I Became The Crown Prince Of The Mexican Empire - Chapter 158



Only Noblemtl

Crack-

The harsh crack of a whip echoed through the farm day after day.

“Hey! You punk! Try to escape! Do you really want to be dog food? Huh?”

The supervisor cracked his whip every time he said a word.

“I told you not to even dream of escaping. I told you you’d be caught no matter what. You idiot.”

Woof! Woof! Woof!

At the feet of the black man hanging from the tree, dogs were angling for his feet as if they were going to bite them. The moment he stretched out his feet, they would bite him. The hanging man writhed in pain and fear.

Crack-

“Ugh!”

The barking of dogs, the cracking of whips, and the groans of pain echoed for more than half a day, but everyone pretended not to notice.

These days, the farm owners are more concerned with politics than with the management of their farms, but the tyranny of their workers has become more severe. They know very well what is going on in the current situation and why their employers are working so hard.

“If you try to run away one more time, I will kill you for real.”

It was not something he could kill at will without the master’s permission, but the overseer said so with a grin.

Recently, the human rights of black slaves, which did not exist to begin with, have fallen even further into the abyss.

Because Southerners began to treat slaves more harshly in reaction to strong pressure from the North and Mexico to free them.

The already high price of slaves was further increased by the 300,000 slaves taken by Mexico.

“Take the dog.”

The overseer, who had been physically punishing a slave who had tried to escape for a long time, finally seemed to have calmed down and gave orders to his subordinates.

“And take this guy and treat him. He can go back to work tomorrow.”

“yes.”

It was harsh to order him to start working tomorrow after leaving his entire body in shambles, but it would serve as an example to those who had been harboring vain thoughts recently.

In order to overcome the difficult economic situation in the South, the method chosen by the Southerners was to squeeze more slaves.

A life that was more difficult than before the war and the hope that they might be liberated were driving black people into hell.

Although the crackdown on escapees has been strengthened to a degree that is incomparable to that before the war, escape attempts are increasing.

“Foolish things.”

“They say it can’t be helped because the brain capacity is small.”

While the two employees were laughing like that, a guest visited the farm.

The gentleman, who arrived in an obviously expensive and fancy carriage, announced that he had come to make an important business proposal.

“Are you the famous Leo Clark from around here? He used to run a gun factory up north?”

“Yes, now I have sold everything and am looking for investors again.”

“Oh, welcome! A patriot has come, so of course we must listen to his story.”

This man, Leo Clark, who was from the South but had been running a gun factory in the North, had recently become quite famous in the South. It was known that when his native South gained independence, he would sell his Northern property and come down to the South to set up a gun factory again.

Until the early 19th century, most firearms used by the U.S. military were made in government-owned arsenals, but in the past decade, privately owned gun factories have also been on the rise.

The farm owner, who happened to be on the farm, welcomed him. The South desperately needed such a patriot. Rumor had it that he was not asking for donations but rather to solicit investment, so there was no reason to be reluctant.

“Oh, this guy is my slave, just give him a place in the slave quarters.”

‘Is it for security? You’re more scared than I thought.’

He had three white bodyguards and even a strong black slave with him. But it was understandable, since he might have to do various chores.

“Of course.”

Exactly-

As he waved his hand, one of the employees took the slave away.

The real story began. Leo Clark’s plan was ambitious.

“What I’m planning is a massive arms factory, much bigger than the one I originally ran. As you know, the South needs arms more than ever now. The demand is overwhelming.”

“Well, that’s definitely true.”

“This situation will continue for at least 10 years, so for me, who already has the technology and experience, this is an easier business than swimming with my feet on the ground. I will even provide half of the capital, so there is virtually no risk for investors.”

Before he could even admire the flashy rhetoric, Leo Clark had a gun on the table.

Clank-

“This is the weapon I’m making. It’s a gun that’s considered state-of-the-art even in the North.”

“Huh!”

He was indeed an expert. He quickly disassembled and reassembled the gun on the spot and explained his firearms skills in detail. His thoroughly prepared logic and his background as a factory operator in the North fascinated the farm owner.

While the plantation owner was being entranced by Leo Clark’s eloquence, something similar was happening in the slave quarters.

As the day grew dark and the hard labor was over, the returning slaves began to harass a slave belonging to a guest on the plantation named Wilson.

“How much did you flatter your master?”

“This fucking kid, look at that rascal hanging out there with a rope. Are you bragging about selling out your own kind?”

Wilson’s sturdy build, his healthy complexion, the rope hanging from his trousers, and the fact that his master took him with him when he went out – all these were suspicious signs.

If you were a wealthy man who owned many slaves, it would naturally be up to white overseers to supervise them, but there were also black people who did the same thing. Wherever you went, there were disgusting people who, even though they were black and slaves, would spy on black people and snit-pick them in order to flatter white people.

“A Jackson-like kid.”

In this mansion, it was Jackson.

“From the way you say it, I guess that Jackson guy is in that mansion.”

“Yeah. You’re a nitpicker.”

In fact, you can’t do any harm to the guest’s slave. If you do, you’ll be whipped. But you can gather together and curse and scare them.

In a tense atmosphere where everyone was staring at him, Wilson responded calmly.

“By the way, do you know what those Southerners did during the Mexican War?”

“Huh? What do you know, you little punk? Does that matter now?”

As the man in the lead said that, Wilson suddenly screamed!

“It’s important! It’s important! They used 30,000 black people as meat shields on the battlefield! They gave them only wooden spears and sent them charging at the Mexican Empire’s army! Isn’t that important?”

The shout of the muscular man, who was so big that he was almost muscular, startled everyone.

The blacks were silent. They were surprised, but they were also afraid that the white supervisors would come to their quarters. It was already late at night, so everyone except the guards at the entrance and the warehouse had probably gone home, but if they were yelling at this level, they could have heard it.

“···”

But Wilson said confidently, as if he didn’t care about such things.

“The men who did that are now in the leadership of the Confederacy. Can you guarantee that it won’t happen again?”

“···”

Even though they were slaves confined to the plantation, there were ways for rumors to spread. The plantation owners and their employees were careful not to reveal any information to the outside world, but they still took their slaves with them when they went to the city to sell crops or make purchases.

In the cities, information was not easily controlled, and blacks shared rumors secretly. They knew that the South had become independent because of the slavery issue, and that war was imminent.

“That is why we must resist! Not by trying to escape for a moment and then dying in vain, but more viciously, secretly, and systematically!”

“There’s no way that’s possible!”

Someone spoke in a trembling voice.

“No, it is possible! Why! The South will bet everything on a war with the North. These bastards think losing their slaves is the same as losing their lives. There will be a huge mobilization of troops, and the number of plantation workers will be reduced accordingly.”

Wilson’s words were logical, but more importantly, they contained ‘hope.’ They were soon completely absorbed by Wilson’s words.

Wilson spent the night giving instructions to the slaves while his colleagues swindled the clueless plantation owners out of huge amounts of money.

***

As the fall of 1847 approached, several murders occurred in Missouri.

“Damn it! This is the fifth time this month. You disgusting pro-slavery bastards.”

“What? You little punk. What did you just say? You little punk got caught.”

As the conflict between supporters of slavery and abolitionists intensified, bloodshed began to break out.

“The city… has become a complete mess.”

A man muttered this after seeing two men fighting on the street in the morning.

“Honey, shouldn’t we really immigrate?”

“To Mexico?···No matter what, that’s a bit···.”

It had only been a short time since the war ended. Their families had not been directly harmed, but some ill feelings still remained.

“I told you not to be so proud. We don’t even have slaves, and we’re going to the South to start a war. You said so. Do you want to be drafted?”

“···”

When the husband was speechless, the wife spoke first.

“I don’t like it. I’m so scared that something might happen to you. I hate it even more when I think that you might be drafted by the South, not the North.”

Given the current situation, the so-called border states could become part of the South at any time. The man told his wife so, so she couldn’t deny it.

“It’s not safe to go north, and if you want to go, you’ll probably have to go all the way to Canada, which is too cold and harsh. There aren’t as many immigration benefits as in the Mexican Empire.”

There was a reason why my wife was so desperate to persuade me.

The place with the most conflict in Missouri was Kansas City, which had suddenly become a border city.

This was because the Kansas Territory in the west had been ceded to the Mexican Empire and a huge number of people had migrated to Kansas City, just across the river.

They were furious.

“멕시코 개새끼들, 내 노예를 뺏어가? 그 멕시코랑 붙어먹는 너희도 개새끼들이야!”

If they wanted to escape, they should have done so immediately after the war was lost. However, most of those who owned slaves also owned farms, and there was no way the farms could be sold when everyone else was trying to leave.

While they were dawdling, the Mexican Empire used its military and police to forcibly free blacks throughout the new territory. They were even furious when they were told that they would only be given 160 acres of the farm itself and that the rest would be taken back.

Those who came over in such a heated manner were now active as staunch supporters of slavery even though there were no slaves, and there was a set place where the accumulated anger could be expressed.

It was the abolitionists who now got punches thrown in Kansas City bars if anyone complained about slavery or the Confederacy.

As things turned out, the abolitionists were not suffering either.

“The reason the war started in the first place was because of your greed!”

“Those slave owners have no shame. They are ugly bastards.”

The abolitionists’ attacks on slavery based on their claims of moral superiority only served to further inflame the already angry supporters of slavery.

In the chaos of a rapidly growing city, hatred easily turned to violence, and violence escalated to murder. There was no telling who would take the lead. Small-scale bloodshed occurred simultaneously across Missouri.

“Stop! Stop the violence and let’s talk!”

As the situation became truly serious, some people began to call for dialogue, but the feelings on both sides were already at a level that could not be reversed.

The cycle of hatred and violence quickly circulated. Articles even began to appear that politicians who were supposed to be handling the situation were so emotional that they committed acts of violence against each other.

September 11, 1847.

560 abolitionists attacked a Missouri plantation while cotton was being harvested.

Bang tata tang!

The farm also mobilized dozens of workers to resist, but they were no match for the overwhelming numbers, nearly ten to one.

The battle itself lasted less than two hours, but its aftermath was not small.

Someone broke a kerosene lamp during the fight. No one knew whether it was intentional or not.

Hwarurur-

“My, my farm!”

The fire quickly spread, and the entire farm began to burn along with the unharvested cotton.

When this news spread, the anger of the pro-slavery supporters burned as hot as that of the plantation.

November 1847.

The cotton harvest is over.