The Middle East: From War Correspondent to Middle Eastern Influencer

Inside the carriage, warm liquid was gushing from Mark's throat. He stared in horror at his blood-stained hands and gradually lost consciousness.

Wu Hen was sprinting frantically. Enhanced hearing plays a significant role on the battlefield. It's like playing an FPS game; good headphones allow you to hear the enemy's calls more clearly.

Wu Hen heard a PKM machine gun firing wildly from a two-story building fifty meters away.

"Da da da da!"

Blind spots.

The machine gunner's gun was now pointed at the barricade at ten o'clock, and the alley to his right, which he was rushing towards, was right in the enemy's blind spot. The road was full of potholes, scattered with broken bricks and some incomplete limbs. Without slowing down, he grabbed his AK-47 and plunged headfirst into the dark alley.

As soon as he plunged into the shadows of the alley, Wu Hen immediately leaned against the wall riddled with bullet holes, panting heavily.

[Host detected entering: Benghazi ruins alley.]

[This area meets the basic check-in requirements. Do you wish to check in now?]

"Check-in".

[Check-in successful! Congratulations, host, on completing the basic check-in in the Ruins Alley.]

[Reward: Personal attribute panel unlocked.]

[Gain basic attribute bonus: Strength +1.]

A semi-transparent virtual panel appeared before his eyes:

Host: Wu Hen

Age: 22 years old

Basic attributes: The standard value for all the following average adult males is 10.

Power: 30

Agility: 35

Stamina: 33

Perception: 20

Skill Tree:

Proficient in basic Arabic

Military combat skills (proficient)

Basic Firearms Knowledge (Mastery)

[Current Buff]

无

The panel was simple, without any fancy experience bars or task lists, which pleased Wu Hen.

Just then, a series of chaotic footsteps suddenly came from outside the alley.

"Damn it, we just saw one alive run out, but we don't know which way it went. We've already searched the two dead ones!"

Two soldiers dressed in khaki camouflage uniforms and with headscarves wrapped around their heads were walking towards the alley entrance, guns at the ready, while cautiously looking around.

Clearly, they were avoiding the main battlefield's fire and wanted to catch their breath in this alley while looting the spoils of war.

The two were getting closer and closer to Wu Hen: ten meters, nine meters, eight meters.

He didn't intend to use an AK; firing at that distance would attract all the nearby militants with its loud gunfire.

Moreover, using rifles would allow two people to focus their fire, and the best way to win with fewer troops is naturally to launch a sneak attack!

He gently leaned the rifle against the corner of the wall, and his right hand silently slid to the outside of his thigh, drawing out a multi-functional military bayonet with a backhand motion.

The two stragglers were completely focused on the alleyway outside and had no idea that someone was hiding in the depths of the darkness.

The moment the first soldier entered within two meters of Wu Hen, Wu Hen moved.

In a swift movement, he covered the soldier's mouth from behind with his left hand, preventing him from calling for help! He then slammed his knee into the soldier's back, while his right hand, gripping the bayonet, precisely plunged it into the soldier's heart!

There wasn't much blood; the first soldier fell without even making a sound.

Battlefield survival rule: The best move is to kill with a single blow.

The soldier's voice drew the attention of the soldiers in front of him.

The second soldier heard the noise and was about to turn around when Wu Hen had already pulled the bloodstained dagger from the first enemy's heart. Without pausing, he used the momentum of turning around to deliver a powerful low sweeping kick with his right leg, striking the second soldier's shin heavily.

The soldier groaned and his body involuntarily knelt down. Before he could even scream, Wu Hen's M9 bayonet had already plunged into his carotid artery, twisted it, and pulled it out.

Blood gushed out, splattering onto the dusty walls.

The whole process took less than ten seconds, and was clean and efficient.

Wu Hen flicked the blood off the blade and sheathed the bayonet.

He quickly crouched down and began searching the two gradually cooling corpses. The loot was meager: four AK magazines full of bullets, two fragmentation grenades, and a crushed pack of Marlboro cigarettes.

He stuffed the magazines and grenades into the side pocket of his tactical backpack and continued to make his way deeper into the alley.

A few minutes later, Wu Hen sneaked into a house that looked like it had been abandoned for a long time.

With half the roof collapsed, he tiptoed over a pile of fallen furniture, preparing to go to the second floor to find a high point to observe the situation outside.

Just as he passed the corner of the stairs on the first floor, he heard a faint breathing sound.

Wu Hen instantly raised his gun, aiming it at the corner below the stairs, which was hidden by a few broken wooden planks.

"Come out," he whispered in Arabic.

There was no response from the corner, but the wooden plank trembled slightly.

Wu Hen stepped forward and used the barrel of his gun to pry open the wooden board.

Two people were huddled in the corner.

A local woman wearing a black robe was holding a little boy who looked to be only five or six years old.

The boy's face was covered in dust and tears, and the woman's eyes were filled with fear and pleading. Her body was trembling, and her hands were clasped together.

Perhaps they were begging him not to shoot, or perhaps they were begging him for some food.

Wu Hen's gaze lingered on them for two seconds. It was a very complex look in his eyes.

If this happened in peacetime, he would definitely lend a helping hand without hesitation.

But now...

This is the heart of the fighting in Benghazi. He wasn't even sure if he would survive until tomorrow. Carrying two defenseless civilians meant he would have to share precious drinking water and food, his movement speed would be greatly slowed down, and he might get shot in the head while taking care of them when they encountered the enemy.

He doesn't want to die.

Wu Hen expressionlessly put away the gun barrel, kicked the wooden board back into place to cover the corner, then turned around and resolutely walked up the creaking stairs to the second floor.

In these ruins, mercy is the most expensive luxury, and he can no longer afford it.

Upon reaching the second floor, Wu Hen found a relatively secluded window and cautiously peeked out, observing the street outside. At the nearby intersection, a government armored vehicle was retreating, while opposition forces were using the surrounding buildings to hold out relentlessly. Smoke filled the air, and the battle was exceptionally fierce.

Just as he was pondering which direction to retreat in, a cry for help suddenly rang out amidst the chaotic gunfire outside.

The voice, or rather the tone, was so familiar! So familiar that he could instantly conjure up a face in his mind.

He immediately grabbed the AK-47 beside him and locked his gaze on the direction from which the sound came—a house less than fifty meters away from the residential building.