Chapter 65: Battlefield Reporter (2/2)

It was going to be difficult to locate them but I had never disregarded her words.

Of course, being a battlefield reporter wasn't as dangerous as it seems.

Reporters should be fine if they just stay low and wait the war out.

If one party claims victory over the other, or when the reporters have been held captive by either party, they would be released upon producing the necessary doc.u.ments since their job was well-respected by people.

On the Black Eagle side lies a vast gra.s.sland, once a paradise for the nomadic herdsmen.

The keyword was 'once'.

Just yesterday, in the vehicle carrying army supplies en route to Golden Sun Empire, I already had the newest report and headlines ready for publis.h.i.+ng.

When the vehicle stopped by a small encampment to rest, I heard some soldiers talking about a homicidal maniac running about in the village.

Their conversations piqued my interest, but the photographer did not dare to accompany me in.

He said he was tired and that lunatics produced by war were more frightening than soldiers.

My objective wasn't just to photograph the events but rather to fulfill Mother's wishes.

To see if there were any mojito tribesmen inside and to convey her longings.

I dropped my bag and informed the photographer that I would return in an hour.

Carrying his camera with me, I entered alone.

There were beautiful landscapes along the way but I was not in the mood to appreciate them.

It was a hamlet, where houses were made from wooden planks and other makes.h.i.+ft materials.

When I reached the village, it was totally empty. I figured that the villagers were hiding from the maniac.

During the war, there simply was no time for the soldiers to protect the villagers from such maniacs.

The chaos caused by these maniacs became negligible in face of real war.

As I was about to leave in disappointment, I noticed two shadows in a corner.

One stood on the spot, panicking, while the other held onto a dagger with a face full of malevolence.

He must be the maniac, I guessed.

The panicking victim was stumbling and falling clumsily to the ground.

Just as the killer was about to attack, he spotted me. He immediately turned away and fled.

I quickly made the chase, trying to capture whatever footage I could with the shaking camera.

While my first reaction should've been to save the victim, it would be more effective to restrain the killer.

I thought about how I would be able to run much faster without the camera.

I decided to drop it as I turned a corner and it, indeed, increased my chasing speed.

When I held the killer down with my body, he struggled non-stop beneath me.

I s.n.a.t.c.hed his dagger and stabbed him.

I walked over to the camera and was about to save the clip when a bunch of villagers rushed over.

I waved my hands over and tried to explain the situation to them, but they threw me onto the ground and pressed me against it.

Fl.u.s.tered, I tried to clear the misunderstanding, thinking ahead about how I would become the village hero and how I would call for the mojito tribesmen.

But before I could finish, I was dragged, along with the victim, and thrown into the local jail.

I was accused of being an accomplice and the evidence was the camera in my hands.

It turned out that the camera had managed to capture the corpses hidden within bushes and corners.

All I could think of were Mother's wishes.

And that victim, or so I had thought, was the real maniac and that his dagger had been taken away by the real victim before he could attack.

That maniac wasn't in his right mind, so seeing that I've killed the last man for him made him believe that I was on his side.

He then told the police about it confidently, and as in his statement, I did kill a helpless villager.

While giving his statement, he kept calling me his partner, saying that he would see me again in the same cell.

My ident.i.ty as a reporter and my side of the story wasn't being taken seriously because I was from Golden Sun Empire.

Most importantly, my work pa.s.s was in my bag, which I had handed over to the cameraman before leaving.

Aside from the camera, there was nothing else, not even a pen or paper, to verify my ident.i.ty.

Even my possession of the camera made them think that I was going to release the clip online to satisfy some sort of perverse desire.

As for the vehicle and the cameraman, they had decided that I was murdered, since I did not return by the promised hour, and quickly left for Golden Sun.

The camera had clearly captured the whole killing process and the clip was publicized on the national television in Black Eagle Empire.

At the same time, in Golden Sun Empire, televisions were broadcasting the battlefield reports that I had been hosting from the frontline.

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