The Ancestral Legacy Begins in the Wild West

Chapter 157 The Man in the Iron Mask

Antoine withdrew his gaze, walked to Zhang Chang'an's cell, and stood still.

"Get up," he said, his voice flat.

Zhang Chang'an looked up at him, pondering, "Judging by the time, it's not the day of execution yet. There's no need to panic. If something's happened at this time, it must be related to what happened last night, right?"

He stuffed the last piece of jerky in his hand into his mouth, stood up, and patted the dust off his prison uniform.

Antoine said nothing more and turned to leave. At his prompting, Zhang Chang'an followed behind and walked out of the cell together.

On both sides of the corridor, prisoners in several cells were looking this way. And this was perfectly normal.

Just like Morel, Zhang Chang'an has had more and more prisoners he can talk to in the few days since he came in.

There's no other reason than that our ancestor's communication and social skills were simply too amazing. Now, when he speaks to people, he might be even more charming in French than in Chinese.

Besides, he has no shortage of supplies. Although many prisoners here are indeed not short of money, who can refuse to be friends with a rich, charming, and handsome Eastern man?

So at least on his own level, he was already very popular. As he was being led out, René stood at the door of his cell, gripping the iron bars with both hands, watching Zhang Chang'an pass by. His lips moved, but he ultimately remained silent.

Other prisoners peeked around, whispered among themselves, and one even mustered the courage to ask, "Sir, what's wrong with him?" but Antoine glared at him and shut him up.

Zhang Chang'an followed Antoine up the tower stairs.

Footsteps echoed on the stone steps. Antoine's attitude was indifferent, but after leading him halfway up the stairs, Antoine suddenly slowed down and turned his head to glance at Zhang Chang'an.

This place was far from the cell block, and his attitude had finally changed. Although he was still not enthusiastic at all, he was no longer stiff.

"I don't like outsiders," he said. "English, Italian, or Eastern, it's all the same."

At the same time, I don't like your arbitrary and reckless behavior. For me, prisoners like you are the most difficult to deal with.

.

Antoine paused. "But—I want to thank you. Whether it's because those men acted on their own, or because you saved Pierre."

Looking at his reaction, Zhang Chang'an felt that he had expected it.

Having acquired Zhang Lan's various skills, as well as the psychic profession, his control over people's hearts has become increasingly accurate.

Compared to his previous reckless behavior, he can now not only grab people's bodies and intentions, but also grasp their other thoughts: "That was my own decision, and it has little to do with them."

Compared to that, how about Pierre?

Antoine sighed: "There are still some fragments inside the body that haven't been expelled. But at least the vital organs are gone. He lost a lot of blood and was seriously injured, but at least he survived."

The guards pooled their money and sent him out to recuperate. It's hard to say what will happen next.

Zhang Chang'an nodded.

As the two talked, they continued uphill under Antoine's guidance.

Antoine walked ahead, his back appearing exceptionally broad in the narrow stairwell.

Upon reaching the next floor, Zhang Chang'an immediately noticed the difference in layout between this floor and the one below as he stepped out of the stairwell.

The corridor on this floor was narrower and darker, and the cell doors on both sides were heavy iron doors with only a small window open, clearly indicating a place of strict imprisonment.

There was a damp, rusty smell in the air, and considering the surrounding environment, it inexplicably didn't seem to be coming from rusty metal, but rather from the smell of blood.

Zhang Chang'an looked around thoughtfully, then spoke up, "Captain Antoine,"

He carefully chose his words before asking, "To be honest, your reputation among prisoners isn't very good."

Because I've heard that other towers are full of team leaders who like to take advantage of others or are very lax in their management. But you're not that kind of person. So the management is usually quite strict.

But precisely because of that, even if you don't know that Pierre has been saved, I believe you're not the kind of person who would lock us up and not let us out because of your own emotions.

Antoine listened to his words but did not respond immediately.

"So, the lockdown downstairs today wasn't your own idea, was it?"

Antoine stopped and looked back at him.

"You are indeed very intelligent," he said, his tone unreadable, neither praising nor expressing any other emotion. "Prisoners like you, even those facing the death penalty, are generally not imprisoned like this. Only special political prisoners and truly serious offenders on this floor are kept like this."

Zhang Chang'an had already noticed the anomaly on this floor.

He had already seen several of the people locked behind those iron gates through the small windows.

Many of the cells on this floor were empty, while the few that were occupied were mostly well-dressed but had serious expressions, looking like revolutionaries.

There were also a few unfamiliar faces with fierce, even burly, eyes and scars on their bodies; they were clearly not good people.

However—Antoine's words may not be correct.

Zhang Chang'an knew in his heart that although many of the prisoners here looked intimidating, when it came to the things they had done in the past, he had been an outlaw in London and led a group of people to storm a bunker in Kyoto, which was far more than most of them.

Of all these, only one truly caught his eye.

That was the last side cell at the end of the corridor.

The room was narrow, and even the iron door was smaller than the others. The iron bars on the small window were unusually thick. There didn't seem to be any proper windows inside either. It was very dark, and you could only vaguely see a figure leaning against the wall, motionless.

The person was wearing something on their face that reflected a faint light.

Zhang Chang'an glanced at the surrounding buildings, initially only getting a fleeting glimpse, but quickly realized what it was. He turned back and looked at it carefully, confirming that it was a thick, iron mask.

"The Man in the Iron Mask—?"

He recalled seeing information about the Bastille in the restored biographical footage before entering this instance.

The Man in the Iron Mask is a famous unsolved mystery in the Bastille and in history as a whole.

According to records, a hundred years ago, after 1690, the Bastille held a mysterious prisoner whose identity was unknown. He wore a heavy iron mask for the rest of his life after arriving there.

It is precisely because no one knows who he is that his identity is so noteworthy.

One widely circulated story is that the great French writer Alexandre Dumas said in his novel that he was Louis XIV's brother, and was imprisoned because his existence was a scandal to the royal family.

And the person in front of me must be the man in the iron mask.

Historical records indicate that he died long ago, but in this timeline, he is still alive and imprisoned in the deepest part of the Bastille.

"So—it's another timeline anomaly?"

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