Chapter 82
Presentation
Without the slightest hesitation, the accelerator was slammed on, and the heavy truck charged forward like an enraged bull.
It smashed through the entire gate, sending pieces of wood and debris flying everywhere, along with several corpses that looked like shredded cloth.
After the heavy trucks destroyed the wooden door, the pickup trucks followed the damaged area into Horus Ranch.
Seeing their comrades killed, the remaining dozen or so cowboys opened fire on the numerous vehicles.
Caesar jerked the steering wheel and rammed straight into one of the men.
The sharp horn pierced the cowboy directly. Although not sharp, the powerful horn instantly tore the cowboy to pieces. With the rolling of the wheel, the cowboy was like a meat patty stuck to the ground.
The pickup trucks also rammed into people indiscriminately, killing several in a row.
Those usually arrogant cowboys scurried around like mice seeing a cat, completely abandoning their previous desire for revenge.
Only the desire to live.
They were more familiar with the terrain and quickly located places where vehicles couldn't get in.
Caesar, holding a walkie-talkie, shouted, "Get out of the car, it's urban warfare. Everyone be careful, put on your bulletproof vests."
After saying that, Frank jumped out of the car, and Caesar followed suit.
Frank acted swiftly, his eyes bloodshot. As soon as he entered the ranch, he saw Al's burning house, the small wooden cabin quickly reduced to ashes.
The few people still fighting the fire looked at the wooden house, which was now almost nothing but a skeleton, with expressions of utter despair.
Frank let out a desperate roar, staring intently at the culprits, Horus's lackeys, the cowboys.
He darted forward, closing in on the cowboys who were cowering and hiding from the vehicles.
Frank strode toward them, his carbine spitting out bullets, striking several cowboys in succession.
A hazy mist of blood splattered from the dense bullets, and before the men could retaliate, they were knocked to the ground.
Frank's face was cold. His magazine was empty. He pulled a fully loaded magazine from his vest, reloaded it, and fired again.
Even after the cowboys died, their corpses were still whipped, causing them to tremble violently.
Caesar didn't intend to stop Frank, but he was a little sad about El's death. There were too many people on the ranch who used their fists; he needed more people who used their brains.
Shaking his head, before Caesar could even engage in battle, he heard Mor's hoarse voice coming from not far away.
"Boss, those cowboys have all been cleaned up."
Caesar replied, "Gather all the bodies for me, leave none behind."
After saying this, Caesar walked toward Frank.
Frank had already lowered his gun. The corpse in front of him was unrecognizable. Not only the head, but also the chest, legs, and arms were riddled with bullet holes, and blood was flowing out.
"Frank, the cowboys have taken care of everything."
Frank raised his head slightly to look at Caesar, whose expression was indifferent. Before he could ask a question, he heard Caesar say, "Just scum. He's dead, so what. There's nothing to explain."
"Let's go, we still need to tell the other residents that the ranch is about to change."
Caesar turned and left without asking any questions. Frank watched Caesar walk away and unconsciously followed.
After Caesar came out, he said to one of the combatants who was carrying a corpse, "There are still a few corpses in here. Take them out with you."
The team member nodded. "I understand, boss."
An hour later, the bodies were piled up, and a dozen or so bodies could be stacked into a small heap.
Caesar stood on the high ground, looking at the residents who had gathered in front of him, their eyes filled with wariness and fear.
Caesar smiled, responding to the residents' distrustful gazes.
Standing next to Caesar, Mor, facing the unfriendly gaze, wore a mocking smile. "Boss, do we really need these people?"
Caesar glanced at Mor: "The food you eat, the house you live in, and the things you use are all made by these people. Without them, your fighting strength is of little use."
Moore shrugged. "I can just take their stuff; I don't need them to build it for me."
Caesar remained noncommittal, glanced at More, and said calmly, "Daryl won't agree to you doing this."
Moore frowned, thought for a moment and nodded, then his expression immediately changed as he retorted, "I'm the older brother, I don't need his permission."
"Oh, really?" Caesar raised an eyebrow and looked at Daryl, who was standing in the distance.
Daryl, carrying a crossbow, was eating a can of food he'd somehow found, his eyes focused, munching away with relish.
Fighters stood around the scattered crowd and around Caesar.
Seeing that most people had arrived, Caesar opened his arms, took two steps forward, and said warmly, "Hello everyone, I am Caesar, the rancher of Caesar Ranch."
"You all should remember our ranch, right? The ranch that was attacked by your members before."
Upon hearing this, the crowd below looked at Caesar and Mor with surprise.
"Look, they're the same two who came to the ranch last time. They attacked us before, and now they're back."
"Heh, they didn't even lay a hand on us last time, and they didn't lay a hand on us this time either. You call this an attack? You sympathize with capitalists?"
"You... I didn't, I just... said it casually."
"The last time they came was because of those two bastards, Ram, who went to someone's ranch to steal things."
"Yeah, they deserved it. Shouldn't they retaliate?"
"..."
The crowd buzzed with discussion, some well-intentioned, others malicious, while Caesar watched them converse with a smile.
Then Caesar made a pausing gesture and continued, "In fact, you have all been deceived by Horus."
"Actually, the last time Ram and the others appeared around my ranch, it wasn't for any other reason than Horus's order to attack my ranch."
"My ranch has lost several people like you, who worked diligently for the ranch. They did nothing but work and get paid. And they were killed so innocently."
Caesar reveals the truth of the matter, shifting the blame to the dead Horus, and classifying the poor victims who died because of Horus's evil orders as people in the same predicament as the inhabitants before him.
This can evoke their sympathy.
Sure enough, the residents below immediately began cursing Horus. They were already dissatisfied with Horus's long-term exploitation, and this time their anger erupted.
After listening to their venting, Caesar continued, "The hatred between me and Horus is between me and Horus, and has nothing to do with you, the residents of Horus Ranch."
"So I thought that with Horus gone, our hatred would be wiped clean."