The Ancestral Legacy Begins in the Wild West

"Huh?" Zhang Chang'an was stunned upon hearing this.

"You have discovered a secret of history."

Oliver Trist, an orphan from the foggy city of London, whose mother died and whose identity remains a mystery, grew up in a workhouse outside London, moving between coffin shops and gangs of thieves. He is, in later generations, a character created by Charles Dickens.

You meet him on the streets of London, and you realize that Charles Dickens's realistic books may indeed be depicting reality.

"Time-space fragments +300".

"WTF..." Zhang Chang'an was frozen in place by this outrageous information, his brain momentarily shutting down: "Oliver Twist from the 'Oliver Twist' movie that we were required to read in our textbooks when we were kids?"

He looked at the boy, whose age and appearance matched his imagination perfectly, and another obvious fact about the time-space rift was revealed.

After all, it's a hidden history, a distorted timeline. On these unusual timelines, supernatural beings like the Mississippi Fishmen might exist, and the events in the books are certainly not just stories.

"Sir, do you know me?"

Oliver, holding his umbrella, calmly spoke.

Zhang Chang'an's thoughts finally snapped out of their reverie, and he immediately shook his head: "I don't know him."

To everyone's surprise, Oliver immediately nodded: "You shouldn't know us. From the time you arrived in London until now, there shouldn't be any channel through which you would have learned about us."

Zhang Chang'an tilted his head, immediately sensing the peculiar meaning in Oliver's words: "What do you mean by that? Do you know me?"

Oliver Tracy, as his family tree summarizes, was a London orphan who had worked hard and been a juvenile thief.

But even when he finally found out about his past, he was still just a kind and determined young man.

His thieving skills weren't outstanding; he was at most more mature than the average child. But looking at the boy in front of him, Zhang Chang'an felt that he wasn't that simple.

Oliver looked up at him, then immediately nodded: "Zhang Yongren, a man from the far east. Our capabilities are indeed limited, but you are one of the people we should pay attention to."

Zhang Chang'an listened to his words and silently looked up.

At the entrance of the building, the two boys, one big and one small, finally ran back.

As soon as they saw Oliver standing there, they immediately lowered their heads as if they had done something wrong.

However, they didn't say a word, but simply took out the money, handed it to Oliver, and quickly turned and ran into the building.

"Are you gathering intelligence?" Zhang Chang'an looked at Oliver and the children who seemed to obey him, and suddenly realized something.

Oliver nodded and handed his change back: "You haven't been in London long, have you? But you should have heard of workhouses to some extent."

I grew up there, and I suffered a lot before I was lucky enough to find my family, a family that was relatively well-off.

Zhang Chang'an had read the book, so of course he knew these things, and he also knew what the poorhouse was.

As the name suggests, it is meant to relieve the poor. However, the name sounds nice, but the essence of this facility is a disguised prison that gathers the poor together and forces them to work.

Victorian England had a large number of such facilities. Due to their zoning and separate management structures, they did indeed perform some of the functions of nursing homes or orphanages.

But the so-called effect is basically just turning children from freezing to death on the street into starving or exhausted to death in their own yards.

"If I'm not mistaken, this should also be a workhouse," Zhang Chang'an pondered, turning to look at the surrounding buildings.

Oliver nodded: "It was poorly managed and went bankrupt, so I spent some money to take it over so that these kids could continue to live here."

When this child said these words, his maturity level instantly increased several notches.

"You know, businessmen can abandon this place and move on to other businesses, but the children always need someone to take care of them." Oliver waved his hand.

"My wealth is insufficient to support all the children here, so I can only help them find some means of livelihood. In this rapidly developing era, London still offers many jobs."

For example, selling newspapers or washing dishes—of course, that's not enough, so I can only try to let the children utilize their strengths. Like you said, gathering intelligence.

Homeless children can be found on any street in London, so you can see anything.

Hearing this, Zhang Chang'an was already quite shocked: "Good heavens, Oliver, the leader of the London Kids Gang. This version is too wild."

He finally understood what Oliver meant earlier: "That's why you all understand me."

Oliver nodded: "The murderer you dealt with before you joined Louis Chen's company killed the father of one of the children here. They were just about to meet and recognize each other the other day."

Not all the children here know you, but those who do are generally very grateful to you. So those two children from earlier might be in for a rough time.

Zhang Chang'an never expected that what he had done would have such an impact.

But that's all in the past. The important thing is what these people can still bring him.

Oliver was indeed a smart kid. Before Zhang Chang'an could even ask, he said directly, "I think you should be interested in the Italian you're investigating."

"But I'm sorry, he really rarely appears, and these kids haven't seen him much either. The last time was a week ago. It's even less reliable than your company's internal investigation."

Hearing this, Zhang Chang'an was not angry at all. He simply nodded calmly and said, "It's okay, it's not important. It's good to have met you all as friends."

I'm not the kind of person who would donate large sums of money for no reason, nor am I particularly kind, but you know what I need. If I get the information I need, I'd be happy to pay you more.

………………

"Ding—" The door bell at Chamberlain's Arms Workshop suddenly rang.

Perhaps it was so that these employees could hear the sound of customers entering the store, even amidst the internal mechanical noise.

The sound of this bell is always very loud.

Amin was startled.

"Oh, Mr. Lu? You've arrived." He took off his mechanical work glasses and looked up to see Zhang Chang'an walking into the store.

"How come you...returned so quickly?" He really wasn't very good at business, asking a customer such a question: "Did it need maintenance...run out of bullets, or is the gun broken?"

Zhang Chang'an didn't dislike his personality. After closing the door, he immediately looked at the numerous pieces of equipment in the store: "No, we're here for an upgrade today."