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Chapter 81: Battlefield Reporter

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My name is Jock and I am a field reporter.

My job is to bring the most real war news to the people of my country on the front line of war.

The war must be **** and cruel.

And my job is dangerous and difficult.

In my country, there are only a few field reporters like me.

Because as long as it is a normal person, it will not choose the most dangerous job in the world.

And I'm not tired of it because I wanted to be a soldier since I was a child.

But my life is destined to make me unable to serve any country.

Twenty years ago, Jinri and Blackhawk were friends.

Jinri is a big country, and Black Hawk is a slightly backward developing country.

My mother is a nomad at the border of Black Eagle, and my father is a businessman of Jinri on the Black Eagle Silk Road.

The Black Eagle Empire is a country famous for breeding black eagles. Only the Black Eagle Empire is suitable for raising a huge black eagle.

This huge black eagle feather is the best material for making a quill in the world.

And my dad is a businessman doing this business.

He used the equivalent currency to transport the feathers back to the Golden Sun Empire after the Black Eagle Empire exchanged for feathers.

After processing in the Golden Sun Empire, part of the floc was found after the feather tube was cut. Empty the feathers in the feather tube, and use a carving knife to sharpen the feather tube further.

Use a carving knife to drill a groove in the middle of the pen tip. This groove is to prevent ink from flowing away when not writing.

Then from the groove to the tip of the tip of the pen, use a scribe to make a score. The groove and the score allow ink to flow smoothly to the tip.

The feather tube is filled with good ink and slowly flows out through the cut score.

Then draw the beautiful words on the paper by the tip of the tube.

This high-end quill was dumped in the Jinri Empire by his father's hand.

Even in today's modern, technologically advanced world, it is a symbol of luxury for the rich.

And my father also knew my mother because of this sale, and took my mother from the nomadic people to the reinforced concrete society.

And gave birth to me, although I did not like these feather businesses at all.

But when his father was most proud, he still took out a feather pen and handed it to the other party to write.

Of course, this good business is not long.

Until the war was banned by the state.

This war was carried out by the uneven exchange of national debt between the Golden Sun and the Black Eagle Empire.

As soon as the 63 unequal agreements of the Golden Japanese Empire came out, the friendship between the two countries disappeared.

During the war, all ties were directly disconnected between the two countries.

The Silk Road became the end, with corpses everywhere.

The mother had no choice but to stay in the Jinri empire because she married her father to Jinri.

But her mother has always been attached to the Black Eagle Empire in the distance, but she may not be able to meet her loved ones in this life.

When I was a kid, it was the second year of the war.

His father was imprisoned for preaching the crimes of other countries.

His father's black eagle feather pens hoarded in the warehouse were all searched, and he was directly sentenced to death for the huge number.

Those feather pens were originally a symbol of luxury.

But after the beginning of this war, it became a symbol of betrayal.

At the death of his father, few relatives recognized the mother who belonged to the Black Eagle Empire.

And my mother can only bear the burden of raising me, the mother almost does nothing but housework.

Most of the time I go to other people's houses to be employed, and in my spare time I will use the feathers of white pigeons to make pens.

This is the only craft left by his father to his mother.

And I grew up, other children playing with toys and wearing new clothes.

I can only play with my mother's quill pen and sleep on the dove feather pillow.

That smell is my nightmare from childhood to big.

Fortunately, I study well, maybe it is related to these feather pens.

Because my mother often tells me that these feather pens are my father.

But I really don't have a cold for writing and painting. I was determined to join the army when I was a kid.

But when I grew up, I realized that because of my parents' awkward status, the army of the Golden Sun Empire would not want me.

And I graduated from college and became a reporter.

When I saw the specialty of field reporters, I joined the industry almost without turning back.

In a dangerous industry, I was allowed to join with little review.

My photographer and I are a team.

Although my mother has always objected to me doing this job, she will prepare my luggage for me every time I go out.

And told me that if I met the nomads of the Black Eagle Empire.

Inquire about the clan with the surname Mojito and tell them that Adie missed them.

But as far as I know after the war, all the nomadic people moved into the village to settle.

It is not easy to find something, but I have always been concerned about it.

Of course, field reporters are not as dangerous as expected.

If a reporter in the field encounters a war between the two sides, as long as he does not creep and wait for the end of the war, there will be no accident.

If one side defeats the other, no matter which party's army captured the reporter in the field.

As long as the documents are complete, they will be released because this profession of reporting wars is also respected by the citizens.

The border of the Black Eagle Empire is an endless grassland, which used to be a paradise for nomads.

Of course, just before.

Yesterday, we boarded the army's supply vehicle and planned to return to the Golden Sun Empire.

I have got the latest battle report on hand, enough to publish the headlines.

But when passing by the village of Zhaizhai, a small village on the border of the Black Eagle Empire, some soldiers in the army said that there was a murderous man in the village.

Suddenly I was interested, but the photographer did not dare to accompany me.

He said he was tired, and the madman during the war was more terrible than the soldiers.

In fact, my biggest goal is not to shoot, but to want to go to the mother's wish in the village.

See if there are any people in the village surnamed Mojito, and take their mother's thoughts.

Helpless I can only leave the bag, and agreed with the cameraman to return after an hour.

Carrying the camera, he walked in alone.

There are landscapes along the way, but I have no intention of enjoying it.

This is almost a village and town where the grasslands have been reformed hard, and the houses are all temporary houses.

In the village, there was no one in the daytime. It is estimated that the villagers were afraid that the murderous man would hide.

In this kind of wartime, the army has no time to confront the enemy.

Not to mention the army taking the time to help the villagers solve this murderous riot, of course, because of the war. Of course, the riots have become insignificant.

Just when I was disappointed and was going back to the camp to leave, I found two figures in the corner.

One stood panicked while standing, while the other was grimace with a dagger.

I think he should be murderous.

The panicked person stumbled backwards, tripped, and fell heavily on the ground.

The man holding the dagger glanced at me as he prepared to pounce, and turned to escape in the other direction.

I started yelling and chased up, the shaking camera kept shooting blurry.

My first reaction was to save people, but it might be more effective if I could hold down the murderous maniac.

I was thinking, if I could run faster without a camera.

Until I threw the camera at the next corner and hurried up.

The murderous man with a dagger was pressed by me, struggling constantly under my crotch.

I took his dagger and killed him.

I think the murderer was killed by me. . .

And I walked aside and just picked up the camera to save the video.

A group of villagers also arrived.

I waved my hand to explain the situation at the time, but I was crushed to the ground.

I hurriedly wanted to explain everything and incidentally thought of waiting to be the hero of this village.

Ask again if there is a tribe in this village with the surname Mojito.

But before waiting for me to say a few words, he was pressed into the local prison together with the person who had just fallen to the ground.

The crime is an accomplice, and the evidence is the camera in my hand.

It turned out that the camera could capture some corpses hidden in the grass, corners and corners along the way.

But I was thinking about my mother's wish, and I didn't have any intention to wait and see.

The panic-stricken man was the murderer, who was robbed of his dagger when he killed the last man in the village.

The murderer's thinking was not normal. When he saw me chasing and helping him kill the last villager in Luodan.

He thought of me as a dangerous man like him, and talked about it.

And just like his confession, I really killed a villager who was helpless.

The murderer also kindly called me a partner when recording his confession, hoping to meet me in prison.

The reporter's identity and another story I claimed, because of my identity as the Golden Sun Empire, could not be trusted at all.

The most important press card was also put in the bag, which was then handed over to the photographer for safekeeping.

The only camera around me that can prove my identity is the camera, not even a pen or a piece of paper.

The camera can also be a useful tool for putting on the Internet to show your metamorphosis after murder.

As for the supply vehicle and the photographer, I have left because the one-hour time limit has expired and I can no longer wait to finalize my murder.

The camera clearly recorded the whole process of chasing and killing a refugee, which was broadcast on the local TV station of the Black Eagle Empire.

At the same time, in the Golden Sun Empire, the TV station was showing the battle report brought back from the front line hosted by me.

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