“John Foster has been gone for more than a decade. Now, in Dongchang, is there anyone in the The Foster Family with a higher official rank than you or me? Liaodong is in grave danger, and the court is in urgent need of capable people. I suppose exiling a runaway slave who injured his master to serve on the front lines in Liaodong shouldn’t be too much trouble for the Tianjin Military Commissioner, right? I’m about to go clean up Henry Young’s mess—if things go badly, I might lose my head in Liaodong. Even if I find Mr. Walker, surely he wouldn’t refuse such a small request of mine, would he?”

The first official in the blue robe said.

Chapter 002: The Setting Sun of a Flourishing Age

Unaware of all this, William Young, accompanied by the sound of drums behind him, was sprinting wildly down a chaotic street...

The city gate ahead was closing.

But he still had a chance. This city was prosperous, with many people coming and going through the gates, all sorts of vehicles and livestock crowding together with the pedestrians, making it difficult to close the gate. And he was so fast—faster even than a professional athlete’s sprint, covering more than ten meters per second—so the two or three hundred meters between him and the gate vanished in an instant.

Then...

Suddenly, gunshots rang out overhead.

He instinctively dove to the ground at top speed, and a bullet struck the ground ahead.

He looked up in astonishment.

On the city wall, four soldiers were aiming ancient matchlock guns at him. In the next moment, he sprang up like a pouncing leopard, and as the gunshots rang out in succession, he reached the city gate in a flash, bullets kicking up dust behind him.

The pedestrians blocking the gate screamed.

An officer, leading more than a dozen soldiers, cursed as they pushed aside the crowd and rushed forward to intercept him.

William Young leapt straight onto a cart loaded with goods, grabbed a spear that was thrust at him, and, using the force of the soldier trying to reclaim it, vaulted to his side and drove his knee into the soldier’s stomach. The soldier doubled over in pain, and the spear ended up in William Young’s hand. Wielding the spear one-handed, William Young swung it to the right, and the officer raised his sword to block. William Young pulled back and threw the spear to the other side, where it immediately plunged into the belly of a draft horse. The horse neighed in agony and lunged forward, causing several soldiers to jump aside in fright.

With the angry gaze of the officer separated from him by a handcart, William Young took advantage of the chaos to squeeze quickly into the gate passage.

The two half-closed city gates were jammed by a large cart. Four soldiers trying to close the gates cursed and thrust their spears backward at the same time. William Young immediately ducked, using the large cart as cover, slipped under the four spears, and suddenly appeared in front of the soldier blocking his way. Before the man could react, William Young punched him hard.

The soldier screamed and fell flat on his back.

William Young stepped on him and leapt forward, pouncing over the large cart and out of the city gate, then got up and continued to sprint forward without hesitation.

But as he exited the gate passage, he quickly ducked back.

Because on the opposite barbican, four matchlock guns were waiting for him, along with several bows and even a few triple-barreled hand cannons. However, the road inside the barbican was clear, as the merchants and travelers trapped inside had wisely moved to the sides, leaving the enclosed semicircular area wide open.

“Run! Go on, run!”

The officer sneered from behind.

William Young turned and smiled...

“As you wish!”

he said.

Suddenly, he sprinted forward at full speed.

“Fire!”

A shout rang out overhead.

Gunshots sounded at the same time.

But the bullets and arrows all landed behind William Young; he was simply too fast. The soldiers needed time to react, and it was nearly impossible to aim at someone moving over ten meters per second. Matchlock guns had a delay, and arrows weren’t fast enough—unless it was a head-on shot, it was hard to hit. The officer stared in disbelief, as if he couldn’t trust his own eyes. Even when William Young, already inside the gate passage, turned and waved at him with a smile, the officer rubbed his eyes in astonishment.

And then he watched helplessly as William Young opened the city gate, which hadn’t even been locked...

William Young’s view suddenly opened up.

Before him stood countless masts, with ancient wooden ships moored in the calm river—so many that they could only be described as innumerable. These timeworn riverboats crowded the docks along the riverbank, packed together like the ships in the Philadelphia Navy Yard during World War II. To the right was a three-way river junction, where a large river flowed southeast, and even larger ships crowded the shore. But to the west of the junction, the narrowed river ran north, and a line of wooden sailing ships was moving upstream...

William Young immediately turned around and looked up at the three large characters above the main city gate.

Gongbei Gate.

“Tianjin Wei City.”

He took a deep breath and said.

“The Tianjin Wei City of the Ming Dynasty!”

He sighed again.

And it was the late Ming, since even matchlock guns had appeared.

This fact was hardly pleasant!

“Fire!”

A shout suddenly rang out behind him.

William Young dodged as fast as he could behind a city gate, and bullets immediately struck the iron-clad oak boards behind him...

He looked up apologetically at the wooden bridge over the moat.