rental carriage, but the rental carriage is much more expensive than the public carriage, so if you can save some money, you can save some money.

The carriage stopped, and everyone rushed up, and Hindley held the briefcase in one hand and grabbed the doorknob with the other, trying to squeeze on. But at this time, a hand came out of nowhere, ripped off his briefcase, and threw it far away.

At this moment, Hindley could only let go of his other hand and hurriedly went to pick up the briefcase. Some of the documents had been spilled, and he had to take a closer look to see if they were missing...... And then...... Then the bus drove away.

"These people, really...... It's so immoral! Hindley cursed in a low voice, looking around to see a passing cab.

It was the wish of the heavens, and there happened to be a rental carriage turning out of that side and coming towards this side.

"Stop, stop!" Hindley waved and shouted at the carriage.

The carriage slowed down, and the coachman shouted at him, "Where?" ”

"To the Wren Textile Mill!" Hindley shouted. He knew that most of the car already had a passenger, and he could take another passenger with him. If it's a drop-by, the coachman will take him with him, and he will earn a lot of money.

The carriage gradually slowed down and stopped in front of him.

"Come on!" The coachman has a strong Scottish accent.

"Okay, okay." Hindley replied as he hurried into the carriage.

He sat down in the carriage, closed the door, and the carriage began to move again, and Hindley had time for the mass of the carriage to be filled with two men sitting across from him. The two men were staring at him with wide eyes.

"Hello, meet ...... here" Hindley was about to say hello when the two men pounced. Hindley opened his mouth to cry for help, but a stinky rag was put in his mouth, and he tried to resist, but both men were stronger than him, and in a few moments they tied him with a rope like a big dumpling.

The carriage kept going, and after running for a while, it stopped. Then the two of them dragged Hindley, who was tied like a big rice dumpling—ah, given the cultural background, it should be said that he was tied like a mummy, from the car and slammed it to the ground. Hindley's fat face smashed directly on the ground, and it hurt from the small pebbles on the ground.

Hindley tried to struggle, but one foot suddenly stepped on his back, and he couldn't breathe. Then a hand grabbed him by the hair and pulled his face up. Hindley saw a crowd of angry workers surrounding him.

Hindley knew that this must be in a slum, that the police would not come at all, that he would fall into the hands of these people, and that no one would come to save him, even if he cut his throat.

"Woo woo woo ......" Cindley's Adam's apple kept stirring, and he wanted to beg for mercy, but his mouth was gagged and he couldn't make a sound.

"Bastard! You are so majestic when you lead people to kill our people! Dog stuff! ”

A worker-like man scolded and kicked Hindley in the face, and half of Hindley's face immediately swollen.

Another worker reached out and ripped the stinky rag from Hindley's mouth.

"Spare your life! Brothers, spare me! I can't help it, it was Mr. Wren who asked me to order someone to shoot! I can't help it...... Brothers, I have parents and a wife and children, and I raise them alone, I dare not disobey Mr. Rennes, brothers, you spare me, I will change my mind in the future......

"Fart! Who is your brother?! One of the workers shouted.

"You helped Wren and killed so many of us, and you have the blood of so many of our brothers on your hands, do you think you can survive if you ask for two sentences?" A worker grabbed Hindley by the chest and lifted him up, "Isn't it majestic when you let the factory guards shoot?" You dog thing, you should have died a long time ago! ”

After saying this, he suddenly smelled a strange smell, he shrugged his nose, and then smiled contemptuously: "Brothers, this dead dog - he peed his pants, hahaha!" ”

"Kill him, kill him, kill him to avenge his brothers!" Everyone around shouted.

Someone brought a big rock.

"You, what are you going to do?" Hindley asked again in horror and panic.

They ignored him and just tied the big stone to him.

"You ...... What are you going to do? Listening to the sound of the Thames River next to him, Hindley understood their plan in his heart, and finally couldn't help shouting, "Help! Help! ”

"Scream, scream, scream, and no one will come to your rescue. You lackey of the capitalists! A worker shoved the stinky rag back into his mouth, then grabbed him by the neck and dragged him towards the river.

"Do you know what will happen to your family when you die?" Another worker maliciously whispered in his ear, "Your wife and son will be kicked out by the landlord because they can't pay the rent." Your son was kicked out of school because he couldn't pay his tuition. Then in order to eat, your wife will go to work as a street girl. At most, two years later, she'll die of a dirty disease......"

Hindley struggled hard, but to no avail. Several people dragged him onto a small boat.

"When your wife dies, your son will be old enough to work as a child laborer in a factory. He'll go to the textile mill in Rennes and work as a child laborer, and then in five years at most, your family will be reunited. ”

Hindley's eyes were wide open, bloodshot eyes almost popping out of their sockets, and he struggled with all his might.

"Okay, don't waste your efforts, it'll be over in a while." A worker grabbed him and threw him away. Hindley fell into the Thames and then bubbled and sank.