Chapter 78

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Chapter 78: Buka

With a sharp crack, a whip lashed out quickly, sending a stone flying through the air. Baletaberke, the Kazakh man accompanying Lin Mo to the town, angrily shouted. At that moment, several children rushed out from an alley, yelling and throwing stones at Lin Mo with all their might.

The boy Lin Mo had caught quickly seized the opportunity, kicking him hard in the leg. He pulled away desperately, and with a tear in his clothes, the boy’s shoulder suffered a painful rip. Tears welled up in his eyes, but without any hesitation, he darted into the nearest alley and vanished.

Lin Mo ended up holding only a piece of torn fabric in his hand, completely ignored the stones thrown at him, and did not chase after the boy. This little rascal was full of tricks and even had accomplices for cover; he was truly cunning.

Baletaberke flicked his whip, showing that herders had an innate skill for using whips. He managed to knock away several stones, yet a few still headed toward Lin Mo. But Lin Mo showed no intention of dodging; the stones zipped past him without hitting him.

To Lin Mo, those stones seemed to move incredibly slowly and could never touch him; therefore, he couldn’t be bothered to dodge. This was the instinct for evasion and attack of a Dragon Knight and pilot—cannon, missiles, and magical attacks were much fiercer than thrown stones.

"Forget it, Baletaberke! Nothing was stolen, right?" Lin Mo dropped the torn fabric and held back the rushing Baletaberke, watching the group of kids, who had suddenly appeared to aid their accomplice, scatter.

Profanity in Kazakh was rare and often borrowed from other languages, so Baletaberke could only repeat a few phrases in his frustration. Even Lin Mo, who didn’t understand Kazakh, could grasp their meanings.

"These little thieves! They’ll grow up to be wolves that eat people!"

The prairie herders deeply despised those who thrived on the toil of others, stealing their hard-earned efforts. Baletaberke spat angrily on the ground.

Lin Mo had to look for others and relied on Baletaberke to translate. To his surprise, the seemingly honest grocery store owner didn’t respond eagerly to Baletaberke’s questions. Instead, he held up his fingers and rubbed them together.

This gesture was an international sign for money!

Damn, even asking for directions costs money!

Lin Mo pulled out a ten yuan bill. In Central Asia and the areas around China, the yuan was still hard currency.

The grocery store owner shot a glance at the bill in Lin Mo’s hand but subtly waved his fingers—it wasn’t enough!

Lin Mo took out another ten yuan bill, but the owner shook his head again!

Angered, Lin Mo took out a bright red hundred yuan note and slapped it down on the grocery store owner’s hand. He didn’t even wait for Baletaberke to translate and pointed directly at the store owner: "If this isn’t enough, I’ll tear down your shop!"

What kind of person wants to swindle someone over something as trivial as a direction? Indeed, people are hard to read.

With Lin Mo’s expression and actions, combined with the intimidating presence of a Kazakh man acting fierce, the grocery store owner quickly understood. In a chaotic town like this, running a store, he certainly knew when to stop. He swiftly snatched the hundred yuan from Lin Mo’s hand, speaking in a strange accent of Kazakh as he waved his hand and sketched out directions for Lin Mo and Baletaberke.

As long as the party on the other side wasn’t too weak, business here wouldn’t involve fraud. The grocery store owner provided reasonably detailed answers, even slobbering while drawing a rough map of the town on the counter, ensuring that Lin Mo’s hundred yuan wasn’t wasted.

Following the grocery store owner’s directions, Lin Mo and Baletaberke found a small courtyard surrounded by a broken earthen wall at the edge of the town. The low wall allowed a view of everything in the courtyard, which looked dilapidated and rudimentary, devoid of livestock, with a half-open rickety door.

Lin Mo mused that this informant’s life must be tough. He knocked on the courtyard door and called out loudly, "Aji, Aji! Are you there?"

It seemed there was no one home; he received no response. He gently pushed the courtyard door, which didn’t seem locked. With a little force, the door creaked open.

Lin Mo handed the reins of the chestnut horse to Baletaberke and entered alone while continuing to call out.

Strangely, there was no reply. Logically, someone should have emerged to exchange secret signals with him; how could there not even be a sound? Lin Mo felt that there was someone inside, as he sensed a presence through the breathing vibrations.

He reached for the door to the house, which, like the courtyard door, was not locked. A peculiar odor emanated from inside, causing Lin Mo to instinctively cover his nose.

Perhaps the sound of the door being pushed open made the breathing inside speed up involuntarily. He walked toward the source of the breath, passing through the hall and into a cramped backyard, heading straight for a kitchen with a chimney; the faint breathing was coming from there.

Thanks to a Dragon Knight’s keen senses, Lin Mo discovered that someone still occupied this seemingly abandoned and uninhabited courtyard.

He pushed open the kitchen door and saw a thin figure huddling beside a dirt stove amidst a pile of broken, dry firewood. The clothes and limbs revealed slight trembling. As the door opened, the sunlight flooded into the kitchen, and Lin Mo clearly heard a suppressed gasp from behind the dusty woodpile.

"Come out! I see you!" Lin Mo casually leaned against the dilapidated wooden door frame, watching the firewood pile.

A frightened young face peeked out from behind the pile, locking eyes with Lin Mo.

"Ah! You!" The boy’s face showed surprise when he saw Lin Mo, and Lin Mo was equally astonished. It was oddly familiar; he suspected this boy was the same little thief who had just stolen from him.

"You!" Lin Mo also expressed his surprise. What a coincidence! The tear in the boy’s shirt was from when he escaped earlier.

"What do you want? Did you take the wallet back?" The boy, clearly terrified, lost his balance and fell to the ground, hurriedly scrambling away from Lin Mo, trying to shrink into a corner, ignoring the dirt on him.

Lin Mo chuckled; this dusty little fellow was as timid as a rabbit. He smiled, crouched down, and raised his hands, saying, "Haha, don’t be afraid, I’m not here to find you. What are you doing here?"

"This is my home!" The boy sniffled, wiping his nose with a grimy hand. His brown eyes held fear and wariness as he stared at Lin Mo, instinctively groping for anything nearby that he could use to protect himself, even if it was just a blade of grass.

"Your home? Who is Aji to you?" Lin Mo tried to connect this boy to the informant Aji, who was short, chubby, and had small, squinty eyes, but he found no resemblance between Aji and this foreign little boy.

Lin Mo forgot he himself was a foreigner here.

"He is my father!" The boy relaxed upon hearing Lin Mo mention "Aji," his anxiety easing up considerably since Lin Mo didn’t seem to be an enemy.

"Your father? Where is Aji? I’m here to find him; we agreed to meet here. Where is he?" Lin Mo was shocked. How could this ugly little man Aji possibly have such a child? Was it a genetic mutation?

"My father is dead!" The boy’s eyes suddenly turned red, and tears rolled down his cheeks.

"What about your mother?" Lin Mo remembered Aji also had a Uyghur wife; this place shouldn’t look so uninhabited.

"She’s dead too; she was killed!" Lin Mo’s words seemed to touch a painful spot for the boy, who could not hold back his tears any longer, crying heartily. His dirt-covered hands smeared his face even more, turning it into a mask of filth.

"Killed?!" Lin Mo was astonished. How could this happen? Just a few days since the plan was in motion, and there hadn’t been any news about the informant being in danger—why did he find out the informant had already suffered an accident as soon as he arrived?

What on earth happened here?

"When did it happen?" Lin Mo stood up and approached Aji’s son, lifting him from the ground and brushing off the dirt on his clothes. He asked gently.

"Half a month ago, a group of people broke into our home. My mother tried to block them outside; my father hid me away and was dragged off by them. My mother also disappeared. The next day, Uncle Batel Khan’s horse team found my father and mother’s bodies outside the town. Boohoo…" The boy’s face was streaked with tears and dirt.

"Enough crying. What’s your name?" Lin Mo suddenly remembered he hadn’t asked the boy’s name. However, the unexpected death of the informant made him feel that this operation would not be simple. He needed to contact the Intelligence Group’s Twin Stars as soon as possible to report the situation.

Having suddenly lost his parents, the boy was highly wary of everyone and had a strong sense of self-protection. However, upon hearing Lin Mo speak his father’s name and communicate with him gently, the boy’s guard dropped drastically, and he obediently revealed, "My name is Buka!"

"Without your parents, how do you survive?" Lin Mo looked at the dark, thin boy, who seemed to have not bathed or eaten properly for a long time, and recalled his childhood—his struggle at a garbage heap exuding a foul odor in a small city in another world, a frail figure searching desperately for food or grappling with wild dogs for scraps of meat on a bone.

"Just by…" Buka’s face turned red with difficulty. He paused his tears and, with a choked voice, said, "By stealing a bit of food; and relying on Trelik, Gamanbay, and Tursen, who help each other out. Their parents are dead too."