But after running less than twenty meters, he suddenly pulled hard on the reins, stopping the horse, while looking ahead with a thoughtful expression.

　　Little Grace looked at him in confusion.

　　In the window in front of Eric Bennett was a gas pump. A driver was picking up the fuel nozzle, the card already inserted, and in the breast pocket of his jacket, cigarettes and a lighter could be seen.

　　Eric Bennett snatched the fuel nozzle and switched it to his left hand. While continuously spraying gasoline onto the ground, he casually fished the lighter and cigarette pack from the driver’s pocket with his right hand. Less than half a minute later, the cavalry squad turned the corner at the end of the street. Eric Bennett immediately tossed the fuel nozzle back, swiftly mounted his horse, lit a cigarette, and threw it to the ground. The nearest cavalryman was already right behind him, and the cigarette pack landed directly under the horse’s hooves. Flames instantly shot up, engulfing both men and horses in a flash, then rapidly spreading backward. At least half the cavalry, unable to control their horses, were caught in the sea of fire.

　　“Hyah!”

　　Eric Bennett shouted, and his steed immediately bolted forward.

　　But right after, he suddenly reined in, because at that moment, a large group of Qing soldiers appeared ahead—musketeers, no less—blocking the street in formation, each aiming their guns with great ceremony.

　　“Master, please don’t worry about this servant!”

　　Little Grace said, trembling with fear.

　　“Shut up.”

　　Eric Bennett said.

　　“Insolent demon! Surrender at once!”

　　An officer rode out from behind the musket squad, striking a pose on horseback and pointing at him, shouting loudly. However, with the screams of the burning cavalry behind, the atmosphere was somewhat bizarre.

　　Eric Bennett looked around gloomily.

　　He was completely cornered. In front were dozens of muskets—though not very accurate, their sheer number was overwhelming. Behind him, a large group of cavalry separated by a wall of fire. On both sides, buildings. The only thing in the window before him that could be used as a weapon was a squirt gun in a child’s hand. If he surrendered, he’d be at their mercy; if not, he’d be riddled with bullets.

　　“Ready!”

　　The officer opposite raised his hand.

　　The musketeers behind him immediately prepared to pull the trigger.

　　“Everyone stop!”

　　At that moment, a drawn-out, raspy voice suddenly shouted from behind the musketeers. The officer, recognizing the voice, was so startled he hurriedly dismounted and rushed forward. The musketeers quickly parted to the sides, and a middle-aged man in eunuch attire, protected by four guards, hurried out from the rear. The officer quickly bowed, and the eunuch waved his hand, said a few words, then left him behind and walked up to Eric Bennett.

　　“Which one of you is the immortal?”

　　He asked, beaming with a broad smile.

　　Eric Bennett took out a cigarette, lit it with the lighter, took a drag, blew out a smoke ring, and said, “Isn’t that obvious?”

　　“How should I address the immortal?”

　　The eunuch asked, eyes shining.

　　“Eric Bennett.”

　　Eric Bennett struck an immortal’s pose and replied arrogantly.

　　“Mr. Bennett, His Majesty summons you.”

　　The eunuch said with a smile.

　　“Lead the way.”

　　Eric Bennett snorted through his nose.

　　As he spoke, he casually placed the fire axe on the windowsill. The eunuch, who couldn’t see the window, instantly widened his eyes. Clearly, this trick of making something disappear into thin air only made Eric Bennett seem even more like an immortal.

　　And so, the demon instantly transformed into an immortal. Even Eric Bennett himself was caught off guard by such a dramatic turn of events.

　　Of course, he didn’t know that at this very moment, his Kang Mazi brand kitchen knife was already placed before the real Adam Cooper. The latter didn’t care about the four characters on it. In fact, even Evan Grant, who delivered the knife, didn’t think much of it. No one could associate the name Adam Cooper with their master. What they cared about was the knife’s performance, because next to it lay a saber that had been chopped clean in half.

　　Clearly, their saber had never cut through Ma’s stainless steel.

　　“Master, this servant finds the matter most peculiar. Look at this knife: though it appears to be a butcher’s cleaver, the quality of the steel rivals that of a hundred-times-forged blade, and it’s as spotless as silver, without a trace of rust. The handle’s material is neither horn nor wood—this servant has never seen its like, though it somewhat resembles jade. Such a thing would never be used as a weapon, but if it were for a butcher, they’d never use something like this either. I fear only an immortal’s treasure could match it.”

　　Evan Grant said cautiously.

　　Normally, such a trivial matter wouldn’t require his attention, but the one who died was the only son of a good friend from his own banner, so he came in person to oversee things. Unexpectedly, his men immediately presented him with such a treasure. Though it looked odd, the material was unlike anything he’d ever seen. Just then, the soldier who had called for help returned. Upon hearing that the target could use sorcery, he immediately realized the situation was unusual and hurried to find Adam Cooper. As the Commander of the Nine Gates, he certainly didn’t need to wait in line.

　　“Immortal? Demon? Hmph!”

　　Adam Cooper snorted heavily.

　　At this point, he had no other ambitions—he just wanted to live another five hundred years to witness the Qing dynasty’s golden age. But such a thing was impossible without an immortal. Though he wasn’t particularly obsessed with this, with the opportunity before him, he couldn’t let it slip by.

　　Whether there’s a date or not, swing the pole anyway!

　　If he’s an immortal, it’s a stroke of luck; if not, just drag him out and chop him up for the dogs.

Chapter 3: Shoot You in the Face with Concentrated Sulfuric Acid