"Hurry up...set fire, set fire! Burn this building down completely!"
Paul followed the advance team and rushed into the gate. Seeing that the Moorish warriors had cleared out all the garrisoned soldiers and policemen, Paul did not dare to waste time and quickly ordered his men to set fire.
Paul knew very well that their actions this time were not really to help the Irish revolt. Everything they did was to help the head of state build momentum, with the purpose of ousting Benjamin from power.
Therefore, this uprising will be carried out with great momentum, but after tonight there will definitely be no action to aggravate the situation. To put it bluntly, the thunder will be loud and the rain will be small.
How can we make a big noise? Of course it was arson. In the dead of night, a fire burned down the customs building and the entire grain warehouse. There was no problem in burning the fire all day and all night.
The fire is burning big enough, and the London Parliament will be more exciting. According to the plan, the Parliament will start the debate at nine o'clock in the morning. By then, Gladstone and Benjamin will go shirtless and fight face to face.
At the most critical moment, the telegram from Dublin was delivered to London. Such big news must not be hidden, and it will spread quickly in Congress.
At that time, the angry MPs will only vent their anger on the Prime Minister. The proud British cattle will never tolerate a rebellion in Ireland. No one will reflect on the uprising caused by their cruel rule. They will only look for a scapegoat to kill. And then continue sucking blood from Ireland.
Push Benjamin to the altar of sacrifice and let him be the scapegoat that everyone blames, and the matter will be settled!
Doors were opened one by one, accounting rooms, cashier rooms, archives, registration halls...all the tables, chairs and benches were doused with kerosene. Tons of accounts and cashier documents recorded the trade details of Dublin Customs over the past few years. , if this were to catch fire, there would be at least 50 to 60 million pounds of tariffs that could not be collected statistically.
"Damn British guys, burn your accounts, let's see how you drink blood from us... light fires!"
The torch passed over the pungent sky, and the red flame mixed with thick smoke billowed up.
"Smash the glass windows... let the air circulate, otherwise the fire will be difficult to spread..." Paul has been trained in arson techniques. For this kind of masonry structure, it is not that simple to completely burn down. You must consider Air convection issues throughout the building.
At this moment, more and more Irish people are pouring into the building. They don't know anything about air convection. The angry workers only know how to smash, loot, and vent their emotions hysterically.
"Smash... Smash the British customs. I asked you not to let us do business. I asked you to force us to hand over the grain..."
"Burn... burn all the accounts! Why do you want to take away our property? Why can we only eat potatoes? Why can't Catholics participate in politics?"
"The time for revenge has come! Long live independence! Long live Ireland!"
When Paul saw that the fire was almost over, he quickly ordered the mercenaries to withdraw. Let the mob do the rest. At this moment, the British barracks in the north should have begun to gather. Paul looked out from the broken window. He found that the wealthy areas where the British lived were already lit up.
That was when countless British people who were woken up lit the lights in the room, and all the sleeping people in the entire area woke up. When they saw the fire and smoke coming out of the customs building, the group of British people were all dumbfounded.
"There's a fire in the Customs Building? Where's the fire brigade? Wait...there's something wrong with this fire? Why are there more than a dozen fire points burning at the same time?"
At this moment, a shrill scream came from the street in the wealthy area, and a policeman on a bicycle galloped past, "Self-defense... all the English people defend themselves... the Irish are rioting!"
"The Young Ireland Party has organized another riot...all the people of England must defend themselves!"
This time it was a disaster. The women screamed so hard that the glass windows almost shattered. The men were frightened and opened the cupboards one after another and took out their family's treasured shotguns.
The British have imposed an arms embargo on the Irish, but they will never prohibit their own people from owning weapons. On the contrary, in order to better rule this land, they are even encouraging these British people to keep weapons.
Men wearing pajamas and ridiculous woolen hats, armed with murderous weapons, shouted, "Lock the doors and ask your son to use boards to block all the doors and windows. Don't go out until I come back!"
"It's time to let these damn Irish people know how powerful they are. Kill all the thugs! Take to the streets..."
The doors of countless buildings in the wealthy area were opened, and the murderous Englishmen began to gather on the street. Their eyes were red and their ears were filled with the sound of distant wind, crackling flames, and the roar of the Irish.
At this moment, the entire city of Dublin, centered on the port, has already alerted half the people in the city. Many Irish people who are far away from the conflict have no idea what is happening.
They poked their heads out in large numbers, and some of them boldly walked out of the door, and saw a group of British men wearing pajamas and holding weapons in front of them.
"God! What's going on..."
"Irish people, there are Irish people here..."
"Isn't this the shoemaker John from Notting Street? Hey... damn guy, are you going to rebel too..."
Before the shoemaker could answer, there was a crisp sound, a ball of flames flashed out from the English crowd, and a bullet directly exploded half of the shoemaker's head.
"You...how did you kill him?"
"Shut up! The whole city is in chaos now. Who has the time to identify thugs and civilians one by one? Every Irishman who takes to the streets is suspected of rioting!"
"Kill without mercy! Don't explain, kill without mercy..."
Crazy, these English people were completely crazy. A few rational people could not reverse the madness of the entire group. Soon the hunting operation of these British people turned into a violent massacre.
"March to the Customs House! Let these damn thugs go to hell..."
More than a hundred crazy Englishmen gathered on the street. They opened fire and hunted the fleeing Irish, and gradually approached the place where the fighting was fiercest.
Just as they were shooting recklessly at the Irish houses on both sides of the street, an unexpected situation occurred. The windows on the second floor along the street were suddenly smashed, and then flames came out from inside.
"Revenge! Kill all these British guys! Young Ireland Party...take action!"
Swish, swish... five or six bottles of alcohol rolled down from the second floor, bang, bang, bang... there was a crisp sound on the street, and flames began to flow along the gaps in the stone slabs. The first few Englishmen suddenly became burning people.
"Oh God! These Irish people actually set up an ambush... They actually know how to create *... How could they receive such military training..."
"Counterattack, fire, kill them..."
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