The mage in the late Qing Dynasty

"He's coming, he's coming..."

A policeman shouted heartbreakingly.

"Farke, shut up, we all saw it."

"Shoot, shoot..."

"There are our people in front of you. Do you want to shoot at your teammates?"

As he got closer, Zhao Chuanxin pushed the policeman he was holding hostage, causing him to stagger forward and fall forward.

His companion wanted to help him, but he didn't dare.

Zhao Chuanxin jumped up suddenly, jumping more than one meter high, and stayed in the air longer than Gordon in the league.

While in the air, Zhao Chuanxin pointed his gun downward.

Bang, bang!

Both men were shot in the shoulders.

From this angle, whether the shoulder blades will be broken is no longer within the scope of Zhao Chuanxin's consideration.

After firing the shot, Zhao Chuanxin could still turn around in the air. Before landing, he looked down and fired at the policeman behind another bunker.

boom!

Shot in the shoulder.

A policeman rushed out from the side.

Zhao Chuanxin pulled the trigger, click...the magazine was empty.

He raised his hand, Phoenix Xuan Ring, boom...

The police flew upside down.

John Browning was reluctant to leave.

As a firearms designer, he spent too much time in the office and drawings, and never saw real combat.

Just because he doesn't yearn for it doesn't mean he isn't curious.

Especially Zhao Chuanxin's war made him feel happy to watch.

In this era, both police and soldiers use thermal weapons in a disciplined manner.

He has never seen or heard of anyone fighting like Zhao Chuanxin.

At this time, Zhao Chuanxin had almost finished the fight and shouted: "The rest of you, listen up. If you don't want to get hurt, go back and tell your colleagues. If you see me in the future, stay away."

After speaking, he turned back confidently, pulled the slide with one hand, and the remaining bullet ejected from the side ejection port.

Put away the gun first, and put away the bullet as well.

From a distance, Browning watched him skillfully control the Continental gun he designed, and even began to feel unfamiliar with the gun.

Is this what the safety manual says?

Zhao Chuanxin saw that he hadn't left yet: "Why are you still here?"

John Browning shrugged: "I don't think there's any need to go. There's not much danger to speak of."

"Haha, then you can stay here for fun, I'm leaving."

"Wait." John Browning quickly stopped Zhao Chuanxin.

"What? You still want to treat me to dinner?"

John Browning was ashamed. He looked at the policemen lying on the ground in the distance and the policemen who were treating their companions. He thought to himself that inviting a desperado to dinner in such a blatant way would probably get him into trouble, right?

However, John Browning was very enthusiastic about the design of firearms.

The curiosity about Ares M1907 outweighed the worry of getting into trouble.

He gritted his teeth and said, "Okay, I'll treat you to dinner."

Zhao Chuanxin was about to leave, but he paused when he heard this.

Really please?

He thought for a moment that John Browning knew everything about the weapons design and manufacturing industry.

The small workshop that I want to build may even get some advice from him.

After thinking about this, Zhao Chuanxin's face changed and he smiled: "Hey, they say you are a guest from afar. Since Mr. Browning is coming to New York, as the host, how can I let you invite him?"

John Browning swore that in all his life he had never seen anyone change his face so quickly.

He looked down at the little girl he was holding and frowned: "Little girl, go over there and find the police and ask them to take you home."

The little girl was frightened and a little at a loss.

She looked at Zhao Chuanxin and hugged the thigh of the person who saved her.

"Oh, you know how to hug someone's thighs."

Zhao Chuanxin looked around and saw the little girl's parents missing.

He picked her up with one arm, put her on his shoulder, and stuffed a candy ball brought from China into her mouth.

The little girl chirped: "My teeth are sticky."

"Haha, it just so happens that you have to replace your teeth. Once they are glued on, they will fall out. It's just right."

John Browning: "..."

Why do you feel like you don't have a formal look?

He hesitated: "How about taking her with you?"

"It doesn't matter, I'll take her home later."

Wait for them to leave.

Not far away, a sneaky figure emerged.

None other than Grenville Harper.

The pretty boy looked around to make sure there was no danger, then ran to the police to provide clues.

At the same time, Charles Baker was also conducting in-depth investigations into information about "Chen Yigeng".

He went to the Manhattan Detention Center and met the real Chen Yigeng.

Chen Yigeng is 1.7 meters tall, lean, with triangular eyes, a scar on the tip of his eyebrow, and a fierce look on his face.

"Do you know what you did?"

Chen Yigeng didn't care: "Isn't the case already determined? You are a police detective, why do you come to ask me?"

Charles Baker sneered: "You were imprisoned in Xinxin Prison. You killed several people in prison. You have been sentenced to death and will be sent to the electric chair!"

"What the hell?" Chen Yigeng was shocked. "I've been locked up here, how could I do those things?"

He is a member of the "An Liang Tang" in Chinatown, New York, and was detained for organizing illegal gambling and extortion.

But if it is not his own sin, he will never admit it.

Seeing that his expression didn't seem to be fake, Charles Baker frowned.

"Did you know someone was impersonating you?"

"Pretend to be me?" Chen Yigeng really couldn't think of anyone who would do such a thankless thing.

He is not a fuel-efficient lamp.

Charles Baker described to him the appearance of Zhao Chuanxin.

Chen Yigeng was confused.

Seeing this, Charles Baker shook his head regretfully. It seemed that nothing could be found here.

He stood up: "I will contact you again."

With that said, he left the Manhattan Detention Center.

Then he got the news.

Chen Yigeng used a pistol to smash the shoulders of seven or eight police officers in Madison Square.

The New York police community now has a nickname for Chen Yigeng, called - Shoulder Broker!

Ferocious reputation.

The key is that it happened when he was interrogating Zhen Chen Yigeng.

Now he was sure that this Chen Yigeng had nothing to do with that Chen Yigeng.

Hearing that a banker provided some clues, Charles Baker found Grenville Harper's home through the records left behind.

Learning that Chen Yigeng was very close to a woman named Maria, through Grenville Harper's description, Charles Baker felt that he was about to figure out the truth.

But right now, he must avoid the limelight first, because that "Chen Yigeng" seems a bit untouchable...

…

Delmonico's Restaurant.

This is one of Manhattan's more sophisticated restaurants and has been open for almost a century.

Zhao Chuanxin ordered two Delmonico steaks, two New York steaks, four Newburgh lobsters, eight bread puddings, and a bottle of red wine.

John Browning's eyes widened and he could hardly believe his ears.

"Can you and her eat so much?"

"It's a joke, it's a joke. Eat less at noon and exercise a lot in the afternoon."

This restaurant is famous for its service, probably because Zhao Chuanxin orders it more. After the waiter opened the red wine, he stood by while he was decanting it.

Zhao Chuanxin glanced at him: "Is this a telegraph pole? Go ahead and smash it!"

Waiter: "..."

He left aggrievedly.

John Browning's forehead was shiny. He wiped his sweat and didn't know what to say.

But Zhao Chuanxin spoke: "Brother, let me ask you something."

"..." John Browning secretly estimated the age difference between the two parties at least thirty years, and said awkwardly: "You can ask."

"What do you think of the Mondragon semi-automatic rifle?"

This gun was developed as early as last year, and Zhao Chuanxin has been coveting it for a long time.

The problem is, if a semi-automatic rifle appears in this era, but it has not been popularized, there must be something wrong.

"I know this gun." John Browning was extremely confident in his field, even a little arrogant: "The design is too complex, difficult to produce, and difficult to maintain. If dust gets in, the case and bullet will jam immediately. Turn The bolt-type locking mechanism looks like loading a weak and handsome young man into the battlefield. It is fragile and vulnerable. Not to mention the pistons and cylinders required for the pneumatic automatic loading system..."

After studying with his apprentice for such a long time, Zhao Chuanxin is by no means a rookie.

He listened carefully to the expert's evaluation, his brows furrowing deeper and deeper.

These problems also exist in the drawings designed by Benjamin Goldberg.

He tentatively asked: "If I have a similar drawing and you participate in improving it, do you have a solution?"

"I pay more attention to reliability. Any negligence on the battlefield is fatal, and no country is willing to pay for it. I think that as long as it is a semi-automatic rifle, it is inseparable from these problems, just like the repeating gun you mentioned... "

Speaking of submachine guns, John Browning suddenly got stuck and could no longer speak.

A living example is in front of us. Not only was it successfully developed, but it didn't seem to have a single malfunction when it was fired today.

Then, things that seemed very certain to him before became less confident.

"Continue?" Zhao Chuanxin urged when he saw that he had stopped.

"Um, can you show me your gun?"

I definitely won't let you see it.

This guy is a professional. Zhao Chuanxin doesn't want the submachine gun to appear on the battlefield, especially in the hands of his enemies.

He blinked: "There's nothing interesting to see, forget it, let's not talk about these guns, let's talk about building a workshop. I want to build a small workshop, can you give me some advice?"

"..." John Browning was a little unhappy. This man was such a thief.

He said: "You have to know that first of all, my specialty is designing firearms. Secondly, although I can give advice, it is for a fee."

Giving money is impossible.

Who is not short of money?

Zhao Chuanxin rolled his eyes: "How about you and I working together? You and my R\u0026D team will develop a new pistol together?"

This old boy soon came up with a century-old classic model-M1911.

Its performance, reliability and power are a qualitative leap compared to today's guns. It has not fallen behind after hundreds of years and can stand the test of time.

The principle of firearms is similar.

But just such a small gap can be magnified countless times on the battlefield, requiring human lives to fill it.

Benjamin Goldberg is indeed a genius, but genius cannot make up for the gap in experience.

Just like good soldiers, they are fed with bullets.

First lure the old boy to take the bait, and then let him work as a free labor force to contribute to his own small workshop.

John Browning hesitated.

A team that could develop a submachine gun would be no worse than his.

"I need to think about this..."

The little girl looked at the dishes served by the waiter and said timidly: "Ethan, which one is mine?"