Starting from South America, speeding through the world

Chapter 347 Who the hell peed in my pants?

The June sun shines like a rising flame.

The fire started at the Presidential Palace and continued all the way to the square behind the City Hall.

Daniel hid in the shade under the tree.

The shirt sleeves were rolled up, and the suit jacket was draped over his arm.

The air was filled with various smells, which made him feel slightly dizzy.

Wallace, standing beside him, appeared calm, a cigarette dangling from his lips, as if studying the terrain.

Daniel couldn't help but look ahead.

Wooden frames, beams, and stage.

The flags fluttered in the wind, and the ropes were intertwined.

He suddenly felt that the scene was quite symbolic.

Chaotic, yet still maintaining a certain posture.

Vietnamese officials nearby were talking in hushed tones, and snippets of their conversation drifted over.

"The news department is late."

"Never mind him, as long as the Americans are there."

"."

"Has the film crew arrived?"

"Today's task is very important."

"You mean you're just going to give it up like that?"

"Who cares, we're all going to die anyway."

Daniel leaned against the tree trunk, squinting slightly.

Immediately afterwards, footsteps sounded behind me.

He turned his head and saw a smartly dressed military officer approaching.

The man had a smile on his face and a warm expression.

"You must be Mr. Visnievsky?"

"I heard you can speak our language, that's amazing."

The man complimented her in a light and cheerful tone.

As they spoke, his hand was already outstretched.

Daniel glanced at Wallace first, and seeing that he didn't react, he then extended his hand:
"I've only studied a little bit."

"You're too modest," the man said, his tone becoming even warmer.

"Your arrival has given us another friend who understands us."

Daniel remained silent, his attention drawn to the commotion nearby.

Chen Tinghe has arrived.

The escort vehicle slowly came to a stop, and the iron gate slammed shut.

A thin figure was dragged out, his hands tied behind his back, his steps unsteady.

The military police pushed him onto the platform, with ropes hanging down from the crossbeams.

The officer ignored Daniel's silence and continued to speak with a smile:
"Ah, is this your first time in Saigon?"

"Chen Tinghe is—"

Before he could finish speaking, a sharp static noise came from the loudspeaker.

The man on the stage then began to read aloud.

"In accordance with the Constitution of the Republic and military law, it was reviewed by a military court."

"By ruling—the defendant, Chen Tinghe, is charged as follows."

Daniel blinked, suddenly realizing that this was the first time he had witnessed death.

After realizing this, my heart started beating faster for no apparent reason.

Meanwhile, the executioner continued to read aloud lengthy lists of crimes.

The sound of translation followed.

Instigating riots, colluding with hostile forces in the north, and plotting to overthrow the legitimate government.

As such.

Wallace's expression was indifferent, revealing neither joy nor anger.

Chen Tinghe stood straight on the stage.

The wind blew the thick hemp rope, and the fibers shimmered in the sunlight.

"It's finally over."

Wallace sighed and turned to Daniel to complain.

"We'll be able to leave in a few more minutes."

Daniel turned and smiled at him, about to speak—

Pfft!
The man on the stage tilted his head back and fell down.

Almost simultaneously, with a snap, the rope was broken.

Before Daniel could figure out what was happening, a series of gunshots rang out.

With a gasp of surprise, the audience erupted in cheers.

Roaring, screaming, and shoving, the crowd surged backward like a tide.

Smoke suddenly appeared in the square, carried by the wind and spreading everywhere.

Daniel couldn't remember why he was still standing; he only felt numbness in his hands and feet.

"Get down!"

Wallace grabbed his shoulder and pulled him to the ground.

"The enemy is firing from the northeast corner!"

At the same time, another round of gunfire erupted, this time not far away.

It was so close it felt like it was right next to my ear, making my whole body go numb. The sound of something cutting through the air whistled past overhead.

Daniel nearly fainted; the nerves in his temples throbbed.

Visibility was almost zero all around, and the smoke was full of dust.

Several stray bullets hit the wall, sending up shards of stone that stung my face.

He tried to move while supporting himself on the ground, but his palm slipped and felt sticky.

Daniel looked down and saw that it was covered in blood.

He paused for two seconds, then belatedly realized that it wasn't his own blood.

Whose blood is that?

Just then, two more people squeezed in from behind the tree.

He was a U.S. Army lieutenant, covered in dirt, carrying a gun.

With his other hand, he grabbed the Vietnamese officer from earlier.

"Lower your head!" he shouted desperately.

"Tell your soldiers to fucking aim and fire!"

The officer was deathly pale and trembling uncontrollably, a far cry from his previous composure.

"I...I can't—they won't listen!"

"They...they're scared!"

"They're scared?! Then we're all going to die at their hands!"

The lieutenant's eyes turned red with anger.

The general shook his head helplessly, struggling to squeeze out.

"I'll fucking make you lie down!" the lieutenant cursed, raising his hand to grab him.

"This is a blind spot!"

Unfortunately, it was too late.

The man had already stood up.

The next second—

boom!
Daniel only saw the bark explode open, and a dark red spray came out.

Blood, bits of flesh, and bone fragments were poured down like a bucket of hot molten lava, covering his head.

He stared blankly, his eyes wide open, unable to see anything clearly.

My nasal cavity was filled with a fishy smell.

A buzzing sound was ringing in my ears.

Daniel tried to scream, but his throat was blocked, and he couldn't make a sound.

The body lay in front of him.

Steam was still rising from the wound.

The taste in my mouth was blood—salty, astringent, and with a hint of sweetness.

The whole world turned into red and white afterimages, and vision became as blurry as if through a veil.

"go!"

"Come with me!"

"Daniel!"

Snapped!
Someone slapped him hard across the face.

Daniel snapped out of his daze and noticed Wallace's lips moving.

"Come with me. Don't move."

“You’ll be fine.” His tone was short and left no room for argument.

Daniel instinctively got up and was pulled away to run outside.

The ground was slippery, covered in blood, corpses, and unidentifiable fragments.

With more US security forces joining in, they were forced to retreat in a disarray, fighting as they went.

Bullets whizzed through the air, and sparks flickered in the thick smoke.

They stumbled and ran wildly toward the street corner.

The evacuating jeeps sped towards us.

With a bang, the car door slammed shut.

The world seemed to suddenly fall silent.

No, that's just an illusion.

Gunfire continued outside, both near and far.

Daniel lay slumped on his seat, his chest heaving violently, his breathing shallow and rapid.

Blood dripped down his hair and onto the floor, drop by drop.

The carriage was swaying, and the vibrations from the metal sheets traveled up my spine.

After an unknown amount of time, he finally regained consciousness.

The suit jacket was nowhere to be found.

The shirt was soaked with blood and clung to his body, damp and clinging.

Daniel was unsure how to react.

"."

"What is this?" he asked incredulously after a long pause.

Wallace also looked disheveled at this moment, but his expression was extremely solemn.

“This is a form of war, Daniel.”

He paused for a moment, seemingly searching for the right words.

"But our Vietnamese friends did not show much persuasiveness." [1]

(End of this chapter)