December 28, 1866

New Year's Countdown,

"Woo woo woo~"

The whistle of the paddle steamer informs every passenger on board that it has arrived.

Once again, the port of Houston welcomed a contingent from the Yankee Consortium.

This time, it would be more appropriate to call it a team of dart divisions.

The team was full of lawyers and bodyguards, escorting boxes and boxes of gold, and so they came to Houston.

The head of the task force escorting the gold this time was Charles Francis Adams, a middle-aged man from the Boston consortium.

Charles Francis Adams, then fifty-nine, was still a heroic middle-aged man according to the standards of the United Nations by the United Nations of King Tom I.

In charge of "picking up the dust" for these guests from afar, the 5,000 German veterans led by John Müller.

and dozens of Yankey task force members under house arrest.

Among the dozens of task force members under house arrest, Charles caught a glimpse of his unassuming nephew, Samuel Adams.

Charles, however, acted as if he had not seen his nephew at all, and walked towards John.

"Mr. John Muller, there is the three thousand quintals of gold that your company has requested, and I would like you to count them."

"No, the credibility of the Bostonians is still trustworthy, give, this is what you need."

John pulled out his hand and waved his hand, and several Smith employees walked up with boxes of papers.

Charles also had several of his employees take the documents and bring them to the ship.

As for the details of legal issues, it is never something they need to care about, and every company has a professional legal affairs department.

Three thousand quintals of gold was not a small amount, and the employees of Smith & Co. began to move it.

John and Charles sat at makeshift tables and chairs by the harbor, waiting for the end of the so-called equity sale, which was actually a "hostage buy".

Gold can be moved much faster than patents and contracts can be reconciled.

It can't be helped, after all, gold is just gold, and there are no winding text traps.

After about two hours, the legal documents were finally checked.

A thin man with glasses slowly walked up to Charles and whispered something to him, but Adams just nodded slightly and told him to go back to the ship and wait.

"Mr. John Mueller, I was surprised that your company actually split its own shares."

Adams was a little puzzled, and just heard from the lawyer team that the documents were in addition to the contract signed by Tom's mother, Penny, to transfer the shares.

There is also a document signed by Tom acknowledging his mother's signature, and in a legal sense, Smith is currently owned by dozens of Yankee consortiums.

And these shares, which are at least worth hundreds of millions of dollars, were sold for about 95 million.

"So, when will the general meeting of shareholders be held, the powers of the directors will be specified in detail, and the rules and regulations of the board of directors have been formulated?"

"You should be the first board of directors to have a "democratic" vote, right? ”

Charles, the old fox, has already tacitly acquiesced that Tom Smith was afraid of the Yankee consortium to make such a compromise.

He also began to sneer at John, the black glove of Smith Company.

"Papa~"

John slapped his face twice, and two strong men of Smith walked to the back of John's chair and used their hands and torso to support John, who was leaning back, to prevent John from falling backwards.

John put his hands on the pillow, and his legs crossed arrogantly across the table between John and Charles.

"The Smith Company is for you, but I'm not a member of the Smith Corporation, so it's useless for you to ask me."

"Mr. John Mueller, please don't be kidding, aren't you one of the managers of Smith & Co.?"

"Do you think I'm joking? By the way, I'll let you have a little secret, Mr. Tom Smith recently founded the HERO company. ”

John tried his best to imitate Tom's slutty appearance as much as he could, trying to make an under-pumped expression.

It turned out to be a chilling grimace.

"Also, there isn't a single Smith factory in Texas anymore."

"All of the Smith factories were sold to Hero yesterday for a total of $1."

"Don't say it, Mr. Tom Smith was distressed when he bought those companies."

"In the future, Smith and Hero will be competitors, remember to compete fairly. Hahaha~"

John laughed awkwardly like a robot, and to be honest, the laughter was similar to the shrill sound of a glass chalkboard rubbed against inferior chalk.

Even Charles, who was in his fifties, couldn't hold back his anger and slammed his hands on this makeshift table!

"Are you going to start an all-out war with our Yankee government?!?!"

"Listen to me!"

John didn't answer directly, but raised his right hand and shouted, commanding the five thousand neat Hero Company armed men behind him.

"Raise your gun!"

Five thousand armed men of the Hero Company raised their rifles in the air in unison, pointing straight at the Gulf of Mexico.

"Shoot!"

Five thousand armed men shot at the same time, saying that a thousand people were shooting, but the sound was not as noisy as Charles imagined,

If it weren't for the deafening gunshots that rang out in the sky, Charles's ears could only recognize that it was a person shooting.

"Put away the gun!"

The neat movements of 5,000 people, and even the timing of the rubbing of the clothes when doing the movements were so synchronized, so that Charles, who was more than ten meters away, could hear the neat "swish" sound when the clothes were rubbing.

Cold sweat instantly soaked Charles's entire body, and Charles remembered that there were 5,000 armed men standing near the port, maintaining the security of this transaction.

The 5,000 men stood by the harbor with guns on their shoulders for two hours without making a sound.

In the cold winter of December, there were no complaints, so that Charles ignored these silent armed men.

John slowly sat back down in his normal position, his eyes like a viper on its prey, staring at the angry and panicked Charles across the table.

"Do you think I'm joking?"

"Boom."

Charles swallowed, fear overriding anger.

Charles had also seen the "elite" of the Civil War in Boston, and the elite was nothing more than a group of state police officers or ruffians who joined the army for a hundred dollars.

It was Charles' first glimpse of a real modern army, a group that was supposed to be in Prussia, France, or Great Britain in Europe, and that was the case in Texas.

Charles looked at the takeover agreement in his hand, looked around again, and suddenly remembered that the man across the table, like the Boston consortium, was not a "kind" Yankee banker or a "savage" Dixie slave owner, but a real "estate" mafia.

"Let's go!"

Fear, anger, and reluctance were intertwined in Charles's heart, and for the sake of his own life, Charles could only take the members of the Yankey task force on board and leave.

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