bit stealing game

Chapter 89
An Arabic proverb says: If there is heaven on earth, Damascus must be in it; if heaven is in the sky, Damascus must be as famous as it.The ancient city of Palmyra, located in the desert northeast of Damascus, was once known as the "Bride of the Syrian Desert".Years of wars have cast a layer of sadness on the bride's delicate face, making her unable to open her face again.

Young people are greeted by the dry air as soon as they step into Damascus.

"Hello, Damascus."

Syria is located in the [Land of the Rising Sun] in the eyes of Westerners.The desert is swallowing the little humidity, and the heat visible to the naked eye slowly rises from the ground, and the extremely strong ultraviolet rays can pass through the clean air smoothly.When sunlight falls on the skin, there will be a burning pain.The heat isn't just from the sun, however.

Mountains are the bones of this place, and minerals are the heart of this place, as well as the moat of peace.

The scene in other Syrian cities is more chaotic than in the capital.Contractors such as American soldiers and private security companies are rampant here, and their own damage is not counted. Over the years, the Fertile Crescent that once gave birth to an ancient and prosperous civilization has been scarred and devastated.

Oil is a good thing.

The young man was wearing a flight jacket and sunglasses, and capital allowed him to walk sideways in this land full of American soldiers.Besides oil, he's probably the most popular one.

This oil field controlled by the US military is in the hinterland of the desert, surrounded by scattered small towns.The local residents, who are full of hatred and fear of the invaders, have been used to rebuilding their homes on the ruins for several years, and then took over a piece of ruins.It's like they accept those foreigners stealing oil from their land and leaving blood and tears as part of their lives.

The mosque was the first to be rebuilt.Under Allah's sky full of holes, people knelt down in the street, hoping for a distant peace.

Youth does not respect anyone, anything, not even the most important God for Italians.He grew up on an island surrounded by sea on three sides by a cliff, where there are countless churches.When he was young, he prayed to God countless times to have the same appearance as others.It would be fine if he was just an indifferent person, but he happened to be the godfather's son, a bastard who defiled the family.

Young people grow up in a privileged environment and in solitude. Syrian children grow up in a closed and dangerous environment.In the world they are familiar with, there are planes that fly by like flocks of birds and drop missiles.These children have hopeful faces, laughing and squeezing towards this gentle foreigner.

The locals saw the young man as just another white guy looking for excitement.He claims he's a globe-trotting graduate who's alone because his partner just broke up with him, but he's not drawn to the desert itself.

The young man gave a timid little guy the chocolate he was carrying with him.

"Sweet!" The child opened his clear eyes wide and smiled on his dusty cheeks. "Can I take this home and give it to my sister?" The child was used to the harm brought by this world, and this was the first time he tasted the sweetness of life.His sister hasn't tasted it yet.The war in Syria has only been around for a few years for the world, but that's the whole life of a child.

After listening to the translation, the young man was at a loss.He had come to take another bite from the country's many bones, because he wanted to prove his loyalty to the family.Of course he can start another war, he's here to do business.

The old man who sold the fabric kindly warned this sweet foreigner that he must be vigilant at all times.Because the only constants here are war and chaos.The old man regarded the young man as just another white man who came to adventure in an unknown world.What he doesn't know is that youth brings much more than chocolate.

The young man thanked him and paid more dollars than the unit price in exchange for a distinctive square scarf around his neck.

The labyrinthine Grand Bazaar is a great place for deals, and people are always happy to pay for necessities.Youth has in its hands what will last eternity.This will bring a considerable fortune to his family, and it will keep children from knowing what peace is for a long time to come.After all, chaos brings the best chances of winning.

When the explosion sounded, the young man was still thinking about how to use mediation to get the buyer to use the weapon and avoid residential areas.

The child who just got the chocolate got out of nowhere in the maze, and pulled his clothes corner, obviously knowing what happened.The young man stooped and followed the boy into a small aisle on the side.

"He was saying: 'It's just a bomb, get down and hold your head, it'll be over soon'. Like this." A middle-aged mercenary in a body armor squatted next to him and made a gesture of hugging his head: "It happens from time to time. Don't you see those bullet holes?"

The youth kept the boy behind him vigilantly.The American mercenary winked at him. "I guess you are the one who came to deliver the 'package'? No wonder they are not afraid that you will not come back."

"It's you?" The young man ignored the other meaning in his words, and scolded with angry eyes: "This is all civilians, and there are children!"

The man feigned surprise. "I would also like to thank your family, otherwise we would not have enough equipment to go to the market to waste. Wait, if it weren't for you, those rebels would not have the power to fight back."

Could it be weapons that started the war?The young man couldn't answer, and looked around dejectedly.When he met the child's eyes, his young face quickly drooped, showing some remorse and helplessness.

"What are you thinking, kind mafia young master?" The mercenary, now that the young man knows his name is Chris, and the two of them still have a deal to make, said in a flat tone: "He grew up in the flames of war." Yes, I am familiar with these. People who are hungry can endure pain more, and poverty is a luxury here."

Compared with them, American soldiers who love war most are less used to war and suffering.

Mercenary Chris is a retired Navy SEAL member.A person who is used to the flames of war is not willing to be restrained by the civilized world. He just got off the unjust battlefield and turned around to join the mercenary group.Or a Middle Eastern military mission contractor.

After the indiscriminate attack came to an end, the young man followed the child to a simple shelter.The inexplicable mercenary was not allowed to enter the door of this house.The boy's name was "Adis", which means "flame".In the evening, the silent host put down the heavy tapestry and told stories to his children and guests from a foreign land.Without a translator, the young man certainly couldn't understand what the man was saying, but he could understand the look in his eyes.Those eyes that are used to seeing the joys and sorrows of life and death revealed a firm belief: I will definitely persevere, and a normal life will not be just a fairy tale for our children.

Both sides of the war were surprisingly young for the most part.

The most terrifying thing in war is not killing people, but killing benevolence.It's too easy to die here.If it weren't for the special status of the young man, he might have died long ago.Living with death is another kind of experience.After seeing how indifferent and cruel soldiers and ordinary people can become under the flames of war for years, the young man can no longer continue to talk about that business.Those who were left on this land were soldiers for the motherland, some believers for the faith, some soldiers for the oil, and some desperadoes for money.Those who are for the country and their families have light in their eyes.They are not afraid, not afraid of death, they fall on the road of guarding.

The youth itself is a passionate and self-conscious person. The sunshine of the Mediterranean has created his nature that is inconsistent with the rules, and the strong protection brought by his assets has also allowed him to maintain the innocence and beauty that will not fade for a long time.This kindness is just a stumbling block in the face of interests.The same is true for young people in front of "family" people.What's more, besides this framing, he was also involved in something more dangerous than the arms deal.

After deciding to break off the deal, the young man was hunted down and fled in various ways in Syria, during which he also became acquainted with the mercenary Chris.He is an unwilling abandoned child.Once they fled to a mountain village in the northwest, disguised as war reporters.A local girl was getting married.

A Syrian child of her age knew nothing but war.

"She's younger than my daughter. My little pumpkin is preparing for college and she's married," Chris said. "But her family has no other way. In war, survival is more important."

The young man watched silently, the groom was enough to be the girl's father.In the war, there is no such thing as a suitable bride.

Of course the mercenary named Chris didn't make it out of the desert, he died in another explosion.It was noon, and the flames of war raised by successive explosions covered the sky and the sun, and there was no light.Before he died, he was about to take out his daughter's photo from his pocket and show it to the young man, saying that after doing this, he would be able to pay for his daughter's college tuition.As his father, he has been absent for too long, and it will be too late to do anything.

"My last customer lost something and I helped him find it, but he gave me this." Chris lay on the rubble, choking on a few mouthfuls of ash from the bombing.His whole body was pierced by gravel, and his whole body was like a leaky sponge. "That thing will bring endless wealth, and endless curse. I'm not a good person, but I know they can't get it. Go to that big bazaar, you know where to find it."

The youth knelt on the ruins.He hadn't groomed for a few days, and he had a ragged stubble growing on his chin, and he had never been so embarrassed in his life.But shaving with aftershave in a desert full of struggle is a crime.

"My little pumpkin said that her father is a hero." Chris's dilated pupils stared at the sun blocked by the dust, and he turned his eyeballs sideways to look at the young man. "Is he?"

Youth puts on sunglasses.He has to go.When he comes back next time, he won't bring a weapon, he won't bring an ammunition order, maybe some toys, and he can help the people here reset their homes.Before that, he still had a father, a hero's entrustment to fulfill.This has nothing to do with youth.Even if he didn't come, Chris couldn't survive.But the young man took this life and the responsibility he failed to bear.

In the Grand Bazar that was almost razed to the ground, the youth's epiphany was never his choice of fate.Each time, fate found him.The mercenary who stole the information stole a piece of ore that could knock on the door of the treasure house.What made the mercenary Chris hunted down was a piece of sunshine soaked in blood.

In this world, whoever has the most chips and whose fists are hard will be listened to.

It's not that the country whose heart has been gouged out doesn't feel pain, it's just that the roar and bitter cry cannot be spread.Syria has no way to prove its innocence, because she is rich, beautiful and weak.Her people are speechless, her ruins are speechless, and her future may be speechless.

But the flame will keep burning.

The national flag torn apart by the war fluttered under the caress of the wind.Roses bloomed on the wounds.

The mottled walls of the ancient city are full of hope and prosperity, and the gods unfold the scroll of the past, overlooking the broken walls and ruins in reality, this ancient battlefield.On the collapsed steps of the Baalshamin Temple, the young man looked at the glint of light in this land of suffering through the [Eye of Eternity].It was gold everywhere, the sun reflecting off the barrel of a gun, and hope.It is what countless people may never see again, that is about to fall, about to rise, the brilliant thousand suns.

　【A Thousand Splendid Suns】is an Arabic poem depicting the beauty of Kabul, Afghanistan.It was originally set that Arno went to Afghanistan to get the [Eternal Eye], but what is going on there is far more sad than I can spy or even imagine.

　　Here is a part of [A Thousand Splendid Suns]
　　[Kilz chose to go to heaven through Kabul
　　Her majestic mountains bring him closer to Allah

　　A dragon sits on her towering walls

　　The preciousness of each city brick is far better than the treasures of the city
　　Every street in Kabul is eye-catching

　　Caravans from Egypt pass through its streets and markets

　　No one can tell how many rounds of bright moons have hung on her eaves
　　I can't even count the thousand brilliant suns outside the walls of her courtyard]

　　
　　
　
(End of this chapter)