Mo Wu's voice had improved somewhat, no longer as hoarse as before, even carrying a light and gentle warmth. But the man was already terrified, tears and snot streaming down his face, and at the same time, a foul smell wafted up from below.,Mo Wu's gaze swept over him with a look of disdain.,To live, to survive, endless killing and slaughter day and night have left his hands riddled with wounds, ugly and scarred.。