The Ancestral Legacy Begins in the Wild West

"?" Zhang Chang'an could understand that the gunshot had attracted the man's attention.

The sound of a revolver is not quiet to begin with, and this person didn't seem to have come from the doorway, so it's not surprising that he happened to be passing by and heard it.

But: "What do you mean by 'liking revolvers'..."

Zhang Chang'an had just recognized the other party's swordsmanship style when the first thing they said was about guns.

"Who are you?" Zhang Chang'an asked.

Instead of answering directly, the man asked, "The gun, it works well, doesn't it?"

Zhang Chang'an was taken aback.

The man did not seem to want him to answer.

"I think it's much more powerful than swords and knives; any child or woman could wield it with great force. It's just that many people don't realize it yet."

As he spoke, he raised his head and said, "Although I just arrived and don't know exactly what happened at the factory, given your skills, the chaos there must be related to you."

Zhang Chang'an realized something: "Why does this guy's words have such a reformist flavor?"

The man continued speaking to himself: "The so-called patriots of today are reckless, impulsive, and directionless. They have passion, but don't know how to use it; they have ideals, but can't see the path ahead."

However, a new era has indeed arrived. Even if the direction is somewhat off, capable people should not be buried or become mediocre.

He looked at Zhang Chang'an, sheathed his sword, and said, "Why don't you try to do something great with me?"

Zhang Chang'an understood and calmly replied, "I'm not interested."

The man's expression did not change.

Zhang Chang'an continued, "I'm doing all this just for myself. Given my current situation, I don't have time to care about any new era."

His words were very direct.

But the person wasn't angry.

He simply glanced at Zhang Chang'an a few times, then nodded.

"It's alright," he said, his tone still calm. "As long as you're not harming anyone, and as long as you haven't become an enemy, I certainly won't stand in your way."

"However, if you change your mind later, or if you need any help, you can come to me anytime," he said, pausing before adding, "My name is Sakamoto Ryoma."

After speaking, he bowed slightly as a gesture of respect, then turned and silently walked out of the alley toward the factory gate.

Zhang Chang'an stood there, watching the figure disappear into the darkness, then shouldered his knife and stood there, stunned.

"Sakamoto Ryoma... Is it really that easy to run into celebrities in Kyoto?"

This is not a special setting of the Twisted Rift. Sakamoto Ryoma, the successor of the Hokushin Ittō-ryū style, was also one of the important figures who promoted the Meiji Restoration.

Soon after, he will establish Kameyama-sha, the earliest prototype of a company on the island nation and the predecessor of the famous organization, the Kaientai.

In the future, it will provide the reformers with a crucial asset for promoting development, namely a large number of Western guns and ships.

At this time, he should still be an important figure in the Zunrang faction, but signs of this trend have already begun to emerge.

Indeed, he is a renowned swordsman who practices American-style iaido: "No wonder he was drawn here by the sound of a revolver... What a strange person."

Zhang Chang'an pondered for a moment, then sheathed his sword and turned around.

"Never mind, business is more important." He pressed his hands on his clothes, which were stuffed with parts, and silently walked into the darkness.

………………

The Shinsengumi's headquarters, located in Mibu Village, Kyoto, is a large complex of Japanese-style buildings.

During the day, the place is bustling with people, swordsmen training, patrolling, and handing over missions, making it as lively as a military camp. But at this moment, it is not yet dawn, and apart from the sentries on night duty and a few houses with lights still on, the entire garrison is silent.

Zhang Chang'an was led by a young soldier through a winding corridor to a half-open door.

"Vice Commander Hijikata is inside," the soldier said in a low voice. He paused, then added, "Please be careful, sir. The vice commander isn't in a good mood tonight."

Zhang Chang'an nodded, picked up his toolbox, and pushed open the door to go inside.

A few oil lamps were lit inside, casting a dim, yellowish light. Directly opposite the door was a low table, on which were placed tea sets and several open documents.

A man sat behind a low table, his head bowed as he wiped a wound on his arm with a cloth.

Earthen house, year three.

Just as Zhang Chang'an had previously thought, this is indeed an era where it is easy to run into celebrities.

Hijikata was in his early thirties, with a thin face, high brow bones, and a straight nose. His hair was a standard chonmage style, and his clothing was very similar to Okita Souji's, with a haori over his kimono. There were a few dark stains on the cuffs and hem, clearly dried blood.

The red color was faintly visible beneath the bandages on his left arm. He held a white cloth in his right hand, wiping the bloodstains from the back of his left hand.

He looked up when he heard the door open.

That gaze made Zhang Chang'an instinctively tense up, almost activating the Eye of Death.

"Zhang Tiezhou?" Tu Fang spoke, the fierceness in his eyes fading, his voice low, tired, and hoarse.

"Yes." Zhang Chang'an bowed slightly. "Vice Commander, where are the equipment that needs repair?"

Tu Fang didn't speak, but simply pointed to the corner of the room.

There was a steam exoskeleton that was half the height of a person, much simpler than the one Zhang Ansheng was wearing, but it looked even more unrestrained.

The thick copper pipes were exposed, suggesting a powerful engine, but the connected pressure valves and even the oil tank all showed varying degrees of damage.

The most serious injury was to the joint of his right arm, where a gearbox was smashed and deformed, with bloodstains on the edges.

Zhang Ansheng walked over, lifted the exoskeleton away, and began to examine it.

Just then, a few more people entered the room.

Okita Souji changed into a clean, casual kimono, no longer wearing the light blue haori. His complexion was paler than during the day, but he was in good spirits, and his face still wore a gentle smile.

"Mr. Tiezhou is here?" He walked over to Zhang Ansheng, looked down at the damaged equipment, and said, "Thank you for your hard work."

"It seems Mr. Hijikata is quite badly injured today?"

The last sentence was, of course, addressed to Hijikata Toshizo.

Hijikata simply snorted and didn't reply.

Okita didn't seem to mind, and simply sat down and poured himself a cup of tea. But besides him, there were two other people behind him.

"Where's Director Kondo? Saito-san?" Okita asked.

"Resting," Saito Hajime, tall and thin with a cold expression, replied briefly from behind him.

Another man, with bandages wrapped around his hands and a rugged appearance, plopped down next to Okita, took the tea Okita offered, gulped down a large mouthful, and then let out a long sigh.

"Tonight's events were fucking frustrating," he muttered.

Okita, who seemed uninvolved in tonight's events, asked, "What happened, Harada-san?"

Harada Sanosuke said, counting on his fingers, "We're stuck with those pro-imperial faction people. The vice-commander is holding them off in front, while I'm being ambushed from behind. But before we've caught anyone, they've scattered."

"They've dispersed?" Okita raised an eyebrow slightly. "The Kyoto Shojidai (a high-ranking official in Kyoto) has arrived?"

"No." Harada shook his head: "I asked later, and the people from Kyoto Shojidai hadn't even arrived yet. They left on their own."

The room fell silent for a moment. Zhang Chang'an kept his head down, repairing the equipment, but his ears were already perked up.

"It's Sakamoto Ryoma." Hijikata Toshizo, who had been silent all along, suddenly spoke, his voice sounding very unpleasant.