Am I not dead?

The thought fleetingly crossed Jack’s mind. But he quickly dismissed it as the vague sensation lingered—the uncertainty of someone just waking up. Could it be that he had died once already?

The loud, chaotic noise around him, combined with an overwhelming heat, caused Jack’s body to instinctively shiver. The rhythmic sound of steam turbines roared, accompanied by the trembling of the ground. Jack winced, faintly hearing voices shouting—were they speaking English?

“Careful!”

“Don’t go near that blasphemous thing!”

“Shoot it!”

The final command jolted Jack’s instincts. Before he even opened his eyes, his body moved swiftly from where he had been. Perhaps, as an assassin who rarely relied on firearms, Jack had unlocked his body’s full potential. In just an instant, he was gone, evading whatever was flying toward him.

Then, Jack opened his eyes.

A barrage of bullets rained down on the spot he had stood moments ago, shattering bricks and scattering debris everywhere. A normal person would have been torn to shreds if caught in that hail of gunfire.

This had once been a small factory, but after suffering heavy destruction, it had lost its original form. Strangely, Jack could see test tubes rolling across the floor, peculiar chemical instruments scattered about, and a magical circle exactly where he had been standing.

Alchemy? The thought briefly surfaced in Jack’s mind before he sighed and looked up at the group who had attacked him.

“What is this?”

Jack muttered, his eyes filled with curiosity. One, two, three... three colossal steam-powered machines, resembling armored suits, were aiming their weapons at him. The suits, crafted from gleaming metallic material, shone in pristine shades of gold, white, and silver. On the shoulder plates of each suit, an eye symbol had been etched.

The clashing of metal echoed with every movement they made, accompanied by bursts of air escaping from the exhaust pipes as the steam engines roared to life. A constant whirring sound filled the space, while thick, black smoke began to shroud the surroundings.

The three figures fixed hostile glares on Jack. One of them spoke, his voice brimming with anger and laced with heightened vigilance:

"Keep firing! Don’t stop!"

Jack glanced at the man and responded with a polite smile. Jack rarely displayed anger—after all, the words "assassin" and "short-tempered" didn’t typically go together. Instead, he replied tactfully:

"Sir, I have no idea what just happened, but perhaps we’re misunderstanding something here?"

Click!

"We can discuss that after handing you over to the Church!"

Clearly, these people - devoted followers of some deity weren’t exactly friendly. Rather than responding with words, they demonstrated their "goodwill" by aiming an array of guns at Jack. Heaven only knew where those steam-powered suits hid all those weapons, as glimmers of metal began to emerge beneath the arms of the machines.

The man closest to Jack, the older one who had been shouting suddenly activated a chainsaw on his right arm. The deafening roar of the steam engine filled the air. Jack’s smile froze, and he shook his head slightly.

It was clear they had no intention of talking.

With sharp reflexes and quick thinking, Jack’s eyes scanned the battlefield. Strewn across the ground were crimson-clad corpses, seemingly the remains of those who had been conducting some ritual before being slaughtered by the three steam-armored men. Jack’s gaze settled on the body of what appeared to be a high priest. Spotting a knife in the dead man’s hand, Jack immediately sprang into action.

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Given his current state, Jack estimated he could resolve the situation in five seconds.

An assassin can unleash their body’s full potential.

Boom!

A whirlwind erupted as Jack moved at a speed far beyond human capability. But the three men showed no signs of panic. Without hesitation, they opened fire in a wide arc ahead of them. It seemed they understood that when they couldn’t keep up with their target’s speed, indiscriminate gunfire was their best option.

“Stay alert! Don’t underestimate this demon!”

The old man shouted, a testament to their experience—they adapted quickly even when faced with unforeseen circumstances.

But it was too late.

If the men couldn’t keep up, neither could their guns. Bullets might be fast, but when the barrel couldn’t track a target, they were just worthless hunks of metal. A weak shooter rendered even the explosive power of gunpowder and the destructive force of bullets useless.

Though the room was large, their initial proximity worked in Jack’s favor. In the blink of an eye, he grabbed the knife from the fallen priest and lunged at the nearest man. Jack gripped the knife tightly and slashed at the man’s face - the only part of his body not protected by metal.

Clang!

The metallic sound of impact rang out. While the closest man couldn’t react in time, the old man did. The chainsaw roared ferociously, slicing Jack’s knife into shards.

This won’t be easy.

The thought flickered in Jack’s mind. Using his incredible speed, he grasped the broken hilt and hurled it at the unfortunate soldier. Perhaps the man dodged the first strike, but not this time.

After all, Jack excelled at throwing knives.

Thud!

Blood splattered as a scream of agony echoed throughout the room. Even the shattered knife was enough to inflict excruciating pain. The old man furrowed his brows, swinging his chainsaw furiously at Jack:

“Attack together!”

The two men behind him understood immediately. They replaced their guns with chainsaws and charged at Jack, slashing wildly. Though fanatical, their precision and composure in battle earned Jack’s grudging respect.

With his superhuman speed, Jack’s pupils dilated as he dodged the first chainsaw by leaning back and leaped over the second. He darted toward the shards of his broken knife. Narrowing his eyes, he launched himself at the old man, his face twisting into a demonic expression as he snarled:

“Die!”

Jack’s terrifying expression seemed to work. The old man squinted, summoning all his strength to strike at Jack. Naturally, this was exactly what Jack wanted. He smiled as his hand reached toward the chainsaw.

Clang!

Sparks flew between Jack’s hand and the spinning blade. The force sent Jack’s body hurtling toward a nearby window. He raised his elbow and smashed through the glass, effortlessly escaping the building.

The man froze, realizing that Jack’s terrifying charge and savage expression were a ploy to bait him into striking the shard of the knife concealed in Jack’s palm. Furious, the old man let out a deafening roar that made Jack’s ears throb:

“Pursue the enemy! We must capture him, dead or alive! The League of Biological Advancement needs him!”

The League of Biological Advancement?

That didn’t sound promising. They’d likely dissect Jack’s body the moment they got their hands on him.

Jack let out a bitter laugh and bolted far away. Stay and fight three of them? That was out of the question. They were heavily armed, and even if only one of them had such vigilance, it would still be humiliatingly difficult for Jack to win.

Even if Jack stayed, he had no energy left. Unleashing his body’s full potential couldn’t be sustained for long. He usually couldn’t hold it for more than fifteen seconds, and if he pushed beyond that, he’d likely kill himself before anyone else did.

Jack exhaled deeply. The mobility of those armored suits wasn’t great, so, for now, he had managed to escape. Narrowing his eyes, he glanced upward, and his pupils widened in surprise.

A different world?

That was Jack’s first thought. He could recognize the city - but was this truly the place he thought it was?

A massive tower, over fifty meters tall, loomed silently. At its peak, four clock faces displayed the time, with heavy metal hour and minute hands ticking quietly to mark its passage. Jack squinted as his steps slowed.

But beside it stood towering smokestacks, ceaselessly belching thick, choking black smoke. The air was stifling, the sky dim and veiled by the oppressive haze. It was as though some unseen hand had transformed the classic, serene city in Jack’s memory into a sprawling industrial complex.

What happened here?

Jack halted, and his eyes landed on a woman.

She was tall and slender, dressed in a pale white shirt beneath a gray coat, paired with a skirt of matching color. Her beautiful face, soft brown hair, and striking blue eyes could draw anyone’s gaze. But her sharp eyes and composed demeanor exuded an aura that made Jack wary.

The demeanor of someone who can grasp countless happenings within the palm of their hand.

Indeed, as Jack approached, she casually opened a pocket watch hanging at her side. Her voice was soft and unhurried, but it carried an unwavering certainty as if nothing could alter her intentions:

“You’re earlier than I expected.”

Earlier? Was she waiting for him?

Jack stopped, his movements calm, showing no signs of hostility. He smiled faintly and spoke in a gentle tone:

“Excuse me, but do we know each other?”

“Not at all.”

The woman smiled, choosing not to answer Jack’s question directly. Instead, she offered a cryptic greeting, laced with subtle meaning:

“However, welcome to London.”