"Directly state what the issue is."
The Damascus Knife spun in Su Xiao's hand, its cold light sharp and chilling.
An old Mo stood up, with his back to Su Xiao, pulling up the cloth at his waist. On his lower back were bandage marks, and he directly tore off the blood-stained gauze, revealing the wound beneath.
Seeing the wound, Su Xiao's pupils constricted; he knew this wound all too well. It was caused by the 'Scorpion Mouth,' a unique weapon used by only one person, Hai Dong.
Judging by the condition of the wound, it was recent, but Hai Dong was already dead. Su Xiao had personally buried him.
Su Xiao quickly stepped forward, using the Damascus Knife in his hand to pick at a small piece of the circular wound caused by 'Scorpion Mouth,' the old Mo expressionless.
