Chapter 183: Coming To America!

Chapter 183: Coming To America!

North America, The United Kingdom of America, The Royal Capital Boston, Virginia...

Yeah, if you were from my last Earth and you actually knew exactly where my commercial plane was landing, you would throw absolute curses and vile insults at the structural atrocity that is this current world's geography. It makes absolutely no sense compared to the world maps I grew up memorizing.

Let me break down this bizarre political layout a bit so you can visualize the scale of what I was dealing with. First of all, the entire landmass of North America is split into just thirteen massive States that completely cover what my last Earth knew as Mexico, the United States, Canada, and the entire freezing expanse of Alaska.

Second, the individual state of Virginia covers from where the classic state originally did, but it stretches all the way up through the northern territories to meet where my past life's Canadian border used to sit. The resulting thirteen states are absolutely gargantuan in total land area compared to the ones from my previous existence.

Just south of Virginia lies the equally massive state of Florida, which starts all the way up at North Carolina and stretches continuously southwest all the way to the edge of Texas. That means only two of the thirteen states successfully take up an entire quarter of my past life's United States.

My current world's version of Boston is actually situated exactly where my last life's Washington DC stood on the map. No such man as George Washington ever served as a president in this timeline, and the reason for that is incredibly simple.

This nation operates as a true Kingdom, governed directly by an active Royal Family that steps in to handle the duties of the President. They do maintain a functioning State Government system that looks somewhat similar to my last life's USA, but the common citizens do not actually vote in the President.

They are only allowed to elect the local leaders of the thirteen states. So oddly enough, the Kingdom possesses some basic form of elected government, it just operates strictly under the ultimate authority of the Royal Family.

I have mentioned the strange geopolitical dynamics before, but America has only managed to advance in culture and technology over the last few hundred years due to strict treaties signed with Eurasia. Consequently, even though the citizens here possess modern smartphones, advanced computers, and baseline technology, it is still cosmetically a bit of a cultural mess in the style of my last life's memories.

An immediate example of this is the fact that the daily dress of everyday North Americans is an absolute mess of Wild West gunfighter gear, Prohibition-era gangster suits, and flashy 1980s neon attire, all blended together in a single crowd. The chaotic style serves to show off an individual's distinct family background, the specific State they hail from, and the cultural divide between Urban and Suburban living.

This exact aesthetic clash was the entire reason my soon-to-be wife, Kim, had specifically dressed in her heavy cowgirl boots, tight denim jeans, and a wide-brimmed stetson hat to visit her hometown. She wanted to ensure she would not look like a complete foreigner like me and my two lethal martial arts students walking beside her.

Yes, my spoken English sounds slightly different from the locals here, carrying a distinct accent that contrasts with theirs the same way someone with a British accent sounds entirely different from an American Southern drawl on my first Earth.

Mirroring the lawless vibes of the Wild West and classic 1980s crime movies, lethal firearms are absolutely everywhere you look. Now, carrying a concealed weapon is still a major legal no-no without specialized government permits, but if you strap a gun directly to your belt so it remains completely visible, the act is perfectly legal.

Yeah, you might ask if there is really a functional difference between the two laws? The answer to that is a resounding, massive yes.

America is not deeply invested into traditional martial arts like Eurasia, the Japan Empire, and the China Empire. Yes, the locals still participate in Boxing and heavy Wrestling, but the public views those disciplines more as a casual hobby, a form of exercise, or pure television entertainment.

Guns are the true American martial arts. In fact, it is still completely legal under federal law to challenge someone to a traditional gun duel to the death, provided both participating parties explicitly agree to the terms in front of legal witnesses.

Now, a genuinely strange firearms restriction they enforce here states that automatic and semi-automatic weapons are not allowed for common citizens under any circumstances. Only traditional revolvers are common and legal for everyday carry, alongside standard pump-action or bolt-action long rifles.

Only the active Police forces, the Military, and the Royal Secret Service are permitted to legally operate semi-automatic and fully automatic firearms. This specific limitation allows the federal government to completely out-gun the bad guys on paper.

Well, the criminal street gangs still manage to get their hands on plenty of illegal automatic weapons anyway, which is exactly how it worked back in my past life.

I find myself thanking the version of me from my past life every single day for giving me both high-level Martial Arts and elite firearm mastery as baseline life skills. Sadly for the local chumps that will inevitably challenge me on this trip, I am currently ranked as a Grandmaster in Firearms.

With the added benefits of Gun-Fu, these unsuspecting guys won't ever expect a man to come at them dual-wielding pistols with pinpoint precision.

On a side note, my high-tech HK P30s were successfully brought over into the country illegally ahead of time, meaning I currently have my Taurus Judge revolver clipped openly at my right side. I had to resort to this because my Eurasian carry and concealment permits are not recognized as legal within this jurisdiction.

I loaded the heavy cylinder with five rounds of devastating .45 Colt ammunition. Most common shooters would absolutely refuse to carry a heavy, bulky hand-cannon like mine around all day, but my biologically enhanced body is more than able to support the weight daily without a hint of fatigue.

Now, just like in my previous world, the innate ability to accurately predict shooting trajectories and fluidly dodge oncoming gunfire seems entirely mystical to non-practitioners. When most common Americans see us move out of the way of a bullet, they immediately assume we have mystic Chi running through our lifelines like Cultivators in fantasy web novels.

Though there are absolutely no inner magical powers in my past world or this current one, when regular humans cannot logically explain things and feel their eyes are seeing the absolute impossible, it automatically becomes labeled as witchcraft or cultivation. But funnily enough, we Masters and Grandmasters never actually bother to correct the untrained masses in their delusional thoughts.

What about traditional swords and handheld close-quarters weapons? They are perfectly legal to carry around, and the Americans still actively maintain a culture of Fencing and tactical Swordplay, albeit using more traditional Western-style blades.

Now, the absolute most backwards and ridiculous law the Americans enforce here dictating combat gear mirrors their stance on automatic weapons. Bulletproof clothing is classified as a highly restricted, government-controlled product.

Yeah, you read that right. The legal system finds it utterly despicable and cowardly for a person to wear protective clothing that defeats the entire sacred purpose of an honorable street duel. Go fucking figure, right? Thank the Imperial Dragon we possess the high-tier reflexes to simply dodge the bullets instead.

The local music and entertainment industry feels frozen in a time loop spanning from the late 1980s to the early 2000s. They still do not have massive corporate entities like Amazon or Google, and you won't find electric cars or solar-powered homes anywhere around here like in my last life.

It is strictly fossil fuels or nothing baby, and the heavy smell of exhaust fills the air.

Their cars are built big, loud, and proud over here. Iconic American brands like Ford, Dodge, and Chevrolet form the absolute backbone of daily transportation.

The technology has not progressed anywhere near the level of self-driving vehicles, and most native Americans view the hands-on hobby of auto-mechanics as a massive source of personal and family pride.

Whenever other advanced nations try publicly dissing the United Kingdom of America for refusing to transition over to electric power, the locals proudly double down to tell us and anyone else listening off.

"When you tree-huggers can successfully fly a massive passenger jet across the ocean using nothing but solar power, then we will sit down and listen to your retarded thuggery nonsense," they mock with loud laughs. "In fact, try running your electric car's AC and stereo all day long in the desert heat and see how far you can actually drive cross-country, ha-ha!"

America, due to not running through the exact same historical timeline as my old home, is incredibly loud and aggressively proud. This version of America never experienced a devastating Civil War, never instituted systemic Slavery, and only participated in a single World War.

With absolutely no historical records of any Yellow Emperors to my knowledge ever living or ruling on this soil, they are still not anywhere close to my last life's nation.

Although, after recently learning about the secretive existence of the Black Dragon, I am not entirely convinced that America didn't host at least one past reincarnation of me somewhere in its timeline. That whole narrative about the Black Dragon aiding early America might just be an elaborate historical cover to hide the forgotten existence of an American Yellow Emperor.

I think the exact moment I get completely unpacked at our destination, I will ask Valentine to dig through the national archives to look for any historical American men who fathered over fifty children. Yeah, why do I instinctively think that tracking down massive bloodlines is the absolute best way to find my own past tracks?

And finally, there are a few minor cultural points to make note of regarding this America versus my previous one. American Football is still completely massive, treated more like an official state religion than a casual sport. Baseball remains the undisputed American pastime for the other half of the year when football season is not actively running.

Interestingly, the copied parody of a famous fried chicken restaurant chain in these states is legally called King Fried Chicken (KFC). This occurred because the wealthy Tang Family flatly refused to sell the international rights to use the name Kung-Fu Chicken (KFC) to the Americans.

Furthermore, traditional Horseback Riding is treated as an actual, mandatory high school class that every single student is required to learn to graduate.

Well, this massive list of cultural trivia was everything I was actively reviewing inside my own head while Lan, Hinata, and I stood patiently in a long, winding line. We were waiting to get our personal travel gear and official documents examined by the local immigration and customs officers.

"Next!" a booming voice called out.

I was promptly waved over to the designated men's line for my official check-in. Lan and Hinata had entered the separate lines reserved for women, which were moving much faster due to there being significantly more women than men traveling today.

Men in America are viewed as a bit more rare and special than they are in Eurasia, receiving a different level of societal attention.

In fact, in both Japan and China, men are also viewed as vastly more important to the community, purely due to the demographic rarity of men compared to the massive female population. The only two major countries in the entire world that treat men and women with absolute social equality are Eurasia and South America.

What, you want to know why I have never really talked about Africa in my journals? That is because the continent of Africa currently belongs to absolutely no nation.

It exists as a massive, untamed wildlife preserve, packed to the brim with the world's deadliest and most monstrous animals to ever walk the earth, a deadly cradle of life.

Many times throughout modern history have the other big global superpowers tried to claim African territory, but between the highly intelligent Dire Animals roaming the plains and the fact that most native plants and insects are highly toxic and venomous, no one wants to live there.

Violent proxy wars are still fought on the outer borders on occasion, usually near the safer coastal beaches, but inland... Not even I want to risk going into that death trap.

An incredibly overweight security personnel dressed in a tight black uniform looked up at me with an expression of complete, uncaring boredom. He reached out a meaty hand, grunting as he asked for my official passport.

He glanced carelessly through the crisp, completely unused pages of the book, seeing immediately that this was my first time traveling outside my home borders. He tapped his pen against the desk, his eyes narrowing slightly as he locked his gaze onto mine.

"Mr Tang, what weapons do you have to declare, and what is the exact purpose for your visit to the UK?" he asked, his voice drawling out the words.

I unclipped both of my heavy-ass revolvers from my waist and placed them down with a metallic clatter into the grey plastic security tray to be closely inspected. At the same time, another uniform-clad officer stepped up to run a handheld scanner across my body to check for any hidden guns while I calmly explained my situation to the man at the desk.

"Kim Smith is my fiance, and we are getting married here in America," I stated, keeping my tone perfectly relaxed as the scanner buzzed past my ribs. "I will also file for dual-citizenship after that, that is all."

The customs agent froze mid-motion, his eyes widening in sudden realization as my words clicked in his head, finally connecting exactly who I was and the massive status of the woman I was marrying.

"Ah! You are that Tang!" he gasped, his bored demeanor vanishing instantly as he stared at me with newfound respect. "From the big 4 clans in Eurasia, and Kim Smith from the Smith and Wesson company?! Sorry Mr Tang, I did not recognize you at first."

The overweight guard let out a cheerful chuckle, a warm smile breaking across his face as he hastily reached for his heavy ink pad. "I saw you doing that movie interview a while back, I am a fan of that show, well, one of my wives is, he-he! Welcome to the United Kingdom, Mr Tang!"

Thunk! The heavy rubber stamp slammed down hard onto the crisp page of my passport, officially declaring that I was allowed to enter the airport proper without another moment of delay.

I smoothly walked out of the security line and stepped into the main terminal, adjusting a sleek pair of sunglasses over my eyes to block out the bright fluorescent lights overhead. Dressed in my casual bluejeans, black leather boots, and a crisp white button-down shirt, my two heavy revolvers sat proudly on my hips like a real old-school gunfighter.

Kim, who had managed to clear the separate women's line before me, came rushing over with a brilliant, relieved smile on her face when she saw I had not been held up by the authorities. She eagerly wrapped her slender arms around my elbow, holding onto me tight as she leaned her body against my side.

"I called dad, and he sent the limousine to get us in about 30 minutes," she whispered excitedly, her green eyes shining under her stetson hat. "We will then go to my childhood home on the beach."

"Seems Lan and Hinata are still getting their documents examined," I murmured, scanning the crowded security checkpoint area while Kim held my arm. "Probably due to the many international trips the two have made in the past. Oh, here they come."

The two foreign ladies instantly drew a wave of lingering stares and hushed whispers from the surrounding crowd as they gracefully walked out of the terminal toward Kim and me. Hinata, still standing tall in her traditional wooden geta shoes, gave me a respectful nod as she extended her hands to return my weapon.

"Sorry Sensei, they wanted to know why I had three swords, so I was given a bit of an issue," she explained softly, handing me my sword with a look of quiet apology. "Till I told them I was your student, then they let me pass."

Lan gave a sharp nod of agreement, stepping up beside Hinata to recount her own brief struggle with the local border control agents. "And the woman inspecting me was suspicious due to me being from the China Empire," Lan told me, her dark eyes flashing with cold annoyance at the memory. "I had to assure her I was a resident of Eurasia, so she had to look in her computer."

"The car will be here shortly, so let us get our luggage," I suggested, cutting through the tension as I took the weapon from Hinata.

Holding the legendary Black Dragon sword securely inside its custom shoulder-case, I slung the heavy strap onto my back before reaching down to take Kim's warm hand in mine as we walked away.

Down at the crowded baggage-claim area, the heavy rotating conveyor belt hummed loudly as our various travel bags were smoothly retrieved and picked off the line by Lan and myself. I was perfectly fine with Hinata using her lethal sword to defend herself in a life-or-death fight, but I absolutely refused to let a pregnant woman lift heavy things under my watch.

I personally made sure she only had a lightweight piece of rolling luggage to guide through the terminal.

As my small group of four turned around to finally leave the baggage area behind, the distinct, rhythmic clicking sound of a heavy metal box rolling across the tile floor echoed from behind us.

"Excuse me, Mr Tang, but you forgot your bags!" a sharp female voice called out, cutting through the ambient noise of the airport terminal.

I turned around to see a beautiful, striking black-haired American woman dressed in the official airport security uniform, effortlessly pulling a rectangular metal chest equipped with heavy-duty wheels. She brought the chest to a smooth stop right in front of me and bowed her head slightly, her fingers casually brushing over a delicate, hidden pin shaped like a crimson phoenix before she gave me a quick wink.

"Leader, here is your pre-sent gear, and here is a smartphone from the local branch with all of our names and contact details, if you need anything from us," she reported in a low, respectful murmur. "Please enjoy your stay, Leader. I am Wanda Taylor. Be safe sir."

"Thank you Wanda, good work," I replied smoothly, slipping the specialized phone into my pocket while maintaining a perfectly calm expression.

She did not linger a single second after delivering the goods, immediately pivoting on her heel to rush back to her standard security duties before drawing any unwanted attention from her supervisor.

What, did you think I would just walk blind into a foreign country? Of course I had thoroughly planned ahead for this exact day, ensuring we successfully indoctrinated loyal sleeper members directly within the Boston framework.

My elite Fire Birds organization was currently getting a solid foothold inside the Japan Empire as well, establishing a massive network for the trials ahead. Meanwhile, back at the mansion, Mei and Lucy are actively building me a specialized shadow force entirely separate from the Fire Birds over in China.

In a matter of three short years, my personal influence is going mostly world wide, and no one will be able to stand in my way.

I had even executed a beautifully ruthless dick move before leaving, sending the authorities in the China Empire a completely falsified, meticulous file regarding the identity of the Fake Yellow Emperor. I am actively convincing the Chinese government that the boy is the actual, legitimate threat, ensuring his life won't be smooth for a single second as endless waves of royal assassins go after the Traditional Li Faction.

Yeah, I am an absolute dick, and I have zero shame using both of my sworn enemies to completely slaughter each-other while I watch from the sidelines.

Is it ethically wrong for a grown man to send the bloodthirsty enemies of the Li clan to violently trouble a clueless thirteen-year-old boy? Sure, it absolutely would be, if your entire biological family had not been brutally slaughtered to the last person by that kid's power-hungry father.

The bastard wants his spoiled son to be the revered Yellow Emperor so incredibly bad, then he can gladly have the target painted directly onto his back.

I highly doubt the current Emperor of China can even get past the layers of guards to touch that teenaged, inflated ego child anyway, so my move is brilliant. Really, I am just successfully diverting all global eyes and tactical attention entirely away from my own operations.

And the real, master-level trick that I am pulling from the shadows? I am skillfully manipulating the Central Government to fight the powerful Emperor of China for me, and when the dust finally settles from their bloody war, I will personally step in to take his head and execute his entire family.

I will completely destabilize their entire nation, creating the perfect vacuum for...

Well, all of that chaotic bloodletting is a grand plan reserved exclusively for the future. Lan Chow suddenly felt the dark intensity of my gaze shifting over her at that exact moment, causing her to offer me a silent, knowing nod of absolute loyalty.

Yeah, there was no turning back now; I am playing an incredibly big hand on a global chessboard, and the game has officially begun.