Given he's in what he still assumes is a test facility for Black Badge, Bobo hasn't seen much reason to hide what he was. Not that he's talking about it over meals, and really only one man knows most of the details, but since this kid has what he started with, no reason to entirely hide the details.

He reaches out to take the handle of the knife. "Think about what I'm saying and just relax? Okay?" Because kid was going to end up cutting his own balls off at the rate he's going.

"Well, in fairness, a lot of people got shot at in the eighteen hundreds," he points out, shrugging as if that sounds entirely normal. "That said, what I am, was, depends on how you look at it here, is a man that saved a lot of people and was punished for it." Not a lie. Just not the rest of the story.

"As for the grenade... Well, a pissed off bitch with a savior complex thought it was funny to strap one to an automatic weapon knowing I would jerk it out of her hand. Real fun, huh?"

He keeps staring the other guy in the eyes, and then jerks on the knife, hoping he can pull it free from his hand before he can react. If he's worried it will hurt someone else, he might be subconsciously holding it to him, Bobo figures.