Chapter 251 Breath of Death

Chapter 252 The Breath of Death

"Thank God!"

Fouche jumped out of the carriage, and the last words the Crown Prince said to him before leaving Paris flashed through his mind - "Go ahead and do it. This may be the most glorious moment in your intelligence career."

"Yes, the most glorious moment!" He licked his mouth, like a beast about to taste its prey.

He strode towards the wooden house, turned his head and asked the police intelligence officer beside him:

"Can we start tomorrow?"

"Yes, sir." The latter nodded immediately, "The speech started two days ago. People are already extremely angry."

Fouche suddenly remembered Necker's cave before, frowned and said:

"Have you checked whether there is a secret passage around?"

"It's difficult to confirm, sir. However, Count Tiole rarely lives there, so he probably won't do much decoration. And we have also arranged manpower in the surrounding buildings."

The official paused and looked at Fouche: "Sir, there is another difficult question."

"What is it?"

"The Duke of Orleans's guards have more than a hundred people, and they are well-trained. If a conflict really breaks out, even if there are thousands of rioters, they may not be able to defeat them."

Fouche frowned: "Where are our people?"

"A total of more than 60 people were mobilized from the Police Intelligence Department. You know, our people are not good at direct combat. The secret police are even less likely to count."

Fouche came to the lobby on the first floor, and everyone in the busy Police Information Department stood at attention and saluted him.

Fouche raised his hat casually and walked straight to the map of Amore City. He looked at it intently for a long time, but still shook his head slightly.

"No, there must be a way..."

He paced back and forth in the room anxiously, catching a glimpse of the light of a lighthouse in the distance from the corner of his eye.

He suddenly stopped and an excited smile appeared on his lips:

"Yes, this is Brittany! There are ships and shipyards everywhere, there will always be something like that."

He immediately summoned the officials in charge of the operation and gave a few instructions in a low voice.

The latter looked shocked and hesitated:

"It should be possible, but...our people may not be very good at using that thing."

"It doesn't matter." Fouche smiled, "This is Brittany. It shouldn't be difficult to find a few experienced sailors or retired soldiers among the citizens."

The next afternoon.

Still following the familiar process, the speaker began to gather citizens in the city, and someone in the crowd explained the contents of the pamphlet to everyone.

“When the man told Count Thiole that this might cause the price of bread to skyrocket, do you know what he said?” The young man giving the speech waved his hand. “He said ‘if they don’t have money, they should eat straw’!”

"This devil!" The crowd roared angrily, "He should be eating grass!"

"This guy is a murderer!"

"kill him!"

Bretons are notoriously tough and difficult to talk to. Two to three hundred years ago, piracy was a pillar industry here.

The members of the "Iron Helmet" gang who had been arranged long ago greeted everyone and rushed towards Count Tiole's manor. He is the "8 of Spears" ranked 30th on Joseph's "Poker Cards" [Note 1].

Then, not surprisingly, the more than 1,300 citizens who wanted to settle accounts with Count Thiole were blocked from the manor. In front of them was a two-row formation composed of more than 60 guards, with brand-new Charleville 1776 flintlock guns pointed at everyone.

For a while, no one dared to get closer - the aura exuded by those guards was extremely unusual, and just one glance would make people nervous - but they were unwilling to leave either. The citizens just surrounded the gate of the manor from a distance and kept cursing.

Just as the two sides were in a stalemate, a group of women drove two carriages.

They lifted up the straw on the carriage, revealing the dark metal cylinder underneath, and shouted proudly:

"The Moccasin was about to install this thing, so we towed it from the dock!"

The crowd suddenly burst into cheers. More than a dozen strong men laboriously moved the wooden frames and metal tubes from the car, and others skillfully assembled them.

A six-pounder gun commonly used in armed merchant ships suddenly appeared in front of everyone.

"Who would use this thing?"

Before the agent from the Police Intelligence Department finished speaking, several people crowded over:

"Leave it to me. I've been dealing with this old friend on the ship for twenty years."

"I can use it too, I served in the artillery."

"And I……"

Several people completed the filling in a hurry. The middle-aged sailor used a hammer to hit the wedge-shaped wooden pin on the gun mount to adjust the height, and then stretched out his thumb to take a look in the direction of the manor:

"Well, that's okay."

The crowd of onlookers immediately dispersed to both sides. Only then did the guards at the door notice that there was an extremely eye-catching black thing 150 steps away.

"It's a cannon!"

The captain of the Duke of Orleans's guard hissed in surprise.

However, before the guards could react, the young sailor in the distance pressed the ignition stick against the fire door.

There was a loud "bang", firelight splashed, and gunpowder smoke rose.

A 6-pound iron ball roared past the queue of guards, and the three men were instantly torn to pieces by the huge impact. Two people nearby were knocked unconscious by their flying limbs.

The momentum of the cannonball did not slow down at all, and it hit the pillar of the manor gate, destroying more than half of the gate in an instant. The debris that collapsed killed two more guards and stabbed one person in the leg.

At a distance of 150 steps, this type of ship-mounted cannon hardly needs to be aimed, and the straight trajectory ensures that it has a very high hit rate.

The remaining guards were horrified and hurriedly scattered to try to avoid it.

Less than a minute later, there was another thunderous roar.

This time the shell did not hit the guard directly, but went directly through the stone fence, bounced up after landing, continued to fly forward, and finally hit the wall of the villa heavily.

The manor of Count Thiol is not big, only about 300 meters from the gate to the villa, so the shell still maintained a considerable momentum and smashed a corner of the outer wall directly.

On the second floor of the villa, the Duke of Orleans was discussing with Count Thiol and another nobleman about the conflict in the Palace of Versailles about "cancelling privileges" and whether it could be used to gain political benefits.

The three suddenly heard a roar in the distance and stood up in surprise.

When the captain of the guard rushed into the house and told them that the mob was bombarding here with cannons, the villa trembled again, followed by the excited shouts of the rioters.

As the third cannon was fired, the guards of the Duke of Orleans finally couldn't hold on and turned around and ran into the villa. Even the most elite troops would have the courage to face the cannons at such a close distance, not to mention that there were thousands of rioters around the cannons.

The angry citizens immediately chased after them, shouting and knocking down the slow-running guards, and beating them up.

It was not until the crowd ran to the vicinity of the villa that they stopped under the threat of bullets fired from the window.

"These guys wanted to starve us to death before, and now they want to kill us!" someone roared.

"Go in, I want to avenge my child!"

"But they have guns..."

"Drag the cannon over here, let them have a taste of power!"

The Duke of Orleans watched in shock as the rioters surrounded the villa, and stood at the window and shouted:

"I am Louis Philippe II, your Duke of Orleans..."

However, the roar of the rioting citizens easily suppressed his voice, and no one noticed what the guy in the blue gown at the window was saying.

"My Lord Duke, it's dangerous!" The captain of the guard hurriedly dragged him back to the living room.

Not long after, the cannon appeared less than 200 steps in front of the villa, and several citizens quickly stuffed gunpowder and shells into the muzzle.

"Bang--"

The black iron ball flew straight to the second floor of the villa with the breath of death.

[Note 1] In the French playing card culture, the suit "spades" is called "spears".