The Middle East: From War Correspondent to Middle Eastern Influencer

Wu Hen stood still and took the AK-47 automatic rifle off his back. These war correspondents had all received basic training before heading to their base.

He moved the fire selector on the right side of the gun, shifting it down two notches from the safe position to single-fire mode.

By the faint starlight, Wu Hen could make out the outlines of those things.

Those were African wolves in the Libyan desert, or more accurately, a hybrid of a pack of hungry desert wild dogs and wolves.

They are not as large as North American gray wolves, but they are more shriveled and thin. In this war-torn country, there are too many corpses in the wilderness, and these animals have long been accustomed to the taste of human flesh and blood.

Now, a lone human, covered in blood, is seen by them as a delicious late-night snack.

"Waaah~"

The alpha wolf lowered its forequarters and growled, probing its prey's strength.

The dozen or so wolves around them began to spread out in a fan shape. This is a standard tactic for wolf packs: surround, harass, exhaust the prey, and then swarm in.

Wu Hen took two steps back, pressing his back tightly against the abandoned motorcycle. In the wilderness, encountering a pack of wolves and exposing his back to them was tantamount to suicide.

He took a deep breath. He couldn't run; two legs could never outrun four.

He couldn't just fire indiscriminately. Although he had a gun, there were less than thirty bullets in a magazine. While firing in bursts was certainly satisfying, the accuracy was too low in the dark without night vision goggles. Once he ran out of bullets, even with a military bayonet, he would definitely be torn to shreds by these beasts.

We must defeat the wolf king to establish our authority in one fell swoop.

The wolf king seemed to sense its prey's composure, an unusual trait that made it somewhat agitated. It took two steps forward, then suddenly lunged at Wu Hen's throat with all its might!

Wu Hen did not dodge. He was unusually calm at this moment, pressing the butt of the AK-47 firmly against his right shoulder, aiming the crosshair at the Wolf King's head, and decisively pulling the trigger with his index finger.

"Bang! Bang! Bang!"

Three gunshots shattered the silence of the Gobi Desert, the muzzle flashes gleaming in the darkness.

The distance was too close. Even if Wu Hen's marksmanship was terrible, he wouldn't miss at this distance.

Three 7.62mm bullets shattered the wolf king's skull.

The immense inertia sent its body flying backward in mid-air, crashing heavily onto the sand, its red and white brain matter mixed with blood splattering everywhere.

Animals' fear of firearms is ingrained in their genes. The tragic death of the alpha wolf caused the remaining wolves to let out a mournful howl before quickly disappearing into the darkness, vanishing without a trace in the blink of an eye.

Wu Hen held the gun in the same position for a full two minutes, and only after confirming that there was no further movement around him did he slowly lower the muzzle of the gun.

He walked up to the alpha wolf's corpse, glanced at it, and felt nauseous.

He had no time to linger. The gunshots could be heard for kilometers in the quiet night, and whether they attracted other large predators or armed men roaming the area, it wouldn't be a good thing for him.

He took out his compass to check the direction, then turned and stepped into the vast darkness.

The long, dark night finally came to an end.

As the first rays of sunlight rose above the horizon, Wu Hen had no idea how far he had walked.

The physical enhancements did significantly improve his endurance and recovery, but the enhancements did not mean he no longer needed to eat or drink; he was simply stronger than before.

As the sun rose higher, the Libyan desert revealed its terrifying side.

At 8 a.m., the temperature had already exceeded 30 degrees Celsius, and by 10 a.m., the ground temperature was approaching 50 degrees Celsius.

With each breath, I inhaled scorching hot air, which not only failed to provide oxygen but also felt like it was draining the moisture from my lungs.

There is no vegetation in the desert that can block out the sun.

We've almost finished drinking the water; we can't drink the last bottle unless it's absolutely necessary.

Wu Hen's lips were peeling off, and a thick layer of white salt frost had formed on his clothes.

Dehydration.

Wu Hen knew how deadly this state was. In the desert, once a person loses more than 10% of their body fluids, they will experience hallucinations, organ failure, and eventually become a dried-up corpse.

He stopped with difficulty, took out the last bottle of water from his backpack, unscrewed the cap, tilted his head back, took a mouthful of water, but did not swallow it immediately.

The water moistened the swollen tongue and dry mucous membranes until it was completely diluted with saliva, then it was divided into two mouthfuls and slowly swallowed into the stomach.

His vision began to blur, and the distant sand dunes appeared to be distorted into waves by the intense heat. If he didn't cool down and replenish his fluids as soon as possible, he could only hold on for a maximum of two hours.

A new day has begun, and the daily check-in count has been reset.

[Current host location detected: Libyan desert. Sign in now?]

"Sign in...sign in."

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

[Item Obtained: Purified Water (3 Liters)]

[Item Acquired: High-calorie compressed dry rations (three days' rations for a single soldier)]

As soon as he finished speaking, Wu Hen felt the tactics behind him sink down.

He mustered his spirits and eagerly took off his backpack.

Unzip it up, and a military green water bladder lies quietly inside, next to several compressed biscuits wrapped in tin foil, and a tactical tent rolled into a cylinder.

Wu Hen grabbed the water bag and turned on the valve.

He didn't lose his mind and drink excessively. Drinking too much in a state of extreme dehydration would not only prevent absorption but could also lead to water intoxication and violent vomiting, which would hasten death.

He suppressed his physical urges, first squeezing out a little water to moisten his lips, then swallowing in small sips, pausing for a few seconds before taking the second sip.

The sweet, cool, pure water slid down the esophagus into the stomach, and the parched body cells, like parched land receiving rain, frantically absorbed this life-saving moisture.

It took Wu Hen a full half hour to drink about 500 milliliters of water. His stomach finally stopped spasming, and the dizziness in his mind lessened considerably.

Next, he tore open a packet of compressed dry rations. These military rations didn't taste very good, you could even say they were unpalatable, but to Wu Hen, who was starving, they tasted better than any delicacy. After swallowing half a piece of the rations with water, the salt and calories he had lost began to slowly return.

Temperatures continue to rise, and the desert at midday is a no-man's land.

But he had no choice; he had to keep going.

After resting for a while and regaining some of his strength, Wu Hen took out the military map he had taken from the TV station office from a hidden compartment in his backpack.

He measured the map with his finger.

"Tripoli is here. Last night I rode my motorcycle east-southeast for about three hours at a speed of about 60 kilometers per hour, and then walked for five or six hours..."

His finger traced the coastline eastward, stopping at a blank area representing a desert.

"My current location should have already bypassed Tadjoura and is in the heart of the Gobi Desert south of the coastal highway to Misrata. It is at least 800 kilometers away from my final destination, Benghazi."

Walking 800 kilometers across the desert on foot? That's a pipe dream; he needs to get a vehicle.

In this no-man's-land, the only way to get a car is to get close to the highway or to transportation hubs controlled by armed forces.

Wu Hen walked and stopped intermittently, covering only about ten kilometers in a single day.

It wasn't until the sun set and the ground temperature dropped below 30 degrees Celsius again that he replenished his strength and, under the cover of night, quickened his pace to continue his journey eastward toward the highway.

It took about two hours to walk.

Wu Hen stopped and quickly lay down on the opposite slope of a sand dune.

He took out his home binoculars from his backpack and saw a scene about 500 meters away.

It was a narrow road that cut through two towering hills, and the only vital thoroughfare within dozens of kilometers that allowed vehicles to pass normally.

At this time, an armed checkpoint was set up in the middle of the highway.

There were roadblocks at the checkpoint, and behind the roadblocks were two modified Toyota Hilux pickup trucks.

Each of the two vehicles had a Russian-made 12.7mm DShK heavy machine gun welded to its side.

In addition to these two heavy artillery pieces, at least fifteen fully armed soldiers were stationed around the checkpoint. Some were smoking around the campfire, while others were patrolling from high vantage points with rifles in hand.

Judging from their uniform camouflage and their positions, they are very likely opposition armed groups.