War Photographer's Notebook

Chapter 12 Dog Skin Plaster
After being tossed about by this bastard professor who came and went like a breeze, Wei Ran completely lost his sleepiness.After locking the shutter door again, he took the film negatives he had taken by himself and scanned them into the computer first, then he went into his room, put his left hand under the beam of the desk lamp, and carefully observed the delicate tattoo on the tiger's mouth .

"If my mother sees this, she can't beat me to death?" Wei Ran rubbed it vigorously, as expected, there was no possibility of any color fading.

Taking a deep breath, he tried his best to relax himself, then his hand sank slightly, and the cowhide notebook really appeared in his hand.

"Ugh!"

The moment he saw this cowhide book, Wei Ran sighed with a tangled face. If he could, he really didn't want this broken book that could send him back to World War II.

"Being a peaceful dog, don't leave people alone." Wei Ran struggled for a long time, stood up resolutely and pushed open the window, raised his hand and threw the cowhide book in his hand out forcefully.

"Snapped!"

However, before he could sit down, the tiger's mouth of his left hand felt as if he had been hit hard by a ruler, and then the book returned to his hand.

"Are you made of dog skin plaster?"

Wei Ran, who was about to cry but had no tears, was furious. He searched through boxes and cabinets to find a lighter, and put the small scorched yellow flame on the pages of the cowhide book.

"Hiss—what the hell!"

The moment the flame touched the cowhide book, Wei Ran threw the lighter in his hand, and then rubbed the tiger's mouth and screamed in pain. The flame did burn the cowhide book just now, but let's forget about the book. But his own tiger's mouth turned red like it was scalded by a branding iron.

"What evil did I do in my previous life?"

Wei Ran looked at the cowhide notebook that was still lying on the table, and sighed frowningly.After all, what's the point of just hanging around in this peaceful age and waiting to die?

Even if this book can completely trace the history of the T-34 tank, so what?If he had a choice, he really didn't want to risk his life to witness or participate in that period of history full of wars.I don't even want to experience the powerless feeling of being unable to do anything except press the shutter again.

But in the current situation, it seems that it may be impossible for him to throw this thing away.Not only can it not be thrown away, but there is a high probability that I might be sent back to the battlefield of World War II for some reason.

Since he can't throw it away and can't escape, in the situation where he has to take risks anyway, using this thing to earn some hard money may become his only choice.

It is undeniable that the benefits brought about by the Battle of Stalingrad really moved his heart. Not to mention the investigation fee for the T-34 tank, all of them add up, and the profit is at least 600,000%. 60,000 rubles, converted into RMB, is [-] yuan. If the photos I took can be sold at the price the professor said, I am afraid that the profit will be doubled directly.

For a college student who just graduated, the courage brought by this number is enough to challenge most dangers!

"Done!"

Wei Ran, who had difficulty persuading himself, opened the notebook under the desk lamp again, and began to analyze the reason why this thing could bring him back to Stalingrad.

There is no doubt that all of this is inseparable from the T-34 tank outside the door.So is it controllable as long as the laptop is not allowed to "see" something similar?

Wei Ran tried over and over again the process of turning a cowhide notebook into a tattoo and vice versa, but he had more and more doubts in his heart.

Can this book bring me back to any era with the help of related items?If so, how to control that metal quill to draw related items according to its own decision?Is it "safe" as long as it stays tattooed?

On the other hand, the last time I returned to Stalingrad during World War II, if I died in that bloody battlefield, would I really die?And this leads to several other key questions, can I bring things there?For example, make a blue light.
Taking out the PPK pistol that was still in his trouser pocket, Wei Ran shook his head in disappointment. It is probably impossible to bring things there, and it seems that apart from the negatives, it is impossible for him to bring things back.

Otherwise, at least he must have a submachine gun in his hand.Fortunately, at least I figured out the origin of that tank.
Thinking of this, Wei Ran was stunned suddenly, put aside what he brought back, maybe he can really bring something there!After all, although the "hardware" cannot be carried over, at least the "software" must be fine!

It seems that we need to find a place to learn some real skills as soon as possible. Wei Ran turned off the lamp, took off his clothes lazily, and lay down on the bed.

In the early morning of the next day, just after dawn, the clanging rolling shutter door woke Wei Ran up again.Sleepy-eyed Wei Ran opened the door in a daze, and then saw his wife standing outside with a face full of anger.

"Auntie, why did you go to work so early today?" Wei Ran asked in bewilderment.

"Where's that bastard?" Zhou Shujin asked through gritted teeth.

"teach him"

"Fart professor, call him uncle!" Zhou Shujin corrected Wei Ran, while raising her hand and knocking on Wei Ran's forehead hard.

"It hurts!" Wei Ran hurriedly took a step back holding his head,
"Let's not talk about him first, what's the matter with the tattoo on your hand?" Zhou Shujin asked while holding Wei Ran's wrist.

"Well." Wei Ran said pretendingly, "I'm not reminding myself to read more and study hard."

"Then how about my aunt engrave the word 'Zao' on your forehead?"

Zhou Shujin didn't follow Wei Ran's tricks, "Since you love studying so much, you should stop doing the tour guide work in the future, and stop the work in this studio. I will talk to your uncle later, and you continue reading Let's research."

"Study in graduate school?" Wei Ran swallowed hard, "Do you think I'm that material? I'll dry the salt and forget it."

"Stop talking to me, wash it, or I will ask your mother to come and take you to wash it." Zhou Shujin said with a look of disgust.

I do want to wash it.
Wei Ran muttered to himself, and said flatteringly, "Auntie, let me tell you why uncle went there, can we not mention tattoos in the future?"

"I said no, do you dare not tell me?" Zhou Shujin asked with her arms akimbo.

"Don't dare..." Wei Ran only thought about it for less than a second, and sold Professor Alexey without any hesitation.

"So you two can finally make money this time?" Zhou Shujin asked while flipping through the photo album still in the box.

"That's not!"

Wei Ran said proudly, "Listen to the teacher. Listen to what my uncle said. These old photos have been washed out, and one of them can be sold for old nose money."

"No wonder you dare to run at night without a shadow"

Zhou Shujin kicked the wooden box under the workbench with her toes while speaking, "Take it to the old lady next door, and then call him. If he doesn't come back before I make dinner, I'll find it in the shredder. These bastards!"

"Okay!" Before Wei Ran finished speaking, he picked up the box in a desperate manner.

"And the tattoo on your paw." Zhou Shujin said as she walked out, "I'll give you a month to wash it, or I'll go back to school for graduate school."

"I'll wash it, I'll wash it after I'm busy these two days!"

Wei Ran agreed with a low eyebrow and pleasing to the eye, this little aunt may not have any blood relationship with half of his cells, but she is definitely stricter than her own mother.As for what to do after one month, that will naturally be discussed after one month.

Honestly, he carried the wooden box and sent it to the travel agency next door. By the way, he took advantage of his aunt's strength to push away the boring work of developing photos. Wei Ran cheated a bunch of sunflowers from the little girl at the front desk of the travel agency. Not far from Mamayev Hill, he called Professor Alexey by the way.

(End of this chapter)