Chapter 82: Speech
Without the slightest hesitation, the gas pedal was stomped. The heavy truck crashed forward like an enraged bull, solid and firm.
It demolished the entire gate directly. Wood blocks and fragments flew in all directions, mixed with several corpses like tattered cloth.
After the heavy truck destroyed the wooden gate, the pickups also followed through the breach into Horus's ranch.
Seeing their companions killed, the remaining dozen or so cowboys fired at the numerous vehicles.
Caesar forcefully turned the steering wheel, charging straight at one person.
The sharp horn directly impaled that cowboy. Though not sharp, the immensely powerful ram instantly tore the cowboy into pieces. Plus with the wheels rolling, he was like a meat pancake stuck to the ground.
The pickups also rammed randomly, consecutively killing several people.
Those cowboys who were usually arrogant and domineering were now like mice seeing a cat, scattering in all directions. They no longer had any thought of revenge from just moments ago.
Only desire for life remained.
They were more familiar with the terrain and quickly found places vehicles couldn't enter.
Caesar grabbed the walkie-talkie and shouted: "Get out. Alley fighting. Everyone be careful. Put on your bulletproof vests properly."
Having said this, Frank jumped from the vehicle. Caesar also followed and jumped down.
Frank moved very swiftly. His eyes were bloodshot. As soon as he entered the ranch, he saw El's burning residence. The small cabin was quickly burned to nothing.
The few people still fighting the fire also looked at the cabin—now almost only a skeleton—with collapsed expressions.
Frank let out a tragic roar, staring deadly at those culprits—Horus's lackeys, the cowboys.
He surged forward in a rush, approaching those cowboys who were cowering and hiding behind vehicles.
Frank strode toward them. The carbine in his hand continuously spat bullets, striking several cowboys in succession.
Dense bullets splashed up a layer of hazy blood mist. Before the few could counterattack, they were shot down to the ground.
Frank's expression was ice-cold. The magazine emptied. He pulled a full magazine from his vest, reloaded, and fired again.
Even though several cowboys were already dead, they were still desecrated, their corpses twitching chaotically.
Caesar had no intention of stopping Frank. He just felt somewhat regretful about El's death. The ranch had too many who used fists. He needed more who used their brains.
Shaking his head, Caesar hadn't yet had time to join the battle when he heard Merle's hoarse voice from not far away.
"Boss, all those cowboys have been completely cleaned up."
Caesar responded: "Collect all the corpses for me. Don't leave a single one behind."
Having said this, Caesar walked toward Frank.
Frank had already put down his gun. The corpses before him were beyond recognition—not just the heads, but even the chests, legs, and arms were shot full of dense bullet holes. Blood pollution flowed out.
"Frank, the cowboys are all dealt with."
Frank slightly raised his head, looking at Caesar's indifferent expression. Before he could ask, he heard Caesar say: "Just scum. Dead is dead. Nothing needs explaining."
"Let's go. We still need to tell the other residents the ranch has changed hands from now on."
Caesar turned and left without asking much. Frank watched Caesar's figure walk outward and unconsciously followed.
After Caesar walked out, he said to a combat member who was lifting corpses: "Inside here, there are several more corpses. Lift them out together."
The team member nodded. "I understand, boss."
An hour later, the corpses were piled together. Over a dozen corpses could pile into a small heap.
Caesar stood at a high position, looking at the residents gathered before him. Their eyes watched Caesar with vigilance and fear.
Caesar's mouth held a smile as he smiled in response to the residents' distrustful gazes.
Standing beside Caesar was Merle. Facing the not-too-kind eyes, Merle's face was full of mocking laughter. "Boss, do we really need this bunch of people?"
Caesar glanced at Merle: "The things you eat, the house you live in, the items you use—all are made by this kind of people. Without them, no matter how strong your combat ability, it won't have much use."
Merle shrugged his shoulders. "I can just rob their things. Don't need them to make things for me."
Caesar was noncommittal. He looked at Merle and said lightly: "Daryl won't agree to you doing that."
Merle's brow furrowed. He thought about it and nodded, then his expression immediately became wrong. He retorted: "I'm the older brother. I don't need his agreement."
"Oh, is that so?" Caesar raised an eyebrow, looking toward Daryl standing in the distance.
Daryl had his crossbow on his back, holding a can scavenged from who knows where, eating with relish. His gaze was focused. He ate very happily with his hands.
Around the scattered crowd, combat personnel stood around Caesar.
Caesar saw that people had arrived about enough. He spread both arms, stepped forward two paces, and said amiably: "Hello everyone. I'm the ranch owner of Caesar's ranch, Caesar."
"Everyone should still remember our ranch, right? The ranch that was previously attacked by your members."
Hearing this, the eyes of the crowd below instantly became astonished, looking back and forth between Caesar and Merle.
"Look, they're those two people who came to the ranch last time. They attacked us before, and now they've come again."
"Heh, last time they didn't attack us at all, and this time they haven't attacked us either. You call this an attack? Are you empathizing with capitalists?"
"You... I'm not. I just... just saying."
"Last time they came wasn't it because of those two bastards Ram and the others? They went to someone's ranch to steal things on their own."
"Right. They deserved it. Shouldn't people retaliate?"
"..."
The crowd discussed spiritedly. There were well-intentioned ones, and naturally also malicious ones. Caesar smiled as he watched them converse.
Then Caesar made a quiet gesture and continued: "In fact, you were all deceived by Horus."
"Actually, last time Ram and them appeared around my ranch not for anything else, but because of Horus's orders—ordering them to attack my ranch."
"My ranch lost several people at once. People like you who work diligently for the ranch. They clearly hadn't done anything—just worked and earned compensation. They were killed so innocently."
Caesar revealed the truth of the incident, pushing the blame toward the dead Horus, and classified the poor victims who died from Horus's evil orders as people in the same situation as the residents before him.
This could arouse their sympathy.
Sure enough, the residents below immediately began cursing Horus. They'd already been dissatisfied with Horus's long-term exploitation. Now it erupted even more.
Caesar listened to them vent their emotions for a while, then continued: "The hatred between me and Horus is between me and Horus. It has nothing to do with you residents of Horus's ranch."
"So I thought that with Horus missing, the hatred between us is wiped clean with one stroke."
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