The Ancestral Legacy Begins in the Wild West

"Mr. Jean-Glaucon? I really didn't know you personally escorted this ship." Zheng Kui adjusted his hat and actually greeted the man opposite him.

The Italian man with a white scarf, deep-set eyes, and a high nose clearly showed no appreciation: "Zheng, you know I haven't changed my surname. Also, regardless of whether we've met before or not, I'll repeat myself once: now, get off this ship."

Zhang Chang'an stood to the side, just like the Italian gangsters who came out of the cabin behind Mr. Jean-Glaucon, without saying a word.

Is he afraid of guns? Even if he trains his body to its limit, he might not be able to withstand bullets. He hasn't been training for very long, so of course he's afraid.

But none of his superiors panicked, so why should he?

"Vito, I know you have your own mission, but I'm here on a mission too. Did you know that your men were secretly shoving people onto your ship? Hand them over, and I'll leave immediately."

Zheng Kui stood still and calmly continued speaking.

Vito, gripping his gun, frowned and turned to look at his men behind him. The other Italian made no attempt to hide his identity, simply lowering his head silently.

Vito gritted his teeth, turned around, and said, "Sicilians don't abandon their families. Even if they were to take someone, it would definitely be one of our own. Dealing with subordinates is a family matter. It's none of your business."

The most famous Sicilian mafia in Italy is undoubtedly the Mafia, which was prominent in New York and other parts of the United States in the mid-20th century.

However, their large-scale global activity began much earlier, encompassing London during that period. The composition and characteristics were similar: a family-based structure, mutual support, and protection of each other.

"This is..." After all, they were in a foreign country, and their hometown dialect was the best encrypted communication, so Zhang Chang'an asked in Cantonese without any restraint.

Zheng Kui showed no intention of leaving. Instead, he calmly answered his question: "The Jean-Glaucon family is the largest Italian mafia in London. He is the adopted godson of the family boss and a popular successor."

We weren't close, but our company wasn't exactly small-time, so I knew him, and he knew me.

"Then we..." Zhang Chang'an knew that the situation was unusual.

Before he could finish his question, Zheng Kui interrupted, "I've been wanting to ask this before, do you have a background in Hung Kuen?"

Zhang Chang'an nodded without hesitation.

This is not hard to see, because although there are many styles of Hung Kuen, they are all distinctive, characterized by hard-hitting, powerful, and expansive movements.

Aside from the movements he made when he beat the murderer, the way he jumped on the swaying canoe just now was something only someone with a foundation in Southern Fist could do.

Zheng Kui saw both of them, so it's normal that he guessed this.

So he continued, "Alright, boss, I'll take you under my wing. I need to explain the key points of our line of work to you."

Maintaining a calm demeanor is one key aspect; it's essential to effectively deter those in debt.

By this time, the boats had slowly sailed away and gradually merged into the main channel. Vito had lost even more patience. Without uttering a word, he stepped forward and was about to fire his gun.

Zheng Kui calmly added the second half of the sentence: "But if you want to collect money without lifting a finger most of the time, you absolutely can't be soft-hearted when it matters!"

"Whoosh!" With a whooshing sound, Zheng Kui suddenly lowered his body, took only one step on the deck, and then suddenly darted out.

"Bang!" Vito's revolver suddenly spat out a huge tongue of fire. The bullets grazed the ship's deck but didn't hit anything, flying directly into the surrounding night sky.

The gunshots and flashes of light drew the attention of countless boats in the vicinity, causing numerous vessels of all sizes to hastily veer away from them, instantly creating a commotion on the river.

On the ship, Zheng Kui appeared in front of Vito in the blink of an eye. He grabbed Vito's right hand that was holding the gun with one hand, and with the other hand, he clenched his fist and punched Vito directly in the abdomen.

"Bang!"

Vito cursed angrily in Italian, and at the same time, he bent over instantly due to the excruciating pain in his abdomen.

Taking advantage of the opportunity, Zheng Kui slid to the side and kicked another man in the abdomen. The seemingly burly foreigner was sent flying backward and crashed into the cargo box, whereupon he fell silent.

Vito was clearly no pushover. He took a punch to the stomach but didn't fall. He threw his gun aside, rushed forward a few steps, grabbed Zheng Kui, and flipped him over.

Heat rose from the fine wool suit, accompanied by a strange metallic mechanical sound.

"Bang!" Zheng Kui was grabbed by both hands and pushed against the steamship's superstructure, his back slamming hard against the steel wall.

Meanwhile, the other Italians, seeing the two locked in a stalemate, hadn't even reacted when a figure suddenly appeared in front of them.

"Crack, crack, crack..." The sound of springs and mechanical devices compressing potential energy rang out. Zhang Chang'an clenched his fists tightly, charging his brass knuckles, and then slid to the two of them, landing firmly in a horse stance.

"Whoosh!" Two gusts of wind sounded almost simultaneously as two punches were delivered smoothly, one above the other.

The Gongzi Fuhu Fist, the Vajra Pestle Reversal.

"Bang!" The two men didn't even have a chance to back away before they were each punched. The punch landed on their chins and livers, and they immediately lost consciousness, their bodies collapsing to the ground with a thud.

Zhang Chang'an didn't stop at all. He turned around on the spot and found himself facing several foreigners who had already grabbed their weapons.

"They really think highly of me!" Zhang Chang'an gritted his teeth and lowered his stance.

Zheng Kui's words were indeed quite inspiring, but the current situation is not something he can easily handle.

Zheng Kui responsibly chose the leader of the opposing team, but the rest were all aiming for Zhang Chang'an.

"Buzz... Crack!" A long, black metal rod emitted various metallic clanging sounds, trailing a wisp of black smoke as it swept across Zhang Chang'an's location.

"Clang!" In an instant, a notch was punched into the metal railing, which was about the thickness of a calf, on the edge of the ship.

Zhang Chang'an sidestepped and lowered his body, barely dodging the attack, but he was indeed quite frightened by its power.

Looking up, I saw five or six foreigners in front of me, all of them holding sticks, brass knuckles or similar equipment, and some of them even had black smoke coming out of their clothes.

No wonder Vito could casually throw his gun away without using it; these guys had the guts to do smuggling, so they were certainly well-equipped with firepower.

However, Zhang Chang'an took a deep breath and reacted immediately after dodging the attack.

His left hand, with its four fingers together, slid sideways beside the foreigner's hand that had pulled back the stick.

He then slightly deflected his arm and threw a straight punch.

This guy was clearly wary of the close-combat skills he had just displayed, and decisively swung his stick to try and force him back.

But Zhang Chang'an simply turned his head slightly, and immediately withdrew his fist, instead sticking out his elbow.

Tiger and crane in pairs, dragon swaying as they search for the cave.

The foreigner's stick missed its mark, and he was instantly hit in the face with a flick of his elbow.

"Bang!" The man stumbled backward, but another foreigner immediately threw a punch at him.

He was wearing buzzing brass knuckles, clearly the same equipment as Zhang Chang'an.

To everyone's surprise, Zhang Chang'an had just fought off one person when he immediately turned around and faced him, grabbing his wrist and pulling him sharply to the side.

The powerful force emanating from the brass knuckles in his hand immediately caused him to lose his balance and fall forward.

Zhang Chang'an immediately clenched his other hand and pressed it hard on his shoulder.

"drink!"

"Click-clack..."

"what!"

Tiger and crane in dual form, entwined wrists and shoulders.

Zhang Chang'an, pressing firmly on the foreigner's shoulder, swayed precariously as if about to collapse at any moment. He slightly adjusted his pace and simultaneously cast a piercing glance at the others:

"Well, there's always a day when you can put your skills to use. After training for so long, I can finally give it a proper shot."