Dhaka, shrouded in darkness, seemed to have become a purgatory on earth.
In the courtyards of those nobles, bursts of screams came out.
Returning the family's home is more than just showing off. What they need is revenge.
Only killing, raping, and robbing can quell the resentment they have accumulated over the years.
Hassan took his cronies back to the place where he was born and grew up.
But nothing here belongs to him. What is left to him here are more tragic past events and humiliating memories.
Most of the Bengali nobles were unable to leave the city.
In order to enable the Bengalis in the city to actively participate in the city defense war.
From the beginning, the colonial authorities prevented these Bengalis from escaping from the city.
They only moved some of the British expatriates. Others were asked to live normally in the city.
Hilton hopes these Bengalis can have the confidence to live and die with the city.
If they were allowed to escape from the beginning, and people would be distracted, who would assist in the defensive operations?
In the afternoon, when they received news of the city's destruction and were about to leave the city, the city gate was already blocked by the Holy Army.
In desperation, these people could only hide in their homes and wait for the British to open the passage.
Hassan's original owner's family is now hiding at home in fear. They are hoping that someone can come and take them out of the city.
The master usually has good relations with many British officers. He has sent several domestic slaves to find out the news.
"Sir, it was Hassan who came back with someone, and he asked us to open the door." A nurse ran over and reported.
"What, it's Hassan. I'm scared to death. Take me there quickly. Hassan is a soldier now. He should be able to take us out." The master said.
A group of people came to the inside of the gate.
The noble lord saw the excrement-picking slave in his old family.
That is the lowest form of servant.
This may be the first time that the noble gentleman looks at Hassan.
The young man's body was covered with blood, and now he had a bright revolver in his hand.
This gun was Colonel Sparrow's sidearm. It was a revolver with an ivory grip. It was originally intended to be given to its new owner, but the new owner generously gave it to him.
"Hassan, are you here to rescue us?"
"You have done a good job, Hassan. From now on, you will be the guard leader of the manor, and your mother and brothers and sisters will be able to live a good life." A kind smile appeared on the noble man's face.
The noble young master on the side looked at Hassan coldly without any pretense.
Hassan felt disgusted by this artificial performance.
It's like the feeling when he takes out shit.
He had long vowed to drown the noble master and his family in a cesspool.
"Yes, sir, please open the door and I will take you out." A smile appeared on Hassan's blood-stained face. This was spattered on his face when he shot the British at close range.
With a creak, the courtyard door really opened.
The other party was just the lowest servant, and now I promoted him to the highest class servant by jumping several levels.
In the noble man's opinion, this should be enough to make the other party burst into tears of gratitude.
Therefore, he did not hesitate to have the door opened.
In other words, if he doesn't open the door now, such a simple door can't stop Hassan and the others.
Hassan's gun suddenly pointed forward.
He was not preparing to shoot, but was signaling for his men to rush in.
Seeing Hassan's sudden change of expression, the noble man quickly asked his guards to resist him.
But Hassan's men knocked down all these guards with just a burst of gunfire.
Although Hassan's men are weak in combat effectiveness, they are more than enough to deal with these servants guarding the courtyard.
Moreover, most of the servants and guards in the courtyard have now been conscripted by the British to the west gate to be used as cannon fodder.
"Hassan, what are you going to do? Do you want to commit the crime?" The noble man regretted it now. He should have arrested Hassan's family just now, maybe he could coerce Hassan.
"Haha, please call me General Hassan now. I am the general of the Taiping Holy Army. You, a lowly Bengali, deserve to call me by my name."
Hassan laughed and said.
After saying that, he raised his gun and knocked down the aristocratic young man in a decent suit with one shot.
"No, no, Hassan, I will give you whatever you want." the noble man roared.
"Oh, no, you damned low-class person, you must die a good death!" Seeing his son being killed, the aristocratic man cursed loudly.
For some reason, the more the noble man shouted hysterically, the more Hassan's heart became excited.
One of his men was ready to silence the noble lord. In their view, Hassan was the leader sent to them by Allah.
How can you give these noble gentlemen casual insults?
"It doesn't matter, you don't have to gag him, just let him scream. Go and gather all the people in this manor. Search out all the valuable things." Hassan ordered.
Then he glanced at the Holy Army soldiers following him.
The Holy Army soldiers had expressionless faces and didn't care at all about what Hassan did.
They followed behind to supervise these people's collection of property.
Hassan's men were divided into small teams, all accompanied by the soldiers of the Holy Army, and went to his familiar noble mansion to ransack the homes.
The Holy Army only wants property. As for whether these people want to take revenge or seize the noble master's daughter, the Holy Army doesn't care.
Hassan took the people to a corner of the courtyard, where there was a wooden shed, right next to the cesspit.
That's Hassan's home, where he grew up.
Hassan's mother, a brother, and two sisters live here.
"Hassan, is that you?" Hassan's mother asked as if she heard her son's voice.
It was already dark, and there were no lights in Hassan's home.
So Hassan's mother couldn't see the person coming.
"Mom, it's me, I'm Hassan."
Hassan quickly asked someone to hand over a torch.
Inside the wooden shed there was only a bed made of wooden boards. Sitting on the bed was an old woman wearing brown linen clothes.
In fact, she is less than forty years old. But the harsh living environment left too many marks on her face.
The light from the torch came in, and the old woman couldn't help but block the light with her palm. She didn't take her hand away until her eyes had adapted to the light.
"Hassan, didn't you go to fight?" Mother asked.
"Well, yes, mom, now I am a general, I am here to pick you up and live a good life together." Hassan said with a smile.
…
Hassan had his mother and younger siblings resettled. He was not prepared to let them see what happened next.
After a while, the noble master, his family and other slaves were escorted over.
The master's wife is almost fifty years old, but why does this woman look younger than his mother?
"Rob, this fat woman is a reward for you." Hassan looked at a tall, dark and strong subordinate behind him, but with a dull expression on his face.
This one is also a lowly domestic slave.
Hearing Hassan's words, Rob smiled. Although this woman looked a bit older, she was fair and fat, with heavy makeup on her face and fine silk on her body.
Rob could smell the perfume emanating from her body from a distance.
"Thank you, General." Rob smiled, showing his yellow teeth, and there was a line of saliva hanging from the beard at the corner of his mouth.
"No, you can't do that, you dirty bastard."
"Ah, don't..." With a scream, Rob carried the old woman and walked towards the dark corner.
"Hurry up, Rob." The people next to him shouted, with a look of envy in their eyes.
"Now it's your turn, my dear eldest lady, you may not even know me! Because I am just the meanest excrement slave in this courtyard. How can a noble lady like you look at us? I usually don't know who I am.
I don't even have a chance to get close to you." Hassan looked at the daughter of his aristocratic grandfather's family. It is said that she is about to marry a British officer.
This Bangladeshi girl always paints her face white as if she is a white lady.
"Now, I'll give you a chance, marry me, and you can live." Hassan looked at the noble lady and said.
"You despicable low-class person, I will never marry you even if I die. Your body smells like a latrine." This noble lady was very tough.
"Well, that's a shame."
As he said that, Hassan looked at the men beside him and said, "Don't look at it, she belongs to you. Come one by one, don't go together, there are so many people who need to be looked after," Hassan said.
The men next to him all looked excited.
"I curse you, you inferior human being."
"Oh, no, let me go."
At this time, the aristocratic grandpa had stopped screaming, and his heart seemed to have died.
"Okay, my dear master, let me take you on your way." After Hassan finished speaking, he ordered the master to be thrown into the pit.
His father drowned here.
He would feel nauseous and uncomfortable every day when he was digging out excrement. It would be very painful if he drowned in this cesspit.
Thinking of his father, Hassan's face suddenly became determined.
At first, the noble man struggled a few times, but soon his fat body could no longer hold up and he sank.
Several big bubbles appeared in the yellow-black fecal water.
"Oh, I forgot about the butler." Hassan said and looked at the thin butler who was kneeling and wearing a black round hat.
The butler, Jian Hassan, looked at him and immediately trembled like chaff. Under the light of the torch, his crotch was already wet.
"Aren't you the most loyal servant of the master? I should send you to accompany the master."
After saying that, Hassan ordered someone to push the housekeeper into the manure pit, and then sent two gardeners over.
These two were the two gardeners who refused to save him.
"Lord Hassan, we are willing to be your slaves and serve you and your family for generations. We swear to Allah that we will always be loyal to you." The remaining slaves had long been scared out of their wits.
Fortunately, Hassan really kept them and did not drive them all away.
And those maids also became the wives of Hassan's men.
Now everyone is more motivated.
Ximen, Guo Xing's blocking position.
I don't know how many British troops are rushing here in the darkness, including General Hilton, the supreme commander of Dhaka City.
Behind these British troops were the Holy Army in hot pursuit.
The bloody battle will begin again.
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