The Ancestral Legacy Begins in the Wild West

"Bang!" A thug who was about to pick up a gun was knocked to the ground by him as soon as he raised his hand, and was also pinned down by him to cushion the impact of the fall.

Zhang Chang'an had just landed firmly on the ground when he immediately raised his hand and stood up.

"Crack crack..." Zhang Chang'an's right hand directly grabbed the arm of a thug behind him, twisted it with a backhand, and the thug was in so much pain that he turned slightly to the side. His heavy left fist followed up.

"Bang...bang!" Zhang Chang'an punched him in the abdomen, and the man bent over in pain. Zhang Chang'an immediately raised his knee and hit him directly in the face.

A few drops of blood splattered, the man's gums bled, his nose bridge broke, and he fell backward. As soon as he tilted his head back, he lost all strength and collapsed motionless by the window.

Upon seeing this, Zhang Chang'an immediately slid around, turned his back to the rear door, and leaned against it.

In front of them, several thugs had already put out the fire. Although many of their brothers had fallen, they were still not giving up.

Seeing the surroundings, his pupils trembled, his jaw clenched, and he didn't know whether he was more angry or more fearful, but in the end he still charged forward.

Zhang Chang'an braced his heels against the wall of the carriage, moved his hands, and looked at the three or four people in front of him, preparing to reach out and pull out his bayonet.

Who knew that the moment his hand was extended, his instincts instantly pulled it away from his intended path.

"Crack!" A sudden cracking sound came from behind.

Zhang Chang'an raised his right hand in a hurry and blocked a slap that was about to hit his neck.

"Crack!" A strange, immense force came from that palm, and Zhang Chang'an was pulled and slammed against the back wall.

Then, just as he turned his head to look behind him, a large section of the wall broke down, and the connection to the carriage door could no longer be maintained.

"Whoosh!" The surging night wind rushed into the carriage and into Zhang Chang'an's ears.

The damaged carriage door fell straight down, and Zhang Chang'an was pulled out of the carriage along with it.

Behind them was a warehouse consisting of only a single-story wooden plank floor, without walls or a roof. Countless goods were tied up in the open air, and the night wind naturally made it extremely noisy.

The raging wind silenced all other sounds in his ears.

Inside the carriage, the thug's screams and curses, along with his constantly adjusted breathing, seemed to be carried away by the wind.

This instantly brought his senses together, focusing all his attention on what he saw and the reaction he was about to make.

"Hoo!" Zhang Chang'an exhaled rapidly in the air.

Just as he had expected, he was grabbed and flung into the air, not only pulled out of the carriage but also thrown further outside.

The scene in his eyes had only spun halfway when the large hand gripping his arm released its hold. He was thrown off and was about to fall out of the car.

"Snap!" But Zhang Chang'an was prepared and in the blink of an eye, he reached out and grabbed the edge of a huge cargo box behind him.

At first, his left hand was a little unsteady, and his fingers slid slowly on the wooden box, but the grip strength quickly came in, and his left hand crushed the wooden board in an instant, thus completely grabbing the box.

"Wow, this is even more amazing than I imagined." Standing in front of him was a blond foreigner with a rather mocking expression, his feet planted on the broken carriage door.

This was the leader of this gang of thugs, a certain leader of the Blood Sand Company.

He was pale, with very classical features: upturned eyebrows, a bristling beard, and glaring eyes, looking fierce and menacing. His attire was also quite ordinary, except for his right hand, which had its sleeve rolled up, making it look rather strange.

On his exposed hand was a strange emblem, only half of it, consisting of a half-circle and lines connecting the inside.

The key point is the condition of that hand. The entire hand is completely bloodless, yet the veins are bulging, and it's extremely swollen. It's a whole size larger than his left hand, no wonder he's incredibly strong.

"But you've stolen from the wrong person!" The foreigner in front of him gritted his teeth, and the veins on the right side of his face immediately bulged like on his arm. Especially his temple, which was extremely prominent.

Zhang Chang'an, who landed on an open space in the warehouse behind the wooden crates, immediately frowned and gritted his teeth.

Dark clouds still blanketed the sky over London, and a flock of crows, startled from somewhere, suddenly formed strange characters.

"You have discovered the secret of history."

In the 19th century, while the Industrial Revolution was in full swing, old cultures were not completely abandoned, and the occult flourished. Besides divination and tarot, the most common practice was pagan worship…

"call!"

Before Zhang Chang'an could finish reading, or even see how many spacetime fragments had been awarded, he heard the sound of wind breaking through the air.

His hunting senses made him exceptionally perceptive in critical moments, so he reacted immediately.

"Crack crack..." Zhang Chang'an suddenly clenched his right fist, his index and middle fingers bent but protruding from the other fingers, pressed down by his thumb.

The phoenix-eye hammer slammed out instantly, striking the inside of the arm that had suddenly appeared in front of him.

"Bang!"

"Ah!" the blond foreigner cried out in pain, his arm turning slightly to the side.

"Chinese Kung Fu?" But the next moment, a fierce glint appeared in his eyes again: "Too bad it won't work on me!"

As he spoke, he slightly withdrew his right hand, and then immediately struck out again.

Zhang Chang'an instantly raised his left hand and simultaneously reached out his right hand to block it.

"Bang!" He took the heavy punch from the foreigner with his bare hands, his feet shifted slightly, but his face was already extremely pale.

The foreigner's arm strength was indeed astonishing, reminding Zhang Chang'an of the steam-powered equipment used by Italians on steamships.

This person, with his mortal body, actually possesses such power.

"Secret religion power?" Zhang Chang'an pondered the content he hadn't fully read earlier. It was nothing more than this person's power having a special source, related to Western ghosts or evil magic.

"No wonder he's not afraid of grappling at all." Zhang Chang'an had just struck the inside of his wrist, a place with many blood vessels, where even pressing on it would cause excruciating pain, let alone striking with the tip of a knuckle.

This foreigner isn't even afraid of this; he's really hard to deal with.

"Hoo!" Zhang Chang'an pondered, lowered his body, and mysteriously dodged the foreigner's sweeping punch.

The only good news is that this guy's arm isn't afraid of pain, but its movements are relatively sluggish.

Furthermore, the mutation on his body did not spread.

Zhang Chang'an lowered his stance, dodging the attack while simultaneously drawing a gleaming bayonet from his coat with his right hand.

"Pfft!" With his body bent low, he slashed the man's knee with his knife, tearing through the fabric and flesh, and the foreigner's right leg immediately began to bleed profusely.

However, the attack was rushed, and the train was still running on the tracks, swaying and wobbling, so Zhang Chang'an failed to strike his joint directly.

And just as Zhang Chang'an was about to take a half step back after the first stab and thrust the knife into the foreigner's abdomen, the huge arm was pulled in front of him again and slammed straight down.

"Phew..." Zhang Chang'an dodged to the side with a close call, only to have his left chin brushed.

However, the problem was that after dodging the attack, he took a step back and discovered that the rear half of the cargo hold was completely blocked by a huge wooden crate.

He had already retreated to the side of the box.

"Bang!" His heel slammed into the box.

"Whoa—" A commotion suddenly came from inside the box, and a long neigh of a horse came out through the box panels.

Zhang Chang'an shook his head helplessly: "At least, the target wasn't wrong."