The Ancestral Legacy Begins in the Wild West

"Bang!" The sound of steel breaking and deforming rang out. The moment Jack left the building, he twisted his wrist and pulled out a willow-leaf knife from somewhere, directly cutting the silk thread wrapped around his wrist.

Having broken free of his restraints, he tapped his high boots against the wall several times, then, while pressing down on his hat, landed lightly on the ground.

And Zhang Chang'an.

"Bang!"

"Splash..."

Thanks to his enhanced physical abilities and the mechanical equipment he was still wearing, he crashed to the ground without actually getting hurt. He was just a little dizzy from the impact, and landed on a pile of wood chips, covered in dust.

The scattered dust brought him the only good news: "I have initially mastered the new skill [Eye of Killing Intent] (Premium).

This ability inherits your previous hunting skills and sensory enhancements, greatly improving your shooting ability and temporarily increasing your thinking speed.

Besides being triggered by increased focus or by actively generating murderous intent, it can also be triggered spontaneously when you feel uneasy, tense, or sense murderous intent from others.

"Whoosh!" Not long after landing, Zhang Chang'an decisively sprang to his feet from the mess on the ground.

He had already noticed the flaws in this ability: "Bullet time does have an advantage in combat, but it requires a lot of focus... It breaks even if you relax a little or adjust your breathing. Is it because I haven't mastered it yet?"

For martial artists, holding their breath for a long time is not a good state.

He adjusted his breathing and looked up into the alley.

Jack the Ripper is standing in front of a whale oil lamp on the street.

"My mother lived on the dirtiest streets in Whitechapel, selling herself every day for a few pennies, which she then exchanged for cheap gin."

He patted his slightly dusty suit with an elegant gesture, as if he had just returned from a ball.

"After that, I was ordered to rummage through the trash cans behind the restaurant that used spoiled fish to make food for her."

He casually tossed aside the broken knife, while the willow-leaf knife in his other hand, like his body, was shrouded in the cold light of the lamp.

"My father was probably a wealthy man, but I don't know who he was. I just inherited his looks and his mind. So I got away from that place quickly."

As he spoke, he gripped the knife and began walking into the alley:

"I first pretended to be crazy and was taken away by the Xicheng District Mental Hospital, which needed research subjects. I quickly proved my sanity and not only left the hospital, but also received relief and educational assistance from the director."

After a short time in London, I had earned money, dressed respectably, and learned the manners and etiquette of high society. I could walk into any upscale club.

"But I find I can't forget, Mr. Zhang."

As he spoke, he walked into a dark alleyway: "I find that I still think about the streets of Whitechapel, about them."

"So I came back. The people I killed were like my mother—prostitutes, alcoholics, abusers of their illegitimate children, and self-destructive individuals."

I thought killing them would put my mind at ease, but unfortunately it didn't.

In the distance, the faint sound of a train whistle could be heard.

Jack the Ripper spread his hands to his left and right, saying, "Of course their deaths weren't meaningless. They made me even more puzzled, so I read books, Mr. Zhang. A lot of books."

Philosophy, literature, those works that attempt to explain the human soul. They made me realize one thing.

As he said this, he gave Zhang Chang'an a smile that was both incredibly sincere and utterly sinister, sending chills down one's spine:

"I am a bad person."

I had too many regrets from my childhood, so they can never be made up for. I didn't kill them because they deserved to die, but because I enjoyed it. This way, my dark past can become less dark.

"So I changed my targets. From those who were decadent, to those who refused to be decadent. From those who seemed to be alive but were actually long dead, to those who were striving to live."

His gaze was fixed on Zhang Chang'an, making Zhang Chang'an feel a chill run down his spine.

"Mr. Zhang, you are the target I have discovered."

I've been watching you ever since that fight in the carriage.

As an immigrant, your future was bleak, and you started from a very low point, but you still didn't give up. You climbed your way out of this cutthroat city step by step. Now, you're about to achieve success.

"So I was no longer just a bystander. I went and took care of Harold, who wasn't quite dead yet, thus solidifying your success."

He raised the willow-leaf knife, its tip pointing at Zhang Chang'an: "Now, I can truly kill a very valuable person."

The alleyway finally returned to a deathly silence.

The cold light from the whale lamp cast long, faint shadows of the two people onto the broken brick wall.

Zhang Chang'an finally realized where Oliver had bumped into this freak: "No wonder he's a guy who'll go down in history, he's really insane enough..."

The thought flashed through his mind, but in that instant, Jack the Ripper had already moved.

His black vest-style overcoat billowed in the wind, and he darted toward Zhang Chang'an like a bat.

"Snap!" With just one step, he moved like a black lightning bolt, instantly appearing in front of Zhang Chang'an.

Zhang Chang'an did not retreat. He flicked his back hand sharply, and a crisp metallic scraping sound still came from his sleeve.

That was the previous steam-powered knife, with segmented blades that unfolded in the time it takes to poke an eye.

At the same moment, the steam equipment on Zhang Chang'an activated. The steam pipes distributed along his spine and ribs instantly channeled various forces into his arms.

Zhang Chang'an's right hand suddenly chopped down.

The black, gleaming blade hissed through the air, carrying steam.

Jack the Ripper, gripping his scalpel and preparing to thrust his arm out, was immediately stopped in his tracks.

Zhang Chang'an slashed with his knife, and although Jack stopped abruptly and was not hit, his action did not end there.

Zhang Chang'an twisted his feet, not only failing to pull back the slashing knife, but also raising his left elbow, instantly spinning half a circle, and delivering a vicious horizontal elbow strike directly towards Jack's head.

Among the five major styles of Cantonese boxing, Li Family Boxing and Changqiao Dama are known for their elbow techniques, characterized by their simplicity and strength.

"call!"

As the elbow swept across, Jack's body seemed boneless, leaning back almost folding itself in half to dodge the attack.

More importantly, as he leaned back, he also swung his left leg up, flipping himself over on the spot, and at that moment, he thrust out the willow-leaf knife in his right hand.

"Hmph!" Zhang Chang'an was quite surprised and suspicious as he looked at the strange change in his figure, but his previous combat experience made him not hesitate.

The chilling blade slowly approached, and Zhang Chang'an's consciousness briefly focused, slowing everything around him down.

After a brief moment of thought, instead of retreating, he took a step forward, shifting his center of gravity and immediately raising his left leg to deliver a vicious side kick to Jack's head.

Among the five major styles of boxing, the Mo family boxing is a rare example of leg techniques in Southern martial arts, where one kick is more powerful than three punches.

"Come on!" The blade was slowly approaching Zhang Chang'an's abdomen. But almost at the same time, his leg, as strong as a steel whip, would inevitably land on the side of Jack's head and neck.