The Middle East: From War Correspondent to Middle Eastern Influencer

In March 2011, the scorching sun of North Africa was mercilessly torn apart by black smoke and the flames of war.

Tripoli, Libya, once a prosperous Mediterranean coastal city, has now become a living hell.

The roar of fighter jets echoed continuously in the sky.

Warplanes from a multinational coalition including Britain, France, and the United States dropped heavy guided bombs on the ground, each violent explosion resulting in the deaths of several people.

The once bustling market on the street had long since turned into ruins. The strong smell of gunpowder and the faint smell of blood mixed together and flowed into every corner of the city with the breeze.

On the television screen, Gaddafi's hysterical speech was playing on a loop. The dictator waved his fists and desperately called on his supporters to take up arms and fight against the so-called opposition forces and NATO troops.

However, for Wu Hen, who was trapped in the Libyan branch office of Al Arabiya, all of this was nonsense. All he was thinking about now was how to survive.

Wu Hen, male, 22 years old, is a Chinese student studying in the Arab world. He is currently an intern war correspondent for Al Arabiya in Libya.

"boom!"

Another deafening explosion occurred less than two blocks from the branch office. The massive shockwave shook the office's blast-proof glass, and dust fell from the ceiling, landing on Wu Hen's sweat-soaked bulletproof vest.

"Damn it! Why am I here?!" Wu Hen cursed his decision countless times in his mind.

A month ago, facing the pressure of graduation internship, he happened to see that Al Arabiya was recruiting overseas interns. Considering that war correspondents may sound dangerous, they usually just stay in the safe green zone and write press releases most of the time. Moreover, the internship period is very short. As long as he can get through these two short months, he can graduate smoothly with an internship certificate and then quickly buy a plane ticket back home.

Who could have imagined that the situation would deteriorate so quickly! What started as small-scale protests and demonstrations quickly escalated into a full-scale war involving multinational forces.

At this moment, the huge branch office was empty, leaving him all alone. His mentor, Mohammed, the Libyan translator who was familiar with various regions of the Middle East, had rushed out of the company with a photographer twenty minutes earlier, saying that he was going to capture the first-hand footage.

Before leaving, Muhammad patted Wu Hen on the shoulder: "Stay here, don't go anywhere, and lock the door!"

Wu Hen did as instructed, but this did not bring him even the slightest sense of security.

The gunfire on the street grew increasingly intense. What had started as sporadic bursts of AK-47 fire had now escalated into a barrage of gunfire, and he even heard the sound of RPGs being fired.

The neighborhood is in complete chaos, with opposition forces, government troops, and looters taking advantage of the situation.

"Bang bang bang!"

A rapid burst of bullets swept across the exterior wall of the branch office building, and several stray bullets shattered the windows in the corridor.

Wu Hen stared wide-eyed in horror.

He knew that the office was no longer safe. The rioting crowd didn't care about the Green Zone; they could break down the door at any moment and loot the place.

"No, we can't stay here and wait to die!"

Wu Hen took a deep breath and quickly scanned the entire office.

My gaze finally settled on a gray iron door at the end of the corridor; that was the branch office's storage room.

There were no windows there, and the walls were load-bearing, making it the ideal temporary refuge.

Without any hesitation, Wu Henlian quickly ran to the storage room, pushed open the heavy iron door with all his might, and then locked it from the inside.

The storage room was pitch black. Wu Hen leaned against the iron door, panting heavily, his back completely soaked with sweat.

Listening to the various sounds outside the door, a deep sense of powerlessness and despair welled up in my heart.

Without weapons, without rescue, without food, even the master didn't know if he was still alive...

[The host has been detected to be in a battlefield environment, meeting the activation requirements.]

[The Battlefield Throne check-in system is currently being linked.]

[Binding successful!]

Wu Hen was stunned. A hallucination? A stress-induced schizophrenia caused by extreme fear?

However, the voice rang in his mind again.

[The host can check in once a day.]

[New player rewards: For the first three days after binding your account to the system, you have unlimited daily check-ins, with the system randomly selecting winners.]

[Check-in Rules: The more dangerous and crucial the check-in location, the richer the reward the host will receive!]

System? Check-in?

After a brief moment of surprise, Wu Hen began to get excited.

This wasn't a hallucination! It's a real system!

[Host detected currently located at: Al Arabiya Libya Bureau Office (outside the war zone).]

[Should I perform my initial basic check-in here?]

"Check in! Check in now!"

[Check-in successful! Congratulations, host, on completing the basic check-in for the branch office!]

[First-time sign-in reward being distributed]

[Reward 1: Enhancement of basic physical attributes.]

As soon as he finished speaking, Wu Hen felt as if his body was filled with surging power.

[Bonus 2: $500 in cash.]

$500 was enough for him to buy a decent AK-47 and several full magazines on the black market.

[Reward 3: Fluency in Arabic.]

In war, language is often more effective at saving lives than bullets.

After the three rewards were distributed, the system fell silent again.

At this moment, Wu Hen stood quietly in the darkness, feeling the surging power within his body. His eyes, which were originally filled with fear and despair, were now flashing with excitement.

Just as Wu Hen was filled with excitement, a real crisis abruptly interrupted his thoughts.

"Da da da da da!"

A burst of assault rifle fire echoed in the lobby of the branch office.

"Bang!"

With a dull thud, the branch office's already flimsy door was smashed open with a heavy object.

Immediately afterwards, a chaotic stomping sound entered the floor.

"Search! Search thoroughly! Those lackeys of the Western media must have left behind a lot of valuables! Take all the valuable equipment! If you find anyone alive, kill them on sight!"

A rough Arabic male voice roared outside.

Judging from the footsteps, there were at least five or six people on the other side.

Danger is approaching at a breathtaking speed.

Footsteps began to spread throughout the office area, accompanied by the sounds of things being smashed. One of the footsteps was stepping on broken glass on the ground, approaching the storage room step by step.

"Crunch! Crunch!"

The sound of boots stepping on broken glass was amplified infinitely in the narrow corridor, as if Death were dragging its scythe closer and closer.

Wu Hen stood behind the door, took a deep breath, and pressed his body against the shadow of the side of the iron door.

"Bang!"

A foot wearing a tactical boot kicked hard at the iron door of the storage room.