120: Boss, is this considered a business trip on company pay?

The wind was like a dull saw, grinding away at their bones.

Fifty minutes.

This was the limit Chen Mo calculated.

If they didn't keep moving, his freshly stitched body would turn into a frozen popsicle. Nightingale would die first, then Su Qingxue, and finally him.

"Can't walk anymore?"

Chen Mo turned his head, looking at Su Qingxue, who was bundled up like a penguin.

She was supporting Nightingale, each step dragging two deep furrows in the snow.

Su Qingxue didn't speak, just bit her pale lips. Her eyelashes were covered in white frost, but her eyes were frighteningly bright, staring intently ahead.

This woman was as stubborn as a mule when she set her mind to something.

"Give her to me."

Chen Mo reached out to grab Nightingale's arm.

"You have a hole in your stomach." Su Qingxue dodged, her voice hoarse, "I have hands."

"You have hands, but you don't have a brain."

Chen Mo rolled his eyes, wasting no more words. He grabbed Nightingale's belt and, like lifting a little chick, slung the top agent onto his back.

Hiss—

The muscles around his wound twitched in a spasm.

The pain made him curse the helicopter pilot's ancestors eighteen generations back in his mind.

"There's a vehicle ahead."

Chen Mo suddenly stopped, his nostrils flaring.

The wind carried a faint smell of unburnt diesel, and that unique, nauseating odor of engine oil.

Su Qingxue nervously raised her gun: "Is it their people again?"

"Doesn't look like it."

Chen Mo narrowed his good right eye.

In his field of vision, red thermal signals were approaching.

Three heartbeats.

The rhythm was steady, lacking the characteristic tension of combat personnel, instead showing a sense of nonchalance.

"It's logistics responsible for cleaning up the battlefield, or people coming to collect bodies."

Chen Mo licked his chapped lips and plunged the heavy Barrett into the snow.

"You two hide behind."

"What are you going to do?"

"Catch a ride."

Chen Mo pulled off the scarf around his neck, which had turned black and red, hung it on the gun barrel, then plopped down next to a snowdrift, striking a dejected pose only a beggar would have.

"Remember, no matter what happens, don't show yourselves."

Rumble, rumble.

The sound of tracks crushing ice grew closer.

An all-terrain snow vehicle, painted in grey-white camouflage, broke through the wind and snow. Its headlights pierced the darkness, shining directly on Chen Mo's face.

The machine gun on the roof rotated, locking onto Chen Mo.

"Don't shoot! Don't shoot!"

Chen Mo raised his hands, the dirty scarf waving frantically in the wind, as if surrendering.

He hunched his neck, his face full of terror, trembling all over.

He looked like a refugee scared out of his wits, or some unlucky survivor of an expedition team.

The vehicle stopped.

The door opened, and three men in heavy polar suits jumped out.

They held not standard rifles, but submachine guns, better suited for close-range suppressive fire.

"Where did this stray dog come from?"

The leader walked over, gun raised, kicked the snow on the ground, and pressed the muzzle against Chen Mo's forehead.

"Were you the one causing trouble just now?"

"Not me! Really not me!"

Chen Mo shook his head like a rattle-drum, snot and tears smearing his face. "I'm here for tourism! My car overturned up ahead... I'm almost frozen to death! Big brother, please, give me a ride!"

"Tourism?"

The man suspiciously scrutinized the bloodstains on Chen Mo's clothes, then looked at the exaggeratedly shaped sniper rifle stuck nearby.

"Traveling with this thing?"

"I picked it up! It fell from the sky just now!" Chen Mo pointed to the sky, "I was so scared I peed myself!"

The three mercenaries exchanged glances and laughed.

Their laughter was full of contempt.

In their eyes, this was just some idiot who appeared out of nowhere, probably scared senseless by the aerial combat, picking up a gun to use as a fire poker.

"Alright, we'll give you a ride."

The leader grinned, pulling a dagger from his waist, "But the fare is a bit expensive."

He bent down, intending to pull out the Barrett and claim it for himself.

This was a good item, worth a lot of money on the black market.

The moment his fingers touched the gun barrel.

Chen Mo's Cowardly expression vanished.

It was replaced by an indifference reserved for looking at dead men.

"I'll pay the fare."

Crack.

Chen Mo's wrist twisted strangely, grabbing the man's finger and snapping it with force.

The finger broke like a crispy noodle.

"Ah—!"

Half of the scream was forced back into his throat by Chen Mo's punch.

The sound of a crushed throat bone was exceptionally clear in the wind and snow.

The remaining two hadn't even reacted when they saw the

Bang! Bang!

Two dull thuds.

Chen Mo didn't use a gun; instead, he directly plunged the leader's dagger into the left man's temple.

Immediately followed by a spinning kick, the heavy military boot sole slammed hard into the right man's chest.

The sound of bones breaking was as dense as firecrackers.

The man flew backward, hit the track, and instantly fell silent.

Three seconds.

Battle over.

Chen Mo shook the blood off his hands, then bent down and pulled a pack of cigarettes from a corpse's pocket.

"Marlboro? Terrible taste."

He grumbled disdainfully but still lit one and took a deep drag.

"Come out, our private car has arrived."

Su Qingxue emerged from behind the rocks, looked at the corpses strewn on the ground, then at Chen Mo, who was leaning against the car door, smoking.

"You just..."

"Method acting, understand?" Chen Mo blew out a smoke ring. "If I can use my brain, I won't use my hands. That's professionalism. Besides, I'm a patient right now; I need to conserve energy."

He pulled open the car door, and a rush of warm air greeted them.

Various supply boxes were haphazardly piled inside the car, and a few pornographic magazines were tossed in the back seat.

"Get in, we only have forty minutes left."

The snow vehicle sped across the ice plain.

Chen Mo floored the accelerator, and the tracks kicked up a sky full of snow dust.

Nightingale lay in the back, her face pale, her breathing weak.

Su Qingxue was rummaging through the first-aid kit, preparing to inject her with a cardiotonic.

Chen Mo drove with one hand, while with the other, he tore open a packet of compressed biscuits and swallowed them like chewing rocks.

"That gun."

Su Qingxue suddenly spoke, pointing at the Barrett by Chen Mo's feet.

"When did you learn to use a gun like that? At that distance, and calculating windage, that's not something an ordinary police officer can do."

"An elective course at the police academy."

Chen Mo didn't even lift his eyelids. "The instructor said I had talent, but I was too lazy."

"Liar."

"Believe it or not."

Chen Mo stuffed the last piece of biscuit into his mouth, saying indistinctly, "Remember to reimburse me when we get back. This is a work injury, and I need compensation for emotional distress. That bearded guy tried to touch me; that's workplace sexual harassment."

Su Qingxue didn't respond.

She looked at Chen Mo's profile.

The car's dashboard emitted a dim green light, illuminating his blood-stained face.

At this moment, he was quiet, focused, yet exuded a chilling ruthlessness that made her heart pound.

He was nothing like the usual joker who always clowned around.

Which one was the real him?

"Don't look at me like that, I'll think you're falling in love with me." Chen Mo suddenly turned his head and grinned at her.

That roguish charm was back.

Su Qingxue turned her face away: "Drive your car."

"It's just ahead."

Chen Mo suddenly slammed on the brakes.

The snow vehicle stopped on a high slope.

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