The warrior's struggle to stand instantly tore his leg wound open, sending dark red blood spilling from the rupture.
Deaf to the urging around him, he kept his eyes locked tightly onto Su Mo. His throat bobbed.
"M-Mr. Su!"
His hoarse voice grated like scraping steel pipes, sending a chilling numbness down everyone's collarbones.
Seeing the man weakly flailing his hands in the air, Su Mo hurried forward. He sat on the edge of the bed and grasped that bloodstained, dirt-darkened left hand.
"Speak. I am listening!"
"Mr. Su, I... I ain't gonna make it. I can't hold on. My... my little brother is still back in the territory. Once I'm gone, I beg you, please take care of him. Let him live a good life, and don't let him wander off..."
As he arranged his final affairs, the warrior experienced a sudden burst of terminal lucidity. The more he spoke to Su Mo, the more color returned to his cheeks, and his voice grew rapidly smoother and more fluid.
