The Ancestral Legacy Begins in the Wild West

"Amin is a good person to work with." Zhang Chang'an put on the black leather gloves that Amin had given him and quickly left Chamberlain's weapons workshop.

Amin is indeed a meticulous person, and Zhang Chang'an's visit seems to have broadened his horizons considerably.

Therefore, a robotic arm that is absolutely perfect among mechanical tools, and which is not necessarily something that no one would buy, plus a disassembled and resized impact drill that was placed inside the arm.

The two items, plus the very complicated work, only cost him fifty pounds in total.

These items, plus five tubes of regular whale oil and the included gloves, probably cost more than that. The gloves were basically hand-made from the prototype, which is quite a bargain.

"But my wallet is half empty now, so I need to get back to work quickly."

Zhang Chang'an took three steps at a time and quickly returned to the vicinity of the company.

With his new equipment, he's now full of energy.

As soon as he went up to the second floor, he immediately saw signs of a big order.

"Jean-Glaucon... no, Mr. Vito?" Zhang Chang'an looked at the person in front of him with considerable surprise and spoke directly.

The visitor sat on the public reception sofa on the second floor, still wearing an elegant fine wool suit and a scarf, but he had taken off his hat, so he didn't look particularly hostile.

"Mr. Yongren." Vito looked at him, but surprisingly, his reaction wasn't very strong.

The receptionist at the company next door was a rather shrewd-looking Chinese man. However, being an office worker, he was naturally a little intimidated by this kind of person.

Upon seeing that Zhang Chang'an actually knew Vito, he immediately gestured for him to sit down and chat with Vito while he went to prepare tea.

Zhang Chang'an remained calm, turning around and sitting opposite him. He said, "Our last meeting was so rushed that I didn't really have a proper chance to greet you. But it seems you already recognize me?"

Vito spoke English with a slight Italian accent, but not in a strong country way, and remained calm and elegant: "I didn't expect you to be a newcomer; that was your first job."

Hearing his words, Zhang Chang'an sensed a hint of resentment in them and immediately said, "Last time it was due to work commitments, I hope it didn't cause you too much trouble in the end."

Vito appeared quite magnanimous about this, saying, "I understand."

Zhang Chang'an then asked, "So, you've come here again for business? Are you looking for us?"

Vito remained calm in the face of his seemingly obvious question: "Of course, since you're here, you can do it for me directly."

As he spoke, he grabbed a document from the sofa next to him and handed it over.

Zhang Chang'an took the horse, looked it up and down, and immediately raised an eyebrow, revealing a rather surprised expression: "Your horse was stolen?"

It was fortunate that they were actually speaking English, otherwise Vito might not have been able to keep his composure after hearing Zhang Chang'an's words.

Of course, as harsh as it may be, this is indeed the current reality.

Vito calmly explained, "You haven't been involved in these things in London for long, so you might not know. Besides our freight business, our family's most frequent business is racetrack security."

London is full of wealthy people who love keeping racehorses that are more expensive than their weight in gold. This time, it was a member of parliament whose horse was stolen.

………………

As dusk settled.

"Woo..." The train slowly pulled into the station with its whistle, and the rising smoke, some black and some white, made the entire waiting hall quite hazy.

Zhang Chang'an raised his gloved left hand to press down on his hat to prevent it from being blown away by the wind, and then walked into the station in front of him.

By 1888, London's rail network was already highly developed. The railways extended in all directions, covering every nearby district and countless corners.

Even the earliest underground train lines have been in operation for 20 years.

This is true in the normal timeline without whale oil technology.

"No wonder it's so extravagantly built." The station in front of Zhang Chang'an is called King's Cross Station, located in the Ward of Camden in northwest Westminster and London.

The interior resembles a giant vegetable greenhouse, with plastic sheeting replaced by a glass dome skylight. However, from the entrance, it doesn't really look like a church or bell tower.

His current goal should be right here.

"That's quite a big order."

According to Vito's intelligence, what he needs this time is an Arabian horse.

These horses, whose names seem to have nothing to do with Europe, hold an extremely high status in the British horse racing world.

The so-called modern Thoroughbred horse's three ancestors were all Arabian horses. These horses are highly specialized in racing.

That's why the horse was so expensive; its owner, a member of parliament, offered a whopping £480 to retrieve it.

However, Vito said that the Jean-Glaucon family wasn't good at tracking and investigating, and the horse had been stolen before it was even handed over to them. So they actually didn't want to take it on, fearing they'd be blamed.

But the councilor didn't know who to turn to, so he asked them to help find someone to do it, and it ended up in Zhang Chang'an's hands.

In short, this is another rare large order.

For this reason, Zhang Chang'an made a special trip to see the young gentleman Oliver whom he had just met.

Then, they came here with new intelligence.

"One, two..." Zhang Chang'an walked on the platform and soon began to count the people in the crowd.

The target he's looking for isn't too easy to identify.

"Register everyone according to this list. No need to wait. There won't be anyone else here." A fierce-looking, bearded British man held up a list and made the ticket seller register it.

Around him, in an area, were quite a few fierce-looking thugs.

He was either smoking or staring intently at passersby.

Therefore, no one dared to walk across this small area.

"What a small world..." Zhang Chang'an knew the background of these people; they were from the Blood Sand Company, located in the Camden district.

Just like Zheng Kui said, these people really love to make money through shady means.

This group of men, led by the bearded Englishman, usually preferred to engage in petty theft.

That's why Oliver is quite familiar with them, after all, they used to be colleagues.

But precisely because they had mostly been petty thieves in the past, no one expected them to target the horse racing of the upper class.

Oliver's kids said that Camden had been unusually quiet these past two days, with few of them going out on the streets; they all seemed to be guarding their own strongholds.

Zhang Chang'an's question perfectly matched all of them.

When they arrived, sure enough, they had bought a freight car, and a large group of people had all boarded the train and were sitting in the passenger compartment in front of the freight car.

"Really..." A woman who was about to buy a ticket to take the train glanced at them standing by the window, turned around, and left the station.

This is precisely their purpose in making such a big fuss.

If no ordinary residents dare to buy tickets, there will be no threat at all.

Of course, Zhang Chang'an would not tolerate them.

The ticket clerk didn't dare to utter a sound. After filling in the information for their group, Zhang Chang'an brushed past their leader and walked to the ticket window.

Using his hunting senses, Zhang Chang'an could clearly feel that their leader had stopped, and all the underlings around him were now looking at him.

"Could you please buy me a ticket for the second carriage behind the front of the train?" Zhang Chang'an said with a smile.

The British man was standing behind him listening. After a moment of silence, he finally turned his head back.

The dozen or so thugs around him followed him and slowly boarded the train.