The mage in the late Qing Dynasty

However, the townspeople only threatened him and did not actually take action.

Freddy Pavitt was relieved. He summoned Ning An and said, "You are more approachable. I would like to invite you to go to the town and talk to the residents."

Ning An has flowing black hair and "beautiful" facial features. After being tempered during this period of time, Ning An has become a bit more sassy.

He nodded: "No problem, I'll go test it out first."

It’s September, and the autumn air is crisp.

It has been sunny for many days, but as we all know, rainfall is high at this time, and if God says it will turn against us, it will turn against us.

The air was faintly filled with moisture before the storm.

Ning'an chatted with the townspeople of Kurdex.

"Man, let me ask you a question, you are a man, right?"

Ning An's eyelids twitched, he wanted to take out his gun and kill this cheap man.

"Yes." He suppressed his anger. "What do you think of the Apex Weapons Factory?"

The man shrugged: "I don't have any objection because I haven't lost my job yet."

"Ah?" Ning An was a little confused and felt that something was wrong: "What does this have to do with unemployment?"

The man rolled his eyes: "Don't you understand? Oh, I forgot, you are a cowboy, and you are not unemployed yet. Do you know that many people are unemployed? The construction of the Apex Weapons Factory did not even hire a local Manpower, do you think they’ll be happy?”

Ning An felt that he had grasped the key point, and quickly took out a cigarette and handed it over, but he didn't smoke it himself and didn't have this habit.

He prepared this cigarette deliberately because he always saw Zhao Chuanxin passing cigarettes to socialize.

The man took the cigarette, put it under his nose to smell it, couldn't help but light it, and puffed away happily. As expected, they came to talk: "Since the earthquake in San Francisco last year, many people have begun to lose their jobs.

People in our town feel that the Vertex Weapons Factory will not employ local people and will destroy the environment, so of course they are not happy.

You know, Putnam Lake is a shining pearl of Kurdex.

Even if we destroy this pearl, we can at least let everyone have enough to eat, right? "

Ning'an knows what is happening but does not know why.

And that person only knows that the unemployment rate is increasing.

From 1894 to 1904, the United States made rapid progress on the road to industrialization and even replaced Britain's position.

During this period, financiers actively brought together more than 1,800 companies in the United States to more than 80 by giving full play to their communicative skills and the charm of their money.

The numbers are staggering, considering how many large companies have grown by acquiring weaker competitors during tough economic times.

In ten years, the total assets of U.S. financial institutions grew from $9.1 billion to $21 billion.

In the economic crisis caused by the San Francisco earthquake last year, which Zhao Chuanxin made a fortune from, the total losses in San Francisco at that time were US$350 million to US$500 million, accounting for 1.2% of the US gross national product in 1906.

The money supply has been shrinking since 1904, and the massive demand for funds triggered by last year's San Francisco earthquake has intensified this trend.

Asset prices fell slowly and slightly.

From September 1906 to the end of February 1907, the stock index of all listed companies in the United States fell by 7.7%.

In the process of money supply tightening, it seems that prices have fallen, which seems to be beneficial to the people.

But in fact, falling commodity prices have also caused companies to reduce costs and reduce production, leading to an increase in unemployment.

Everything changes quietly and quietly.

If Zhao Chuanxin hadn't been familiar with the history of several economic crises, he would certainly not have felt the foreshadowing of "the storm is about to come", let alone Ning'an and ordinary people.

The man sighed and said melancholy: "Those bullshit bankers on Wall Street claimed in newspapers that the financial market has been recovering recently, but the number of unemployed people has not decreased at all. It can be seen that these sons of bitches are talking nonsense."

Ning An didn't know that the phenomenon this man was talking about was directly related to Thomas W. Lawson, who was under Zhao Chuanxin.

Ning An got the answer he wanted and went back to reply to Freddy Pavitt.

Freddy Pavitt patted his forehead as his hair loss worsened: "What bullshit environmental pollution, that's what it is! I didn't think carefully, thinking that the mayor agreed readily and represented the thoughts of the townspeople. Now that we have found the crux, then So solved!”

Just increase local jobs.

…

Let’s talk about Zhao Chuanxin.

After breakfast, he rode Mishan towards New York City.

He was accompanied by Marcus Nkrumah, riding a sturdy black Morgan horse.

Zhao Chuanxin could even see a hint of complaint on the horse's face.

It's so heavy.

On the contrary, Mishan, the bonus given by elastic boots is like riding a moped alone, having fun going uphill and going downhill happily.

An ordinary horse can travel 150 kilometers a day, but Mishan can travel four times that amount.

After entering the city, Marcus Nkrumah on horseback became dazzling, shining like a black light bulb.

As an Asian, Zhao Chuanxin could only place second.

Looking at those malicious eyes, Zhao Chuanxin felt his hands itching unbearably, and he missed the scene where the blood flowed into the river.

Until they arrived in Brooklyn, the malicious eyes turned into surprised expressions.

Most of the people living here are people of color from the bottom of society, 80% of whom are black.

In New York, which is located in a maritime climate zone, the temperature in September is not fixed.

It's cool today.

Marcus Nkrumah's well-fitting and neat work clothes, and his majestic horse under his crotch, made him look polished and outstanding among his kind.

Zhao Chuanxin took out a piece of paper, looked at the address on it, compared it with the street and house number, and then went to a house and knocked on the door.

The person who opened the door was a fat black woman, one of the few at this time, looking warily and suspiciously at Zhao Chuanxin and Marcus Nkrumah, who was leading the horse.

She said in a bad tone: "Who are you looking for?"

Zhao Chuanxin deliberately called him by his first name and not his surname to show his familiarity: "Look for your second son, Isaiah."

But the fat black woman still didn't let down her guard: "Did he cause trouble? It won't bring harm to the family. You should know the rules!"

"Not yet, but if you don't call him out, he will definitely cause trouble for you in the future." Zhao Chuanxin shrugged: "Because I came here to do his brother a favor and find him a job."

The fat black woman's eyes lit up: "Are you telling the truth?"

Her two children like to get into trouble and hang out on the streets. One is already in jail, and the other is always on the verge of jail.

Isn’t it because you don’t have a job?

It is difficult for black people to find jobs. Samuel Gompers, leader of the New York Federation of Labor, publicly stated that unions are for white people, not for black people to find jobs.

Zhao Chuanxin said: "Of course, now go and call him out."

Isaiah is short and has curly hair combed into locks.

The mandible is wide and the eyes protrude, making him look like a monster.

Wearing a cheap, wrinkled linen shirt that looked like a rag, he came out swinging his arms, with a deliberately unruly look on his face, looking at Zhao Chuanxin as if he was looking for trouble.

But after seeing the size of the two of them, that arrogance was diminished.

Zhao Chuanxin is okay, but Marcus Nkrumah looks like a silverback gorilla.

There was going to be a conflict that would kill Isaiah.

Isaiah coughed dryly, originally intending to raise his pitch, but unconsciously lowered it a bit: "What do you want from me?"

Zhao Chuanxin looked at his mother and pulled him aside: "Your brother asked me to come. This is a letter he wrote. Can you read it?"

Isaiah nodded, took the letter and read it.

Then he handed it back to Zhao Chuanxin: "Yes, he wrote it. So, what do you want from me?"

"..." Zhao Chuanxin said angrily: "You don't know why I'm looking for you after reading this?"

"Well, I can understand his name and the handwriting of his name, but I can't understand the rest."

He is also a talent.

Zhao Chuanxin got straight to the point: "I am short of manpower, and your brother recommended you to me. Do you want to do it?"

As soon as I heard that there was a shortage of manpower, Isaiah knew instinctively that this was not a legal and compliant business.

He didn't even think about it: "Does it have any benefits?"

Zhao Chuanxin was seriously short of money.

So he was a little unsure: "I'm responsible for food and drink, as long as there's wine and meat."

But Isaiah didn’t want to promise: “That’s great, but you must fulfill your promise.”

Damn, Zhao Chuanxin never expected that this guy’s requirements were so low.

I thought he would at least give me a weekly salary increase of 2 yuan.

He didn't know how difficult it was for black people at this time, let alone that even white people's unemployment rate was rising.

Since he agreed to do the work, Zhao Chuanxin was not polite: "Okay, come with me and help me recruit some people."

Isaiah went back and murmured a few words to his mother, then went back into the house and took a dagger and stuffed it into his lower back.

"Boss, who should we go to now?"

"Go find the ten Smith brothers."

"Boss, they are not easy to mess with. The Cotton Nightclub managed by these guys is famous for the fact that the third child injured a white man and went to jail while protecting the place. It is unlikely that they will do anything for you."

The implication is that these people have a prosperous life, make money, dare to openly beat white people, and will not give up for five buckets of rice.

"Haha, they can't refuse the conditions I offered."

Isaiah looked at Marcus Nkrumah and thought that the Smith brothers together might not be able to defeat this humanoid beast.

He looked at Zhao Chuanxin and the two riding horses with envy.

Whether in New York or elsewhere, there are very few black people riding horses.

On the other hand, in the Midwest, there are many Asian cowboys riding horses.

When we arrived at the Cotton Nightclub, it was already dark.

Zhao Chuanxin handed the horse to the doorman at the door: "Take good care of my horse."

A sign with peeling paint hangs outside Cotton Nightclub, and a huge poster depicts Cotton, a saxophone and a black cat on the wall.

He led the two of them upstairs.

When I arrived at the door, I heard jazz music and loud voices coming from the hall.

Quite lively.

No wonder Isaiah said the Smith brothers did well.

"Boss, the one with the scar on his face at the door is the biggest Smith."

Isaiah has been on the streets all year round and knows the people in the world very well.

Big Smith also saw Isaiah: "Isaiah, I warned you, don't come to Cotton Nightclub to play in the autumn breeze if you don't have money. Poor people are not welcome here."

Isaiah paused timidly.

"Give yourself some confidence." Zhao Chuanxin patted Isaiah on the shoulder. Just when he showed gratitude, Zhao Chuanxin said again: "You can tell him that today he is here to pick up leftovers."

"..." Isaiah's smile was worse than crying.

Zhao Chuanxin laughed and walked forward: "Are you the Big Smith? Where are all the 2, 4, 5, 6, 7, 8, and 90 Smiths?"

Big Smith raised his chin and looked up at Zhao Chuanxin: "You are here to have fun, so I welcome you. If you are here to cause trouble, don't blame me for being rude."

Zhao Chuanxin took out a stack of papers, flipped through them, took out one and handed it over.

After reading it, Big Smith narrowed his eyes: "Are you the third inmate? Haha, do you think you can force our brothers to do things for you with a piece of paper?"