"elder brother?"
Upon hearing Mu Xiaoxi's words, Lao Mo was slightly taken aback, as if he had been frozen in place for a moment.
He slowly lowered his head, his gaze falling on the dagger he was gripping tightly in his hand. His eyes became somewhat unfocused, and for a moment he lost all movement.
No matter how many difficulties, obstacles, or life-or-death crises he faced, he always firmly chose to hold them in his hands.
For Lao Mo, this was not just a weapon, but also a source of spiritual sustenance and strength.
Old Mo is not a native Chinese. He comes from the distant Southeast Asia, a region with countless slums, and he grew up by struggling in one of those corners.
Once upon a time, although this land was poor and backward, people's lives were simple and fulfilling.
Every day, they work at sunrise and rest at sunset. Although they lack material possessions, they have a peaceful and serene heart.
However, as time went on, the arrival of some Chinese people completely changed everything here.
Under the influence of these people, the once peaceful slums gradually transformed into a golden area in Southeast Asia.
On the surface, the economy seems to have developed rapidly, but in reality, endless darkness and evil are hidden behind it.
Guns and ammunition began to proliferate, drug trafficking became increasingly rampant, and various violent incidents occurred frequently.
The once harmonious and peaceful living environment has vanished, replaced by fear, despair, and endless fighting.
It was a dark and stormy night, and the city streets were filled with an atmosphere of tension and danger. Suddenly, a fierce firefight broke out, bullets flew, and shouts of battle rose and fell.
In the midst of this chaos, young Mo witnessed his parents being killed by stray bullets.
In an instant, he went from a child with a warm family to a helpless orphan wandering the streets.
In the difficult days that followed, hunger, cold, and fear constantly plagued Old Mo. However, fate did not seem to intend to completely abandon this poor child. One day, when Old Mo was dizzy from hunger and shivering in a street corner, a boy not much older than him appeared before him.
"I'll be your older brother."
Looking at the emaciated old Mo, the man felt a pang of pity. So he took him in and took him on his adventures.
The older brother cared deeply for Lao Mo, not only teaching him various survival skills but also personally instructing him on how to use weapons to protect himself. Whether it was a sharp dagger or a cold gun, Lao Mo gradually mastered their use under the older brother's careful guidance.
As time went by, Lao Mo grew stronger and stronger, and that older brother generously shared everything he knew with him.
In particular, the older brother handed over their only pistol to Old Mo without hesitation, instructing him to keep it safe and use it for self-defense in critical moments.
The eldest brother himself was simply holding a seemingly ordinary dagger.
"A dagger is faster than a gun, and it's also more aesthetically pleasing. If you want to become a great villain, you have to have your own aesthetic sense!"
Although the eldest brother wielded the dagger with unparalleled skill, everyone knew that its effectiveness was limited when facing the dark muzzle of an enemy's gun.
Therefore, his older brother was easily shot dead.
When he arrived, all that remained warm were a blood-stained dagger and a blood-stained note that read: "The gun is fast and accurate!"
Thus, this dagger, which seemed to carry his elder brother's deep resentment, became the only thing he could rely on.
Later, when Lin Yaodong came to Southeast Asia in search of new sources of goods, he accidentally discovered Lao Mo and brought him back to China.
That's when Lao Mo began his truly magnificent life.
They faced...
"No, who asked you?"
As Lao Mo recounted his past experiences to himself, Mu Xiaoxi frowned and, without anyone noticing, reached out and tightly gripped the dagger pressed against her neck.
At this moment, her once beautiful and charming face was now filled with undisguised disgust.
Just then, as if waking from a dream, Lao Mo finally realized his loss of composure.
He abruptly stopped speaking, lowered his head, and said sincerely and slightly apologetically, "Oh, I'm sorry."
After saying this, Lao Mo took a deep breath, adjusted his state, and refocused his attention on the task at hand.
Goodbye, hmm?
He tightened his grip on the dagger with both hands, trying to make a quick move to complete the operation.
However, to his utter astonishment, no matter how hard he tried, the dagger remained motionless, as if it had been frozen in place!
Old Mo revealed a rather interesting look, which quickly vanished: "You're quite strong, but you'll hurt your hands doing that."
As he spoke, his eyes turned cold, and he gripped the hilt of the dagger tightly with both hands, beginning to twist it forcefully.
He wanted to spin the sharp blade in Mu Xiaoxi's hand, turning those uncivilized hands into a bloody mess.
"Um?"
Even with the advantage of his lever arm, he still couldn't move an inch. Mu Xiaoxi's fair little hands were locked on the dagger, like a pair of pincers.
Moreover, he could vaguely sense a powerful counterforce coming from where Mu Xiaoxi was holding the dagger, as if she was continuously applying pressure to the middle of the dagger, trying to break this incredibly hard dagger in two!
Thinking of this, Old Mo actually chuckled, breaking his usual image as a cold-blooded killer: "Little girl, this dagger of mine is made of stainless steel."
For Lao Mo, the most practical thing is the best. Although this dagger is not valuable, its sturdiness is unquestionable.
Oh, this dagger certainly wasn't left by his older brother; that thing was a cheap one, and he threw it away a long time ago.
"Crunch."
But before his smile could fade, accompanied by a strange sound, his hand felt a sense of relief.
When I looked up, all I could see was the hilt of the knife.
His prized dagger, like a wafer, was snapped in two in Mu Xiaoxi's hand.
What's even more terrifying is that there wasn't a single mark on Mu Xiaoxi's hands.
"Bang."
The dagger fell to the ground, and Mu Xiaoxi kicked it aside.
Seeing this, Lao Mo coughed twice and withdrew his wide eyes: "Actually, my forte is still fists and feet."
"You didn't bring a gun? That's great."
Mu Xiaoxi smiled sweetly at Lao Mo.
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