The Middle East: From War Correspondent to Middle Eastern Influencer

The driver was clearly terrified by the bullet that had just grazed him; he let out a meaningless scream and slammed his foot on the accelerator.

The Land Cruiser roared wildly, its V8 engine revving instantly, the wheels spinning wildly on the gravel and shell casings, before the vehicle lurched forward into the narrow street ahead.

"Bang bang bang bang!"

A series of rapid bursts of automatic rifle fire followed from the buildings on both sides of the street.

Bullets rained down on the SUV like a storm. Although the vehicle had a prominent "PRESS" sign and basic bulletproofing, ordinary civilian bulletproofing was no match for the concentrated fire at close range.

Wu Hen could already hear the sound of bullets tearing through the outer metal of the car door and getting stuck in the bulletproof layer.

"Damn it! Turn left! There's cover on the left! Do you even know how to drive?!" Wu Hen was furious and immediately lost his temper, but the driver, in a state of panic, had completely lost his mind. His hands gripped the steering wheel tightly, his eyes were unfocused, and he was just mechanically pressing the accelerator.

"puff!"

With a dull thud, the front right tire of the SUV was blasted out by a stray bullet that seemed to come from nowhere!

At high speed, the heavy off-road vehicle instantly lost its balance, the front of the vehicle swung to the right, and it lost control.

"Fuck!"

"Damn it!"

Amidst the curses of Mark and Wuhen, the SUV crashed with a deafening roar at over 60 kilometers per hour into a makeshift barricade at the end of the street.

The massive impact caused the airbags inside the car to deploy simultaneously, sending white powder mixed with shards of broken glass flying everywhere inside the cabin! The hood was twisted and deformed from the impact, sticking up high, and antifreeze and engine oil gushed out from the ruptured lines.

The violent impact caused Wu Hen to lose consciousness for a few seconds, and his ears were ringing.

He shook his head violently, forcing himself to snap out of his daze, and immediately grabbed the AK-47 that had fallen to his feet.

Battlefield rule: Never let your weapon out of your hand.

He was breathing heavily, his nostrils filled with the smell of gunpowder, engine oil, and blood.

Honestly, the taste is pretty disgusting. How should I put it? It tastes like canned herring mixed with raw beef.

Turning my head, I saw that the driver in the driver's seat had passed out, his forehead was hitting the steering wheel, and blood was flowing down his cheek.

Mark, sitting in the passenger seat, was clutching his head tightly with both hands, curled up in the space under the dashboard, trembling all over, and uttering meaningless prayers.

"Allah! God! Jesus! Superman! Iron Man! Save me! I don't want to die here!"

The outside world has gone completely mad.

This was a chaotic street brawl with no regard for consequences.

The loud noise from the collision clearly attracted the attention of both sides.

Mortar shells exploded one after another less than fifty meters from the vehicle. The powerful shockwaves from the explosions shook the wrecked off-road vehicle violently, and a large amount of gravel and dirt hit the roof of the vehicle.

The sounds of AK-47s, PKMs, and RPG rocket launchers firing intertwine to create a death chant.

We can't get out of the car; the outside is a crossfire with no cover. If we open the door now, we'll be sitting ducks. But we can't stay in the car either; it's too big of a target. A stray bullet could blow up the fuel tank at any moment, or a misfired RPG could send us flying.

[Host detected to have penetrated deep into the core firefight zone in the outskirts of Benghazi.]

[Current hazard rating for this area: High!]

Should we immediately check in at the danger zone?

"Check-in!"

[Check-in successful! Congratulations, host, on completing the check-in in the Benghazi outskirts firefight zone.]

[Item Acquired: Advanced Battlefield First Aid Kit (contains rapid hemostatic gel, antibiotics, and adrenaline; automatically stored in system space).]

[Skills Acquired: Basic Firearms Knowledge (Master the structure, ballistics, troubleshooting, and maintenance of all mainstream small arms from World War II to the present day).]

[Gain physical buff: Enhanced hearing.]

The moment he finished speaking, Wu Hen felt a sharp pain deep in his brain, which lasted for about 10 seconds.

In the past, when he held this AK-47, all he knew was to release the safety and pull the trigger.

But now, he can clearly feel the tension of the recoil spring, judge the degree of rifling wear on the gun by touch, and even know how to adjust the sights to hit the target in different environments.

But that's not the most amazing thing.

What shocked Wu Hen the most was the change in his hearing.

At the nine o'clock position, about eighty meters away, there is a PKM general-purpose machine gun, which uses long burst fire.

At two o'clock, seventy meters away, they were using AKMs, and the firing rate was very chaotic, completely blind firing suppression.

"Mr. Mark," Wu Hen's voice came through, "what should we do in this situation?"

Upon hearing Wu Hen's voice, Mark turned his head with difficulty, his face covered in dust and the driver's blood, looking extremely disheveled.

"How should I know! You damn rookie! You damn unlucky bastard!" Mark growled. "We're surrounded! It's full of bullets! We're dead! Damn it, I'm going to call the embassy!"

"Call the embassy?" Wu Hen almost laughed out of anger. While checking the magazine of his AK, he shattered Mark's fantasy. "Are you out of your mind? This is Benghazi. Do you think the Emilia Marines would come to your rescue for a reporter from a Qatari newspaper? Even though you're Emilia, I advise you to stop dreaming."

"You!" Mark was speechless.

"Shut up, listen carefully," Wu Hen interrupted Mark.

"The machine gun at the nine o'clock position has clearly slowed down its rate of fire; it can only fire another thirty rounds at most before it has to stop."

Wu Hen pointed to a narrow alley on the right side of the car: "See that alley over there? That's my blind spot. The moment the machine gun stops firing, we only have about, I mean, ten seconds at most, to jump out of the car and run into that alley. Otherwise, if even one RPG hits us, we'll all be roasted meat in this pile of scrap metal."

Mark glanced in the direction Wu Hen pointed, and saw bullets whizzing by outside, which made him immediately pull his head back.

"No! I absolutely won't get out! The car is armored; getting out is suicide! You go if you want!"

"Bulletproof steel plates? The armor on this crappy car is already rotten." Wu Hen was too lazy to waste any more words with this idiot. He checked the chest buckle on his backpack, gripped the rifle handle with his right hand, and was ready to strike at any moment.

Just then.

"boom!"

A mortar shell that veered off target exploded less than fifty meters from the interview vehicle, and the huge shockwave, mixed with shrapnel and gravel, slammed into the off-road vehicle.

The car lurched violently, and the two left-side doors were torn apart by shrapnel.

This completely shattered Mark's mental defenses, and he realized that staying here meant certain death.

But the dense gunfire outside made his legs weak, and he dared not take a single step.

Mark suddenly turned around and stared intently at Wu Hen behind him: Since we have to break out, someone has to be in front to draw fire and act as a human shield!

He picked up a Glock 19 pistol from the ground; it was his trump card, which had fallen to the ground during the impact.

"You! Get down there!" Mark pointed his gun at Wu Hen. "Didn't you just say there was a safe route? Go down and scout it out! Hurry up!"

"Are you pointing a gun at me?"

"Stop talking nonsense! You're just an intern!" Mark roared hysterically. "I'll count to three, and if you don't get out of there, I'll kill you right now! Anyway, it's so chaotic outside, no one will care about an extra corpse!"

"One!" Mark roared.

Wu Hen didn't move, but silently placed his hand on the ground.

"Two!" Mark's finger was already on the trigger, his eyes filled with madness.

Wu Hen had already touched the glass shards.

"Three! Die! You're trash!!!"

Before he could even utter the word "bird," Mark felt a warm, comforting sensation on his neck, followed by a gush of blood! How spectacular!

Wu Hen had already kicked the door open! He jumped out of the car! Without looking back, he ran into the alley!

"Idiot!"