The Ancestral Legacy Begins in the Wild West

"The boss puts money into Scotland Yard every week, but you just messed with those foreigners, so you still have to be careful."

Zhang Chang'an was brought back by Zheng Kui and his men, who naturally knew about his conflict with the Scotland Yard officers.

A penniless and powerless Asian illegal worker suddenly transforms into a legitimate company employee, which could indeed make him a target for petty and narrow-minded foreigners.

The equipment Zhang Chang'an was holding was lent to him by Zheng Kui just now, so he naturally knew about it.

But Zhang Chang'an's movements were very small, and there was a thick coat between them, which was not something that just anyone could see through.

Zheng Kui did not explain his keen eye, but instead stated:

"I felt the same way when I first arrived. I had heard on the way that these foreigners' stuff was amazing, but when I actually saw it, I was still amazed."

As he spoke, he adjusted his hat and looked at the roadside: "Like these lights, wouldn't it be wonderful if we had these things back home?"

What he said was also what Zhang Chang'an was most concerned about right now: "Steam technology and other scientific marvels are another major category in the heritage exchange page."

The one he lent me is even better than the brass knuckles from the Pinkerton Detective Agency I'd seen before. And there's the Scotland Yard's steam locomotive and batons with mechanical mechanisms…”

The world within this spacetime rift is truly magical. Just as Zheng Kui said, even the streetlights are extraordinary. Underneath each lamppost, there are interconnected pipes, and the fuel is automatically supplied and replenished.

"Steam technology, and this fellow countryman, whether it's things or people, the stuff in the rift is really something else."

Zhang Chang'an pondered for a moment, his eyes suddenly turning serious, and he decisively put the brass knuckles on his hands.

Because Zheng Kui stopped chatting, his expression changed as he walked with the people around him, clearly indicating that he had discovered something.

Everyone's attention immediately turned to the riverbank.

The Thames River was the most important driving force of the huge and complex machine of industrial-age London.

On the wide, interconnected waterways of the river, countless powerful steamships, pulling massive cargo ships and large crates of goods, spewed black smoke as they crisscrossed the waterway.

The entire river was filled with the hum of steam turbines and the roar of boilers. Where there were no steamships, small boats like dugout canoes mostly floated on the water.

Of course, precisely because it is so busy, this river is particularly polluted.

While Zhang Chang'an kept his eyes open and looked around, he had to hold his breath slightly and endure the pungent fishy smell.

Before he could even adjust, or perhaps he actually saw something, the footsteps of the people around him suddenly quickened.

On the offshore boardwalk just in front of them, a white man in a white shirt and brown vest had just turned his gaze away from them.

He turned around, shoved aside a laborer in front of him, and rushed towards the riverbank as if fleeing.

"Don't run!" Zheng Kui shouted, and everyone, having confirmed their target, gave chase.

At the end of the pier stood several white men dressed in tailored shirts and suits, wearing wide-brimmed hats and cross chains.

Behind them was a rather exquisite medium-sized steamship.

The ship's exterior has many impressive-looking exposed mechanical structures and metal pipes, clearly making it much more advanced than a typical steamship, but it has no cargo boxes and not much cargo on the deck.

At this moment, the engine on the side of the ship had already started turning, and black smoke was being emitted from the metal pipes, clearly indicating that it had begun to leave the port.

The Italian in the brown vest, panting heavily, then climbed onto the boat.

Fortunately, Zhang Chang'an and his team discovered it in time and had already caught up with the group to the edge of the boardwalk off the shore.

But he was still a step too slow, and besides, he said, "You idiot Chinaman! Ma che cazzo vuoi (What the hell do you want?)!"

The group of white men in flamboyant black trench coats had already arrived in front of them, trying to stop them.

Zhang Chang'an recalled Zheng Kui's earlier instructions to them:

"Foreigners' attire is nothing more than a few things: suits, trench coats, black hats—anyone could wear those. But if they're wearing chains and sunglasses, they're definitely pretentious Italians."

These people were dressed meticulously and elaborately, and some of them were even wearing sunglasses. They were clearly members of the so-called Italian mafia.

However, this matter was too urgent, and there was no time for them to hesitate.

Zheng Kui decisively gave a wink to the side, and his deputy, Xiong, a mute man from southern Fujian with a scar on his face, turned his body to face the group.

This was a burly man as strong as a bear. He rushed out a few steps and, just before some of the Italians could draw their weapons, tackled them with a "bang."

The Italian dialect filled the air, and the one or two remaining on the shore were no threat at all.

Unfortunately, by this time, the steamship had already sailed a little further away.

Therefore, after reaching the shore, "whoosh!" A large cloud of sand flew out and fell into the river. The brothers in the company braked the car. No one rushed into the river, but they could only watch as the steamship slowly merged into the channel, about eight or nine meters from the shore.

The only variable now is that this distance may not be enough to stop everyone.

"Whoosh!" Zheng Kui leaped lightly from the bank, actually crossing a large section of the river, tumbled once, and landed on the deck of the steamship.

After he got up, he subconsciously checked the situation on the shore. Some of his brothers were watching this side, while others were confronting the Italians on the shore. The argument was extremely noisy.

However, after only glancing at it once or twice, his gaze shifted elsewhere.

This wasn't because he wanted to find his target quickly, but because he noticed that one of the people on the shore was missing.

"Click!"

A hand wearing mechanical metal brass knuckles clung to the edge of the boat.

Zhang Chang'an nimbly flipped over and also landed on the deck.

Zheng Kui looked at him with considerable surprise.

Right behind Zhang Chang'an, to the side and rear of the steamship, a canoe, which was responsible for guiding the ship away from the port, along with the foreigners on board, was rocking violently and almost capsized completely.

Zhang Chang'an had only been practicing his body-cultivating exercises for a short time, but his physical fitness was already at the level of a slightly skilled athlete. It was not easy for him to leap eight or nine meters into the air and land on a moving target.

But stepping across a canoe and then jumping onto the edge of the motorboat, which isn't very high, isn't difficult at all.

Ignoring the curses and shouts of the foreigners in the canoe, Zhang Chang'an turned to Zheng Kui and asked, "Where's the person we're supposed to arrest?"

"That thing wasn't lent to you for nothing." Zheng Kui expressed his appreciation, but then sighed with a hint of helplessness.

"I was in a rush and didn't have time to say it. It's best to handle this on the shore. If this guy gets ashore, then this matter will be..."

"Click-clack..." The sound of the two-stage hammer pulling down came from behind them.

"Chinese guys, you can jump in and swim back to shore now, and we'll pretend this never happened. You have no idea what you're doing."

A voice speaking English with an Italian accent came from behind, and an Italian man wearing a fine wool suit and a scarf walked out of the cabin.

The hammer sound just now came from the revolver in his hand.

The double-action, large-caliber gun's dark muzzle was pointed directly at Zheng Kui.