Luo You, are you running too?
At the beginning of the Wasteland, when people were desperately lacking any sense of security, Su Mo probably would have opened fire immediately.
But times had changed. Faced with such a clumsy provocation, he could still shake his head with a smile.
"Leave. I'm in a good mood today. I don't want to kill anyone."
"Are you fucking crazy—"
Bang.
A dazzling tongue of flame suddenly tore through the air with a deafening boom, landing less than ten centimeters in front of the young leader.
A clear scorch mark instantly appeared on the ground. Sparks flew in all directions, as if they would set the surrounding air ablaze.
"You—"
The young man who had spoken nearly wet himself.
The others were badly frightened as well. Their faces turned pale, and they retreated several steps despite themselves.
"Remember, this is the Wasteland. Before provoking strangers next time, think about whether you're qualified to do so." Su Mo's voice remained calm, but the warning in it made their blood run cold.
The few men crawled away, their earlier arrogance completely gone.
"Let's go. Where's your father? Take me to him."
Su Mo slipped the pistol back into the holster at his waist, only to discover that Luo Jiao had not been frightened at all. Instead, her eyes had followed his hand the entire time.
Her gaze remained fixed on the black, cold pistol. A hint of longing and stubbornness brewed within it.
For some reason, that stubbornness caused a beautiful figure to surface in Su Mo's mind.
"You want it?"
Luo Jiao froze and looked up in astonishment, only to find that Su Mo had very straightforwardly taken the pistol from its holster and handed it over without hesitation.
"Can you fire it?"
"No."
"Take it.