Durin's Diary

Chapter 913 Old people often forget things
Putting down his binoculars, Yanzi from the Ministry of Internal Affairs of the capital looked somewhat anxious. He looked at his fellow countryman beside him, who looked away from the large telescope, lit a cigarette with trembling hands, and then looked at Yanzi from the Ministry of Internal Affairs of the capital: "Is this what you call a non-human being?"

“Yes.” The young swallow sat down to the side and sighed.

"A dwarf demon-like Candle Dragon, with one hand, threw a cannonball fired by the Crimson War God's army back and knocked down a high-ranking vampire? If I hadn't seen it with my own eyes, I wouldn't have believed it at all! At a distance of two thousand meters, without telescopes, I couldn't even confirm the trajectory of that solid cannonball; it flew too fast!"

“That’s right. According to the intelligence I’ve seen, this isn’t his limit. It’s more like he’s playing around.” Yanzi said, then sighed and lay down on the sandbag.

If this scene hadn't been recorded, I wouldn't have dared to tell anyone, because I watched it all happen, yet I still doubted whether it was all real.

“Oh, right.” The young swallow suddenly seemed to have thought of something.

"What?" His colleague, who was smoking, turned around upon hearing this.

"Who do you think will be sent to be the military supervisor?"

"Supervise who? This guy? Whose brat's got a death wish?"

The agents from the Prime Minister's direct security department were somewhat dismissive of the young swallow's doubts.

………………

Dulin was surprised to find that these guys even had cannons. He finally understood why the local army leaders were so certain that the "Demon Army" was waiting for their reinforcements—the cannons were too heavy, and it would be slower for them to move them, right?

Dulin was in a good mood after his own artillery fired, scattering sand all over the opposite side. He picked up the solid shell, threw it back, shook it to clean it up, and then ran off.

As he passed the steps where the veterans were sitting, Dulin greeted them.

"Sir, you seem to have a lot of free time. Have you finished writing the report?" the young company commander, sitting on the top step, asked.

Huh, what report? Dulin was completely confused.

“My father also served as a commander-in-chief. He told me that when he was at the front, he had to write a report every week and then have the supervising officer deliver it directly to the general’s mansion for the general to review.” The young company commander looked at Du Lin with some suspicion as he said this: “Speaking of which, sir, do you know who your supervising officer is?”

"Uh, I came in a hurry and really didn't know I could bring a military supervisor with me," Du Lin said honestly.

The young company commander looked a little embarrassed, but then he slapped his forehead and said, "That's right, Lord Dulin, you're from the Western Lands, so you don't know the troubles we have on the Changtang border. Speaking of which, this report isn't easy to write. Who writes a diary anyway?"

Damn, the young people naturally made up for it for you.

Big Orange was also embarrassed.

"It's alright, I'll go ask someone later." After saying that, Du Lin tossed the young man a bottle of medicine: "It's for saving lives, here you go."

Du Lin waved his hand dismissively at the young man's thanks, as if he had accepted them. Then he went to the front-line command post and met Commander Guo Huai, who was eating from the army mess.

It's called a "military mess kit," but it's really just a type of fast food. For example, Du Lin had one last night. It's a packaged food consisting of a seasoning packet, a packet of dehydrated meat and vegetables, a little oil, and a piece of dehydrated noodles that Eleven said should be called a "pancake." All you need is a bowl; put all the ingredients in, soak them in hot water, and it's ready to eat in ten minutes.

When Du Lin asked about the military supervisor, the old man looked surprised: "I thought the General's Mansion hadn't assigned one to you. I didn't expect you wouldn't know either. That's strange. You've been here for more than a day or two. If someone was to be sent, they should have arrived by now."

"I heard it from the soldiers, so I also felt a bit strange. But considering that I left in a hurry when I came, I also thought that I hadn't brought anyone with me."

Now that Dulin thinks about it, the whole thing is a bit strange.

However, since no one from the General's Mansion came over, Du Lin didn't care anymore—that young man was right after all. Who writes a diary? Writing so many sincere things would probably be so cringeworthy when you open it in your old age.

Putting the matter out of his mind, Du Lin glanced at the noodles in Lao Guo's bowl again: "Speaking of which, is this all you guys are eating?"

"I'm used to it. Just like how my old marshal couldn't live without naan bread back in Yumen Pass. In Zhennan Pass, this stuff is convenient, practical, and the quantity isn't much. After all, when it's hot, you can't eat anything else, so a little something will do." The old commander said, then looked at Du Lin: "I'm quite surprised that you can get used to this cheap stuff."

“I’ve been on the battlefield and eaten bread mixed with sawdust.” Dulin had also told the old man what bread mixed with sawdust was: “Actually, that was considered good. Some soldiers came from poor areas, where they even had bread mixed with sand.”

"Adding sand? If this happened here, even if the soldiers didn't mutinied, if they reported it, every single one of the responsible guys would be dead." Old Guo was also shocked to hear that sand was being added.

"So later on, I personally oversaw the food supply for all the soldiers on the defensive line I was in charge of, and I ate with them. If I was ever allowed to eat bread mixed with sand, I would personally execute the person in charge," Dulin added.

Old Guo slammed his hand on the table: "You did the right thing! That's how it should be done! How dare you let soldiers do this!"

"What are you banging on the table for, Lao Guo?" At this moment, an old deer demon walked over. He asked with a smile, then looked at Du Lin: "This must be Mr. Du Lin. I heard you were here, so I came to see what was going on. This dwarf demon-transformed Zhulong really looks young and cute."

Du Lin smiled.

"Durin and I talked about how, during the war there, some soldiers from poor areas had their food supplied by the guys who would put sand in their staple food."

"No wonder you slammed your fist on the table. Anyone would be cursing if they were in your shoes." After hearing the story recounted by Lao Guo, the old deer was also filled with righteous indignation: "How could there be such an outrageous guy? I think it's already unfair to these young men to make the soldiers eat from the army mess. I never thought there would be such a bad guy in the Western Continent."

“You’ll get used to it.” Dulin smiled and sighed. “In the Western Continent, some countries have duchies, and duchies have territories. The lords have a certain degree of autonomy. There’s a saying that a lord’s lord is not my lord, which describes these strange and varied situations.”

As the two veteran commanders listened to Du Lin explain the political landscape of the Western Lands, they occasionally clicked their tongues in amazement.

Then the third commander, a one-eared rat demon, walked in: "Old Xiao, what are you doing here?"

"And you, Brother Shu?"

"I came here because my warehouse was hit by the demon's cannon fire, and the soldiers have nothing to eat. They're hoping the city will send us grain, so I shamelessly asked Old Guo for a pancake." At this point, the rat demon pointed at the old deer demon: "But you, I remember your position is quite far from here. What's wrong with you?"

Upon hearing this, Old Deer slapped his thigh: "Oh no, I forgot to deliver a message to Dulin."

(End of this chapter)