The Ancestral Legacy Begins in the Wild West

The nights in London were longer than Zhang Chang'an had imagined.

At least when he trudged through the dilapidated streets that seemed to be flooded every day and arrived at the edge of the Whitechapel district, there was no sign of dawn.

Having killed a serial killer on the street in the first half of the night and threatened a gang of smugglers of military-grade controlled items in the second half, Zhang Chang'an was truly exhausted, both physically and mentally.

He took off his hat and slowly walked up the narrow stairs.

This is a somewhat old apartment building, near London, and a few hundred meters from the company.

Neither Zheng Kui nor Boss Chen were bluffing him; the company's benefits were indeed quite good. Although Boss Chen wasn't at the company, Zhang Chang'an still received his salary, as well as a prepaid fixed weekly wage.

In addition, although controlled weapons are indeed rare and Zhang Chang'an does not yet have a license, so it is impossible for him to possess them, the company has provided him with other benefits in advance, namely the apartment in front of him.

Of course, this apartment building has several floors and is a row of buildings, so it's impossible for all of them to belong to Zhang Chang'an.

But for an outsider like him to have a separate residence in this era, even if it's just a single room, is quite unusual.

The apartment was dark, and the cramped and steep interior meant that even someone with Zhang Chang'an's physical condition could easily trip and fall.

However, when I went upstairs and opened the apartment door, the condition inside was quite pleasing.

There was only one room with a washroom, but the bed in the room was not small and not cramped. There was not only a wardrobe and trunk, but also a single table and chair set and a complete set of lamps.

"Wow, that's quite a lot..." Zhang Chang'an hung up his coat and hat, inspected the inside and outside of the house, and marveled at the toilet, which was not entirely modern but did have a flushing function.

This thing was indeed invented in this era, but it should have been exclusively for the wealthy.

Although the technological distortion in this world has led to a more advanced development of basic technology than in the same period in history, things that do not involve mechanics may be more widely adopted.

This still shows that this house wasn't something ordinary laborers had the opportunity to live in. Although it wasn't exactly luxurious, at least it was free.

Zhang Chang'an looked in the fairly clean mirror and checked his condition.

She resembles her future self by about 70-80%, but with a more sharp facial expression, and she also cut off her braided hair when she escaped to make things easier.

His ancestor was indeed a ruthless person.

"Clang, clang..." Suddenly, a series of soft noises came from outside the house.

Zhang Chang'an subconsciously tensed up.

However, he quickly realized the source of the commotion and relaxed again, shaking his head helplessly: "Whether he's a ruthless person or not, life is still tough right now."

He walked out of the bathroom and lay down directly on the bed.

Outside the not-so-large window, steel tracks, raised by wooden pillars and steel beams, resemble a giant dragon traveling through the city, towering high just outside the street.

A huge black steam train had just passed between the houses of the common people in the Whitechapel district, and even overhead.

The apartment is indeed quite nice, but in this era, as long as you live in a slum, you inevitably have to endure the noise from factories, horse-drawn carriages, trains, and other things.

The company has been very good to him; the recent source of the large noise is far away, just a row or two away from the houses.

For him, who was exhausted, the vibration and noise were no big deal.

However, he didn't actually plan to rest yet; instead, he took out a bunch of loose change from his pocket.

The mathematics of the British is truly questionable. Their imperial units, which have been a source of endless trouble, generally have little impact on Zhang Chang'an in the future. However, once he arrives in this era, he will inevitably have to use their currency.

He didn't want to remember the conversions of twelve pence to a shilling and twenty shillings to a pound.

Fortunately, money is innocent. Zhang Chang'an just needs to remember the specific value of the money and not think about how difficult it is to spend it.

The salary the company paid him this time consisted of a ten-pound note, several one-pound notes, and a considerable amount of shilling and penny coins.

Adding to his ancestor's original savings, the total was close to twenty pounds, equivalent to more than 2 red bills in the future.

"Yongren Gong's entire fortune was only a little over a pound... The difference is huge." Zhang Chang'an sat on the bed, counted the money, and suddenly felt less tired.

Of course, that wasn't the point. One night's pay wasn't worth him staying up all night. As Zhang Chang'an collected the money, he turned his gaze to the wall in front of him.

"Current head of the family: Zhang Chang'an."

"Position: Variegated (2.63%)".

"Time-space fragments: 920".

"Skills: [Remnant Hongmen Body Nourishing Technique] (Good) [Martial Arts Self-Defense Technique] (Good) [Basic Archery] (Good)."

Zhang Chang'an has seen quite a few interesting things in less than a night since arriving in this special timeline.

But the debris from these things was clearly more useful than his personal curiosity.

Synchronous events, whale oil technology, steam carriages, and charging knuckle dusters directly pushed his total debris count to 900.

This amount is enough for him to buy some nice things, or perhaps some good qualities from the future cowboy Qinghe Gong.

Tonight, he had already shown off his skills on the Jean-Glaucon family's ship, but he knew that since he was still not proficient in martial arts, he would need other assistance to establish himself and climb the ranks quickly in this era of guns and steam-powered weaponry.

So I need to keep practicing my boxing, and I also need to buy other things.

On his way back, Zhang Chang'an had already formed some ideas, and without much hesitation, he bought what he wanted.

As the mottled wood grain on the ceiling shifted, something suddenly appeared in Zhang Chang'an's hand.

It was a round-bottomed flask with a cork stopper, containing a mysterious solution that gradually changed from yellow to green, and floating with a large number of broken fragments such as insect shells and bird feathers.

Upon removing the tightly sealed cork, a scent somewhat similar to mint, fairly refreshing but quite pungent, wafted out.

"It reminds me of the 'bansha' (a traditional Chinese medicine treatment)..." Zhang Chang'an frowned, but still decisively drank it down in large gulps.

At the same time, as he bought something else, a whole new kind of knowledge began to flood into his mind.

………………

"Clang, clang..." On the distant railway tracks, the train once again passed through the city.

"Clang!" The glass bottle that had fallen beside the bed was bumped by Zhang Chang'an's foot as he sat up, and he almost smashed it against the wall.

Zhang Chang'an stood up groggily, bathed in the faint sunlight streaming in from the window.

The faint, muffled noises from upstairs and downstairs, which were barely perceptible due to poor soundproofing, were now crystal clear to him.

Zhang Chang'an tried to open his eyes, but at first all he could see was black and white, and he felt dizzy and lightheaded.

It didn't take him long to adjust. He sat on the edge of the bed and turned his head towards the window.

The city's diverse buildings stretched into the distance in his field of vision, and countless hazes and clouds covered the city's sky, but this did not prevent his business from extending into the distance.

He saw a woman cutting a waffle on the chest of a train passing by outside the street, and a necklace with a total of forty-six pearls on her chest.

Further away, in a large factory, through a window with only a crack in the curtains, a factory owner was brazenly groping a clearly unwilling female worker.

His gaze even drifted further afield, to the heart of London, where the dome of St. Paul's Cathedral stood out prominently among the various buildings.