xymnovel Chapter 19 Scum, Drunkard, and Penniless
Chapter 19 Scum, Drunkard, and Penniless
Blacksmith Patrick's words drew everyone's attention to Levi, all of whom shared the same question.
Li Wei put down the wooden stick, looked at them, and didn't seem impatient, but his tone was somewhat cold.
"Very well, since this is the first question, I will answer it. Don't do it again!"
"The 'Bloody Hand Gang' in your eyes may be a big force in the Southern District. But in my opinion, they are nothing more than a rabble. They fight because they have a lot of people and a lot of ruthlessness."
"But a mob will always be a mob, meaning they are driven by self-interest and cannot achieve absolute obedience."
"And your greatest advantage and only principle as my future private army is absolute obedience."
"Anyone who questions this order may leave now. As I said before, you can take three days' worth of food, but don't come back."
Right at the warehouse entrance were those tempting loaves of bread and dried salted fish.
Inside the warehouse, there were the cold, ruthless rules of this Easterner.
No one moved.
Patrick lowered his head, ashamed of his impulsive actions.
"Excuse me, sir."
Li Wei nodded, and the training continued.
He began to instill a completely new concept in them.
"From now on, the five of you will form a group."
"Seamus is the team leader."
"You are no longer five separate thugs; you are one entity. Your lives are all tied together."
After saying that, Li Wei began to teach them how to make makeshift shields using simple wooden planks and burlap sacks, and how to form a very basic defensive formation.
He taught them that when their comrades were attacked, they should not rush in recklessly, but rather provide flank cover and support.
These things completely overturned their understanding of fighting.
They spent the entire morning in this monotonous drill and high-intensity teamwork.
Sweat soaked through their worn-out clothes, and their legs felt as heavy as lead.
At noon, Fiona pushed a cart and brought in steaming hot meat soup, which everyone ate while eating black bread from the warehouse.
This was the most satisfying lunch they had ever had in their lives.
Training continued in the afternoon.
However, the content is no longer about queuing and teamwork, but about individual combat.
Li Wei had them take turns attacking each other in pairs, while the remaining person had to observe and find weaknesses, and avoid making the same mistakes in the next round.
"You all remember this. No fists allowed, only your bodies to bump into, throw, and subdue the other person."
"Your goal is not to defeat him, but to render him immobile."
For the next two hours, the warehouse was filled with muffled thuds and heavy breathing.
They quickly understood.
This is no longer an ordinary street brawl; it's a more efficient way to kill. Using minimal force to create maximum pressure, rendering the enemy incapable of resistance in the shortest amount of time.
The second half of the afternoon training session was changed by Li Wei.
Li Wei grouped the five of them together and taught them how to cooperate with each other and how to advance and retreat using the simplest formations.
He forbids any form of solo effort.
"You are not heroes, you are a fist. Seamus is the heart of the fist, and the four of you are the fingers. If any one finger is broken, the fist is useless."
From initial confusion and frustration, they gradually began to experience a completely different kind of power amidst sweat and exhaustion.
That is a collective force.
Li Wei looked at them, took the tea Fiona offered, and muttered to himself:
"Fiona, how much would you say their loyalty is worth?"
Fiona puffed out her impressive figure, but the answer she gave was unexpected by Levi.
"Sir, their loyalty was immeasurable when you were around."
"Fiona, you really are different!"
……
As the sun was about to set, the men were so exhausted that they could barely stand.
But their eyes changed. The confusion and ruthlessness of the daytime were replaced by something mixed with exhaustion and focus.
They thought their day of torment was finally over.
Li Wei clapped his hands, signaling them to follow him back to the warehouse.
Inside the warehouse, Fiona had already lit the oil lamp.
A wooden board blackened with charcoal stands in the center.
Li Wei picked up a piece of white chalk and turned to look at the five exhausted men.
"Physical fitness and combat skills are just the basics."
"The real power is here." He tapped his temple with chalk.
"Starting today, every night I will teach you to read and do arithmetic."
The five people looked at each other, their faces filled with disbelief.
They're here to be thugs, not to study.
"An illiterate soldier will always be cannon fodder. I don't want cannon fodder in my army."
Li Wei didn't give them a chance to question him. He turned around and wrote the first neat Chinese character on the blackboard.
"Home."
He pronounced the word in English, "Home."
Then he looked at the five Irishmen and spoke in a dramatic, rhythmic tone.
"This is the first Eastern vocabulary and English word you will learn to write, and it is also the most important thing I promised you."
Then he handed the charcoal to Seamus.
"You write it."
Seamus froze, his hands, which were only used for moving goods and fighting, now hanging in mid-air.
"I……"
"What I need are officers who can stand on their own. You need to learn to read and do arithmetic. Because in the future you will need to be able to read maps, keep accurate accounts, and manage even more incompetent idiots than you are now."
"An illiterate thug will always be a thug. Only a literate soldier has the chance to become a general."
"I give you food and shelter not so that you may go to your deaths, but so that you may win a future for me and for your own families."
The word "officer" struck like a bolt of lightning, shattering the dazed minds of these five Irish men.
They were called trash, drunkards, and penniless people their whole lives.
This was the first time someone had told them they could become "officers".
Seamus took the charcoal with trembling hands.
He drew his first word on the ground, crookedly and awkwardly.
When Li Wei wrote down the letters representing Patrick's name on the stone slab—letters that even Patrick himself didn't recognize—the forty-year-old man's eyes immediately welled up with tears.
He had lived half his life, and this was the first time he had ever known that his name was written like this.
He stretched out his calloused and scarred hands, picked up a piece of charcoal, and clumsily imitated it on another stone slab.
The hand that once wielded a heavy hammer and pulled a thousand-pound cable could not even hold a small piece of charcoal.
But Patrick's expression was one of unprecedented devotion.
Finn stood aside, watching the scene unfold, and felt that he had made the right bet this time.
He finally understood that the "land and respect" offered by this Easterner were not just empty words.
He was making an investment, investing his most valuable knowledge in this group of Irish people abandoned by the governor's government.
Fiona stood aside, quietly watching all of this.
She watched as those burly men, who had been rolling in the mud during the day, now huddled around a lamp like a group of children, arguing heatedly over a newly learned letter and a simple addition problem.
She looked at Levi, the man who was patiently correcting Liam's pen-holding posture.
His profile looked exceptionally focused under the light.
Fiona suddenly understood what Levi had once told her: "We are just following the rules."
He was following the laws of survival by giving food to these desperate people.
He trained them with strict discipline and teamwork, following the principles of warfare.
Now, he teaches them to read and do arithmetic, perhaps following a deeper principle.
Fiona herself simply doesn't understand it yet. But what does it matter if she doesn't understand?
All I know is that what Mr. Li did was right.
Fiona was still lost in thought when Levi suddenly called out "Fiona," interrupting her train of thought.
"Fiona, call Boyle over tomorrow night, alone!"