Chapter 344

Chapter 344: A Little Note

Unfortunately, the water buffalo was utterly lifeless, with no sign of any movement. It seemed that it had died completely. Pu Zhana examined it thoroughly and found only one clear fist mark, with no traces of large-caliber bullets.

It was hard to imagine how a strong, mad buffalo could be taken down by a single left punch. Witnessing all this, Pu Zhana’s gaze towards Lin Mo changed; was the Chinese man planning to attack Thailand? To unleash such a terrifying force?

Lin Mo smiled at the approaching Thai agent and handed him a small note.

A note that read "Thank you!" elicited a more sincere smile from the Thai agent. Facing such a powerful individual, Pu Zhana felt slightly overwhelmed.

"Ah, my cow!"

A figure stumbled from the street side, throwing themselves onto the dead buffalo and weeping loudly. Their clothes looked ragged, with some visible scrapes, and they appeared to be heartbroken, looking like the buffalo’s owner.

Pai Tong believed that today must be his day of disaster. He had been rushing his buffalo to a family to plow their fields. As the world’s largest exporter of rice, Thai farmers had to rely on water buffaloes for cost-effectiveness, providing Pai Tong with some extra income as well.

But unexpectedly, as he entered a narrow alley, the buffalo seemed to have been startled or attacked, went mad, broke free from its rope, and began rampaging through the streets.

Before it could cover even a dozen meters, there was a loud thud, and the ground shook as the buffalo’s hooves flipped up. When Pai Tong returned, he found his buffalo collapsed, lifeless. He could scarcely believe it, but the chaos around him made it clear that the disaster was indeed caused by his buffalo. "Buddha help me, what on earth happened?"

"Hey! Who are you? Get away from here now!"

A dark muzzle aimed at Pai Tong as the gunman spoke sternly.

A stranger suddenly throwing themselves onto the buffalo might pose a threat to the Chinese officer, prompting Pu Zhana to be extra vigilant.

Today was already unlucky enough with so many unforeseen events; if it continued like this, his job could be at stake. Pu Zhana diligently assumed the role of an undercover bodyguard, aiming his gun at the buffalo’s owner and shouting loudly while pretending to kick him. Suddenly, Lin Mo stopped him.

Lin Mo instead handed a note to the crying buffalo owner.

As Pai Tong wiped away his tears, he was indeed scared out of his wits by Pu Zhana’s gun, but the sudden note he received made him stop crying. He wiped his eyes, trembling as he took the note and focused on it.

“How much is this worth?”

How much? What did that mean?

He looked up at Lin Mo, the seemingly tourist, who smiled back and nodded at him.

Pai Tong looked back down at the note, suddenly realizing something, and his expression transformed from sorrow to joy, beaming brightly at Lin Mo. He excitedly nodded and waved his hands, raising three fingers to signify the number "three."

Three? Three what? Three hundred or three thousand Thai baht?

Lin Mo tilted his head, still not understanding. He pulled out all the Thai baht he had on him and stuffed it into the buffalo owner’s hands. He had exchanged quite a hefty amount, including plenty of 1000 baht notes—enough for the finest meals and the best hotels.

The delighted buffalo owner, Pai Tong, had the courage to accept the money under the strange gaze of the Thai agent. He casually sorted through the bills and ignored the gunpoint, counting them openly.

Even if it meant eating a bullet, he needed to ensure his family had food on the table; his family’s livelihood allowed Pai Tong to overcome his fear of the gun.

Perhaps the money Lin Mo had given him was sufficient because the buffalo owner generously returned several bills to Lin Mo, indicating the quantity he accepted, likely around thirty thousand baht—equivalent to six thousand yuan.

Selling a dead buffalo for that price made Pai Tong secretly delighted. He stood up, giving a sideways glance at the gun pointed at him, nodded at Lin Mo a few times, and casually turned to leave. "A blessing in disguise, who knows if it’s a fortune?"

Feeling ecstatic, he hadn’t walked far before a troubled expression emerged on his face. His hand trembled as he gripped the money. Damn, his water buffalo had caused chaos, attracting the attention of those seeking compensation. He had thought he could buy a couple of calves but now wasn’t sure how much he would have left. He wished he had asked for a bit more.

It was as if Pai Tong had fallen from heaven to hell. Not only would he face losses, but he also needed to head to the temple with his family to pray for the injured.

Truly, blessings do not come in pairs, and misfortunes never come alone. As for how the buffalo owner intended to tidy up the mess in the street, that was no longer Lin Mo’s concern.

Leaning back, as if nothing had occurred, Lin Mo continued to nibble on the grilled squid, smiling at Pu Zhana. He shrugged and pointed at the lifeless buffalo on the ground, then made a phone gesture.

Lin Mo wasn’t a professional when it came to handling dead buffaloes; he generally managed the killing, leaving the burying to others. Perhaps the cafeteria staff could whip up a grand beef feast from it tonight.

An intelligent agent like Pu Zhana immediately grasped Lin Mo’s meaning. He pulled out his phone and made a call. Sure enough, not long after, a Chinese Jiangling pickup truck rolled into the street.

After finishing the grilled squid, Lin Mo, as if lifting a sack, tossed the buffalo onto the pickup truck with such power that it made the onlookers gasp in disbelief.

"Don’t worry! I’ll get it to the base…" Using his phone, Pu Zhana located someone who understood Chinese. As he listened attentively to the receiver’s slow pronunciation and repeated it like a parrot, he preferred to handle things personally and never left it to others. If he let someone else do everything, why should he get paid?

"OK!"

Lin Mo gestured. He left the rest to this Thai agent, returning to his shopping. In his eyes, bigger and fiercer aerial knights had fallen to his hands before; a water buffalo was nothing special, even less significant than a chicken.

The humans who had met their end at Lin Mo’s hands were too numerous for him to count.

In the eyes of others, Lin Mo’s actions appeared shockingly brazen, but a punch that knocked out a nearly one-ton water buffalo would give anyone pause to consider their own physical stature and whether they could withstand such a blow.

As Lin Mo departed, the number of foreign tourists in the street diminished significantly.

“Hansen, are we sure this guy is our target? He looks like a Marine!”

In a corner of the street, several white tourists, backpacks on their shoulders, leaning on trekking poles and wearing durable outdoor shoes, pretended to chat and enjoy drinks while secretly eyeing Lin Mo’s slow departure.

"Okinets, don’t underestimate him. After all, this guy belongs to the Chinese ‘Night’ force, the ‘Night.’"

The bearded squad leader, with his yellowish beard and bulging belly, had a twinkle in his eye as he repeated “Night,” seemingly familiar with this little-known Chinese unit.

“Is the ‘Night’ really that formidable? More powerful than our ‘Alpha’ or ‘Signal Flag’ units?” asked a young man named Okinets, with light yellow hair trimmed short, his skin sunburned a rosy hue from the tropical sun.

“‘Alpha’ and ‘Signal Flag’ are operational units set up by the intelligence bureau to attract outside attention, but ‘Night’ is a secret force hidden beneath the surface in China. They can’t even be compared. Don’t let ‘Alpha’ and ‘Signal Flag’s’ elite reputation fool you; if they run into ‘Night,’ unless they meet our ‘Gruu’ forces, even ten of them together might not take down one.”

The bearded squad leader chuckled and maintained his position, showing no intention of continuing to follow Lin Mo. The recent water buffalo incident had already showcased the careless exposure of weapons by several other organization members, catching the Thais’ attention. He believed that abruptly continuing to track and observe could invite unnecessary trouble.

“How is that possible? Are they all terminators?” Okinets spread his hands, looking incredulous; Hansen’s words exceeded his expectations.

“Isn’t it true?” another white man, with long white-yellow hair, pointed to where the water buffalo had once lain. A faint indentation was visible on the ground, soaked with the strong odor of blood that had pooled in a damp patch, with dark red stains visible in the stone crevices.

Under the searing sun, the scent of blood thickened in the air, drawing flies to buzz around the still wet marks. The street gradually began to return to order; unfortunate buffalo owners were surrounded by victims seeking compensation.

Those who received compensation left with smiles on their faces, no matter the amount.

The injured were taken to the nearest clinic for treatment.

Only the sorrowful buffalo owner remained, staring at a few lonely loose bills in his hand, wanting to cry but unable to shed tears. The money left was insufficient even for a steak, let alone to buy calves. At that moment, he felt he had no strength left to cry.

If it hadn’t been for the kind-hearted individuals who stopped the tragedy and helped him with compensation, he wouldn’t have known what to do.