Battlefield Priest's Diary

Chapter 5 Return
boom! ! ! !

A bullet pierced Pavka's neck below the neck, passing through his chest from behind. The spurting blood splashed onto the ground, mixing with the flowing sugar water to form a small vortex.

Qin Hao helped the man up, but the glib-tongued fellow was now unable to speak coherently. In his final moments, he gripped Qin Hao's wrist tightly with one hand, his eyes fixed on him.

“Min...Minsk...Sorinoa village...Natha...Yuri…”

After uttering only a few words, Pavka's mouth gushed blood, and his eyes turned permanently gray.

he died.

boom! boom! boom! ! !
Explosions rang out one after another, lights flickered, and German commands echoed throughout the room.

Qin Hao put down the body, propped himself up, and stuck his head out of the trench. What he saw was a scene he would never forget.

Thousands of Russian soldiers dressed in the same uniform rushed toward him in a panic, while Germans with weapons were right behind them. If anyone was caught, he would be met with bullets or bayonets.

The battle lines collapsed.

Qin Hao glanced at the fallen Pavka. The veteran was no longer breathing. He tried to stand up, but his legs gave way and he couldn't muster any strength.

puff!
Gunshots rang out, and a bullet struck Qin Hao's side. In the flash, Qin Hao gritted his teeth and picked up the rifle Pavka had left behind.

He had never used this weapon; he had only seen it roughly used in movies.

He took the bullets out of his pocket, pulled open the magazine to load them in, but his hand trembled and the bullets clattered to the ground.

As he reached out to pick it up, a figure wearing a lightning rod hat jumped in, and a bayonet gleaming white light danced before Qin Hao's eyes.

He almost instinctively grabbed the gun, only then realizing that the rifle in his hand did not have a bayonet.

He threw the rifle at the other man, then grabbed a spiked mace and swung it at him.

It has little power.

when!
The weak and powerless wooden stick was pried open.

Qin Hao bent down again to grab the stones on the ground, but in his haste, he only managed to grab a handful of wild grass next to the trench.

puff! !

With the sound of a knife piercing flesh, Qin Hao's vision went completely black.
-
! ! ! ! !

It was like waking up from a nightmare.

Qin Hao suddenly sat up in bed, his underwear completely soaked with cold sweat.

My heart was still pounding. I touched my chest, and it was still perfectly fine; there wasn't a large gash in it.

Qin Hao looked at the furnishings around him and the old-fashioned air conditioner that was humming, and it took him a long time to start thinking.

Consciousness began to return.

Was it a dream?!
I had a dream that I was transported to World War I by a diary, rolled in the mud in the trenches with Russians, and finally got bayoneted by a German soldier?!
What a weird dream, it felt so incredibly real.

Qin Hao touched his chest and shoulders, finding no signs of injury, and breathed a sigh of relief. Thankfully, it was just a dream.

Qin Hao raised his hand to wipe the cold sweat from his forehead, but then realized he was holding something in his hand.

A plant whose name I don't know, which looks similar to roadside weeds, and which smells of damp earth.

! ! ! ! !

A sensation like an electric shock travels from the tailbone to the brain.

He remembered!
This was something he'd casually torn from the trench during his dream while fighting the Germans, and there was even black mud under his fingernails. A thought flashed through his mind, and Qin Hao suddenly jumped out of bed, barefoot, grabbed the coat beside him, and rummaged through its pockets.

No!

No!

There isn't anywhere!

That pack of Furongwang cigarettes is gone!

That wasn't a dream! He really was sent to the Russian army during World War I!
But why was I able to come back?

Then another scene appeared before his eyes.

The chess piece that he had just played with lay quietly on the ground, with a small hole pierced through the chest of one of the white soldier pieces.

He was certain that the small hole didn't originally exist!

"Some soldiers are superstitious about these little gadgets, treating these chess pieces as talismans, believing they can protect them from disaster, or even take their place in death." Donikov's words echoed in his ears, and Qin Hao's expression gradually became serious.

He was caught up in World War I and died inexplicably once, and the broken piece was in the same spot as the one where he was fatally wounded.

This doesn't seem like a coincidence!

So, a piece can die once for you, right? There are seven identical pieces left, meaning you have seven more chances?

So what will happen next?
Qin Hao didn't even dare to think further.

With a heavy feeling in his chest, Qin Hao pushed open the bedroom window in frustration. The night wind blew in, making a crackling sound in the room.

The strange diary was opened, and a small section of writing on the previously blurry notes became clear.

Escape from Tannenberg: 7/8

Then, as if an invisible pen was writing, a sentence appeared in the diary.

"Summary: Although you failed, you performed well as a recruit. You still swung your weapon at the last moment. Brave people should be rewarded and blessed."

As the writing appeared, a chess piece that was standing to the side rolled over and stopped right next to Qin Hao's hand.

Qin Hao picked up the chess piece and noticed that the inscription on it was different from before; a rifle was now printed next to the lightning bolt symbol.
A new line appeared in the diary:
[Weapon handling: You will become more proficient with firearms]

“Manipulation…” Qin Hao looked at the words in the diary and the chess piece with its chest pierced beside him, his eyes gradually becoming serious.

After that, no matter what Qin Hao did, the diary never reacted again.
-
When Donikov woke up, it was already broad daylight. When he saw Qin Hao again, he was surprised to find his partner fiddling with the Tokarev pistol, while the breakfast provided by the hotel was quietly laid out beside him.

"Hey buddy, don't you dislike handling guns?" The Russian walked over with a puzzled look, casually pinched a corner of the fried egg and put it in his mouth, then frowned. The fried egg was already cold, which meant that Qin Hao had been like this for quite some time.

"Don't worry, brother, you'll definitely get a share when I sell that painting." Donikov thought the other person was unhappy because of what happened yesterday.

"Oh, no, that's alright." Qin Hao shook his head nonchalantly, then asked, "Yesterday you said this gun had been disabled for firing; can it be restored?"

"Of course, you can just destroy the part that's welded to the trigger and fix the barrel, but why are you asking this?" The Russian looked suspicious.

"I was just suddenly curious," Qin Hao said casually. "I suddenly want to take a break. Can I leave the business to you during this time?"

"Uh, of course, buddy, who exactly are you..." The other party still sensed the strangeness about Qin Hao.

"I'm just a little tired, sorry, I want to take a nap for a bit." After saying that, Qin Hao went back to his room on his own.

Half an hour later, in Qin Hao's room, the Tokarev pistol was easily disassembled into pieces.

(End of this chapter)