In a foreign country, especially when the language was unintelligible, finding someone he could communicate with was damn difficult. So, seeing the young man's terrified expression, Chen Mo merely sneered inwardly.
At the very least, he would wait until he had finished talking, learned everything about this place, and handled what came next before dealing with this young man. For no other reason than that this fellow was Chinese, yet he was doing this sort of goddamn nonsense. If Chen Mo didn't send him to die, he'd be a ghost.
The young man trembled all over as he stared at Chen Mo in terror, afraid that Chen Mo would wave his hand again. If he had known what Chen Mo was thinking, he probably wouldn't have said anything and would simply have waited to die.
He would die whether he spoke or not, so he might as well keep quiet. Still, he truly couldn't understand why a local Siamese native didn't speak the Siamese language but instead spoke such fluent Chinese. It was downright strange.
"Tell me about the situation in this village. Think carefully before you speak. Otherwise, you should know what the consequences will be." As Chen Mo spoke, he meaningfully glanced at the others lying on the ground.
The young man's eyes tightened, and his expression became even more terrified. He stammered, "B-Because I haven't been here long, only a little over half a year, I can only tell you what I know."
"Speak." Chen Mo nodded.
Having received permission, the young man began rambling incoherently, explaining everything he could about the village. His account was scattered and confusing, but after filling in the blanks, Chen Mo understood most of it.
The entire village was far from legitimate. Or rather, it had not originally been a village