The Ancestral Legacy Begins in the Wild West

In January 1880, Edison filed an important patent application for the modern electric light across the ocean, which was successfully approved.

Following this, electric lights, invented by humankind, quickly began to cover the entire globe.

In the same year, an American scientist named Hiram Maxim filed a similar patent, which was not approved until July.

Disheartened by his complete defeat in the competition, he went to England. And by a twist of fate, he ended up on the path of weapons research.

This gave birth to the Maxim machine gun, one of the two great progenitors of modern machine guns, alongside the Gatling gun, and the father of fully automatic weapons.

"Choose that star... it's too heavy!" Uncle Wang, who was usually calm and whose breathing was barely noticeable when sniping, shouted angrily while suppressing the shaking of the gun barrel.

The bullets, forming a continuous net, covered most of the corridor. In the blink of an eye, dozens of rounds were fired, instantly covering the people in front of them. The bullets swept through the crowd, instantly knocking them down.

One spent cartridge after another was ejected from the gun's bolt. Uncle Wang directly harnessed the heavy exoskeleton, strode forward, passed the fallen men, and arrived at the entrance to the corridor leading to the hall.

"Bang bang bang bang bang..." The gunfire was almost continuous, with no discernible pauses, and countless bullets rained down on the window.

The steam-powered hound that had just pounced on one of its comrades had several steel plates torn apart instantly, sparks flying everywhere.

The Maxim machine gun, without a bipod, weighs over 27 kilograms and has a caliber of 11.43 mm. Its theoretical maximum rate of fire can reach 600 rounds per minute.

Even when the speed is slowed down, a belt of more than 300 rounds can be fired within a minute.

If the enemy's body doesn't react in time, they might be poisoned by heavy metals before their body is shattered.

"Buzz..." The machine gun in Uncle Wang's hand quickly began to overheat and even emitted smoke. However, his exoskeleton had a special water cooling system that quickly began to cool the barrel.

This equipment was originally an engineering machine invented specifically for lifting, but the design ultimately failed because fuel was too expensive and transporting heavy objects was not profitable.

Of course, the inventor eventually found a use for this thing, carrying the Maxim machine gun, which was always mounted on the battlefield or on wheels, into battle.

"Phew... Calm down, calm down. Don't get carried away and throw away all your marksmanship." Uncle Wang took advantage of the gun barrel cooling down to calm himself down.

Under his suppressive fire, the other dressed-up brothers, working with Zheng Kui, dismantled the steam hound.

He had lived most of his life without knowing martial arts, but he could kill countless people with a gun. However, he had never fought so freely before.

However, it has to be him.

When Zhang Chang'an was choosing equipment, he specifically asked why the Maxim exoskeleton was already capable of playing a major role in positional warfare, and therefore little research had been invested in its development.

Therefore, this exoskeleton only allows people to carry machine guns; to shoot accurately, one still needs to have excellent marksmanship.

Because of its imperfections, Uncle Wang spent a lot of time in the inner room adjusting the equipment after it arrived: "It wasn't a complete waste of effort..."

Uncle Wang recalled the powerful effects of this equipment and felt that bolt-action rifles were no longer as appealing.

But before he could rest for long, he heard mechanical noises coming from downstairs again.

"Click-clack!" Perhaps it was too troublesome for Xiong Ge to deal with two by himself, a steam-powered hound darted and weaved along the stairwell and suddenly burst into the second floor.

One of the brothers turned around abruptly, aiming the sawn-off shotgun at the hound, but was instantly knocked away, flying dust with a "bang," and slammed against the wall, his fate unknown.

Uncle Wang could only grit his teeth, curse under his breath, and immediately lift Maxim up again.

………………

Outside the street, Harold calmly waved his hand, listening to the chaotic commotion coming from the direction of the company.

The men in the carriage immediately understood and gestured towards the window.

Then, a dozen or twenty thugs who had arrived later appeared near the street and began heading towards the company.

Harold came from the lower class and was a poor worker in the Whitechapel district twenty years ago. Because of this, he had an exceptional understanding of how impoverished the working class was.

He later made a name for himself on the streets, rose through the ranks of horse racing companies, and now has become low-key and entered politics. For him, manpower has always been just a number.

Just like those voters who support him but whom he has little to empathize with, if these people could achieve his success like these thugs do today by dying instead of voting, he would be happy to see it.

"This time it really wasn't worth it." His only regret was that he couldn't achieve his goal with fewer resources.

Of course, perhaps because he was confident, he suddenly remembered something after the group slowly approached the company: "By the way, have the men I sent to take out that gunman returned?"

His men were taken aback when they heard this, and leaned out of the car window to look.

The streetlights in the nearby streets seemed to have been extinguished by the fire, making it exceptionally dark, and he couldn't see the scene over the empty building in the distance.

However, when he moved his gaze a little closer and looked at the alley between them and the empty building,

The subordinate's eyes widened suddenly.

"Fuck..." Harold's subordinate, who had been suppressing his swearing every day as he interacted with politicians, finally let out a curse.

Just ten steps away from them, at the entrance of an alleyway, brightly lit by streetlights.

A thug carrying a long-barreled rifle, who was patrolling around, was suddenly pulled into the alley by something and quickly fell to the ground. Only his hand, hanging down, was sticking out of the alley. No sound was made during the process.

A tall, muscular figure wearing a large trench coat, with his head slightly bowed, silently walked towards the next thug on guard duty, carrying the long gun he had just taken from the thug.

Behind him, along the street stretching into the distance, several thugs were already lying on the ground, their heads smashed to pieces, or their throats slit.

Among them were some extremely important figures, such as the technicians responsible for remotely controlling the electrical signals and directing the hunting dogs.

"Quick! Run! Quick!"

The subordinate immediately turned around and shouted at the coachman in front of the carriage.

To keep a low profile and avoid being easily spotted, Harold specifically chose a traditional horse-drawn carriage. This had its advantages, as it didn't require warming up the engine; a flick of the reins was all it took to set off.

"Whoa!!" The two large horses in front of the carriage neighed, and the wheels immediately scraped across the not-so-sturdy gravel road.

At the same time, the subordinate immediately retreated into the carriage, told Harold, who was frowning and unaware of what had happened, to hide, and then grabbed a technical device next to him.

Zhang Chang'an, seeing the carriage slowly start moving, clicked his tongue in exasperation.

He flicked several portable smoke grenades to the side with his backhand.

Amidst the hissing sound, several of the thugs who were protecting Harold were about to rush forward when they lost their way in the smoke.

But at that very moment, from somewhere in the shadows nearby, as an electrical signal was transmitted, a colossal creature slowly rose to its feet.

With a "snap!", the orange fog lights were turned on, and I began to step into the smoke.