Resold To The Ruthless Mafia Lord
“Boss! Over here.”
I walked over to where he stood.
A single dagger was embedded in a wooden crate, left there deliberately, of course.
The handle bore a strange symbol, a weeping snake, fangs bared, tears dripping from its eyes.
I pulled the blade free, turning it over in my gloved hand.
“Recognize this?” I asked, holding it up for the others to see.
They shook their heads. “Never seen it before, boss,” one replied.
I stared at the symbol, anger simmering beneath my skin.
Bab Populer