America 1881: They Call Me Legend

The gunfire in the carriage at the back of the train gradually subsided, followed by a burst of noisy shouting.

Chen Jianqiu recovered from his contemplation. He stuck his head out of the window again and looked back.

At the interface of the luxury car at the back, corpses were thrown out one by one. It looked like they were all robbers;

The few survivors had their hands tied behind their backs and were escorted down by several men in suits holding rifles.

The corpses were laid out in a row on the ground, while the living robbers, held at gunpoint by men in suits, were kneeling next to the corpses, facing the railroad tracks.

A man wearing a soft-brimmed hat and smoking a cigarette stepped out of the train. He held a revolver in his hand and walked calmly to the first robber.

The passengers in the car in front who were forced to get out of the car craned their necks and looked this way.

He threw away the cigarette in his hand and shot the first robber in the head.

"Bang!"

A streak of blood appeared on the robber's head, and he fell forward. His head hit the ground, and he was no longer alive.

Immediately afterwards, he began to line up and shoot the robbers.

When the last one fell to the ground, the man calmly handed the gun in his hand to a subordinate beside him, turned around and walked towards the car in front.

The crowd burst into loud cheers, and some of them even threw their hats high.

"Salute to the brave men who killed the robbers!"

The man smiled and waved to them.

"Friends, you are safe now. Go back to your seats." He said as he walked towards Chen Jianqiu's carriage.

At the junction of the carriages, he saw the battered body.

He frowned, kicked the corpse down, and then walked towards Chen Jianqiu.

He came to Chen Jianqiu's side: "Sir, I heard that you subdued the leader of this group of robbers. Is that true?"

Chen Jianqiu raised his eyebrows: "You and your people have been watching from behind?"

"Sorry, we are not police officers. We have our own responsibilities." The man replied in an official manner.

"No, it's not me. The person who subdued them took them to collect the reward."

The man nodded without looking away from Chen Jianqiu: "Hello, my name is Russell Crowe. I am from New York and I am a detective at Pinkerton Detective Agency."

Asuka and Holmes looked at each other, and Sean lowered his eyelids and looked at the floor.

"Huh?" Chen Jianqiu's face didn't change much.

Russell didn't seem to notice the reactions of the people around him. He glanced at the gun on Chen Jianqiu's waist and continued:

"In order to prevent such unpleasant things from happening again, we would like to check the identities of the passengers. So, can you tell me your name, nationality, and occupation?"

After he finished speaking, no one responded to him.

The passengers in the carriage had not yet re-entered the carriage, and when they saw the body outside the carriage, they all looked away.

The carriage was so quiet that you could hear a pin drop.

Behind the man, Asuka and Danny's hands gradually slid towards his waist.

"Um, Mr. Crow, I would like to ask, you don't have the right to enforce the law on this train, right?"

Mark Twain suddenly spoke. He was sitting in the back and only heard the gunshots outside. He did not see what happened specifically.

Russell turned his head and stared at the writer's face for 10 seconds. He remembered the exact same photo he had seen in the New York Times not long ago, and an extremely restrained professional smile appeared on his face.

"You are Mr. Mark Twain, the famous writer. I have known you for a long time. I am honored to see you here. But why are you staying alone in the ordinary carriage?"

Mark Twain didn't reply because he really didn't know what to say.

It's all nonsense.

If you can afford the luxury carriage tickets, will you still take the ordinary carriage?

As a best-selling author with a generous remuneration, the 45-year-old does have a chance to become a rich man, provided that he does not touch the messy investments of typewriters and publishing houses.

The most important thing is not to touch the damn thing like stocks.

If he hadn't lost his pants in various investments, he wouldn't have gone to the west to collect materials to write a new book to pay off his debts.

Seeing that Mark Twain didn't speak, Russell didn't have the nerve to ask further questions. He glanced at Chen Jianqiu and made up his mind.

Okay, please invite whoever you want. These people are probably fellow travelers, although they look less professional than me. They are co-authors with great writers and are experiencing life in ordinary carriages.

"Sorry to bother you, Mr. Writer, we are providing security protection services for a distinguished gentleman in the luxury carriage."

Russell took out a square towel from his chest pocket and wiped his nose.

"We will send people to contact nearby people to deal with the bombed railway tracks, but in the meantime, we hope you will not get close to the luxury cars to avoid unnecessary misunderstandings."

This sentence was said to Chen Jianqiu, and after saying that, he turned and left.

"Another Fultz." Chen Jianqiu looked at Russell's retreating back and snorted coldly.

"Boss, that person just now probably didn't recognize our identity, right?" Xiao Xiao said quietly to Chen Jianqiu.

"Probably not. Their organizations themselves should all carry out tasks independently. For example, the people who first followed us and the people we caught in Denver are not the same group of people. This group of people should come from the east."

Chen Jianqiu fell into deep thought again.

Along the way, they met many people who caused trouble for them. Some were interested in treasures, such as Morris and Hernandez; some were interested in their own bounties, such as the Bain brothers; and some were interested in protecting themselves.

Beliefs to the point of psychological distortion, and those who refuse to fight against themselves, such as Fultz.

But he really couldn't figure out who the first batch of Pinkerton agents who followed him belonged to. The only head-on confrontation he could confirm so far was in the cave outside Montrose.

Moreover, after his later analysis, the attack should have been purely accidental, and the agent should not have received any instructions from above.

So, what are these people going to do?

The passengers who had been kicked off the car had returned to the carriage one after another, chattering about what had just happened.

They all boasted about the heroic appearance of the well-dressed white detectives when they killed the robbers, but they stayed away from the country bumpkins with different skin colors who also killed the robbers.

Chen Jianqiu didn't care about the strange looks from these people. If he cared about this, he might not be able to live for more than a month after waking up from time travel.

The train conductor suddenly appeared. When the robbery happened just now, he locked himself in his small single room, squatted in the corner, and silently thought that the years would be quiet and everything would be peaceful.

Then the Pinkerton detectives "politely" asked him out.

He was sent to the nearest railway administration to find help.

So the train just stopped in the wilderness, and everyone just waited.

But not long after, a well-dressed servant appeared in the carriage where Chen Jianqiu was. He said to Chen Jianqiu and Mark Twain very respectfully:

"Gentlemen, if you are willing, please come with me. My master has invited you."