Shadow Empire

Chapter 757 Frontline
There is no difference between capital and gangs in some respects.

For example, when dealing with someone trying to take money out of your pocket.

It’s just that the behavior style of gangsters is more brutal, while capital is more secretive.

But their goal is the same, which is to make those who try to take money out of their pockets and put it into their own pockets go to see God!

A series of "accidents" caused the popularity of grape bricks, which had just started to explode in Likalai State, to drop suddenly, although they are still being sold on the market.

It is impossible that no one will take risks just because the rules prohibit it.

There are many things that the law does not allow ordinary people to do, whether it is something that can make people rich or something that can quickly change their class, the law does not allow ordinary people to do it.

So, will ordinary people really not do it?

Do not!
There are people who do the same thing, so these people are called criminals, and their behavior is called crime.

Lance's rules are not laws, and are inferior to laws in every way.

There are people who openly disobey the laws, so naturally not everyone will obey Lance's rules.

The emergence of grape bricks is a trend of the times. Those who cannot afford alcohol but want to drink now have more choices.

Although large quantities of grape bricks are no longer common, there are still some small-scale grape bricks for sale in Likale Province.

But the scale is always small, because once the scale becomes large, Lance will take action.

On the contrary, grape bricks began to spread rapidly in other states, and they lacked effective countermeasures. Not all gangs had the courage and ability like Lance, who dared to strike hard at all those who dared to take advantage of them.

There are even some gangs that are selling grape bricks themselves, as they want to snatch the lower-end customers as well.

When it comes to "making money", what matters is not the specific price, but the rate of return.

As long as its profits satisfy the gangs' pursuit of interests, they themselves can become the vanguard in destroying part of their own business.

This also caused fluctuations in the alcohol market throughout the federation, and the prices of low-alcohol liquor began to drop significantly.

Some gangsters cursed the bastards who made grape bricks, while at the same time they began to actively produce and sell them to grab the market. The complexity of human beings was fully displayed at this moment!
The cheap price of grape bricks has given people more choices, which may be the first good news since the implementation of Prohibition.

The era has arrived when everyone is willing to drink and can afford it!
Perhaps the gentlemen in Congress, those gentlemen who advocated that "prohibition of alcohol can make society progress faster", never dreamed of this.

Not only have they failed to free society from its dependence on alcohol, but they have created more alcoholics.

If they had known from the beginning that this would be the outcome, would they have been so persistent in pushing for Prohibition?
The answer is: yes.

Because this is not just a policy, a social experiment, but also a conspiracy between power and capital!
So even though they knew the outcome, they would continue to push for Prohibition.

However, these things did not have much impact on Lance, as he mainly sold strong liquor.

Strong liquor is the real money-making liquor.

The brewing cost of seventy or eighty yuan can be sold for five or six hundred yuan or even more in the hands of the terminal sales. With the huge shipment volume, even if Lance only has a small part of the retail now and mainly relies on wholesale, he can still make a lot of wealth!

Just like what the factory director who died in the factory duty room said, they are not producing goods at all, they are just printing money!
After solving this problem, Lance turned his attention to the movie "The Raid on Golden Harbor". With massive resources and investment, its shooting plan was much better than Lance had imagined, which made him devote more energy to this matter.

Just as the hero and heroine began to officially appear on the stage and the gears of the plot began to turn, George also arrived at his "battlefield of destiny".

This was an unprecedented experience for George. He was wearing a bulletproof vest and a helmet, and he looked a lot more bloated.

He was carrying a camera and a video camera, as well as a large amount of film.

Sitting in the wobbly infantry vehicle, looking at the spring outside the narrow window, my nostrils were filled with the smell of gunpowder left over from the war.

The sky was clearly clear at this moment, but his mood was gloomy.

He thought he could shoot whatever he wanted here, but he was told that he could only shoot with other members of the press corps.

Conduct limited interviews at designated locations and times.

In addition, all manuscripts and telegrams sent back to the country must be reviewed by the military before they can be sent out.

He thought other reporters would protest and express dissatisfaction, but what he didn't expect was that everyone remained silent.

Under such circumstances, he also remained silent, and this incident made him realize that the real situation on the battlefield was definitely not as good as reported domestically.

The driver of the infantry vehicle did not notice a shell crater due to limited observation. The vehicle first sank suddenly, and then "jumped" up.

George's head hit the top of the infantry vehicle hard, but he was wearing a helmet so it didn't hurt him.

The other reporters seemed to have gotten used to this bad situation. They returned to their seats and continued to remain quiet.

The journey was very dull. We didn't see any wild animals on the Tanfit Road, which was reported to be rich in species. It seemed that these little creatures had migrated to farther places because of the war.

He felt a little chest tightness, which was largely psychological, and he was a little short of breath.

After about forty minutes, some sounds were heard around, human voices.

"We need a doctor here..."

"Who can help me?"

"Nurse?"

"I need a shot!"

These noisy sounds immediately relieved the stuffiness in the infantry vehicle. George, who was tearing his collar, put down his hands. He looked outside through the narrow window and could only see some blurry scenes.

There were wounded people lying everywhere, on the grass and mud, and there were obviously not enough doctors and nurses.

He slowly opened his mouth, looking at so many wounded soldiers. It was difficult for him to use his imagination to imagine the situation on the battlefield.

The infantry vehicles gradually stopped, and the officer in charge of picking them up reiterated the rules of the interview here: no unreviewed letters could be sent, and no unreviewed telegrams could be sent.

You are only allowed to post what they ask you to post, not just anything.

"Okay, get out of the car!"

George jumped out of the infantry vehicle with his backpack. He stood there, looking at the wounded all around him, his brain a little overwhelmed.

But soon, he took out his camera, and there was material everywhere!

He could already imagine himself winning the "Golden Newspaper Award" again and standing on the podium to make a speech!

He took a photo of a doctor cutting off a worker's thigh.

The doctor's white coat was covered in bright red blood. This should be a sacred profession of saving lives and healing the wounded, but at this moment he was like a devil!
He had a stern face, and the expression on his face looked particularly strange and distorted.

He held a soldier's thigh with one hand and held a hacksaw with the other. The muscles on his face trembled and twitched as he pulled the hacksaw back and forth.

The soldier, who had only been given a local anesthetic, cried with red eyes. He half-lying down and watched the doctor sawing off his right leg, but he could do nothing about it!
Two male nurses just held him down, and he kept begging the doctor to stop, he wanted to save his legs...

This picture is so impactful!

He pressed the shutter, moved the film magazine, and pressed the shutter again.

This time he captured the one he wanted. When the doctor pulled the hacksaw towards him, blood splattered all over his body and even his face. He was like a demon!
At this moment, George even thought of the title - "Angels Like Demons"

He turned his head to look elsewhere and saw a soldier lying on the ground, gasping for breath. Next to him was something like a metal tray. There was a hole in his stomach and his intestines were already flowing out.

A nurse was helping him clean the dirt and stains on his intestines. From his hideous and painful expression, it could be felt that the anesthetic really didn't work!

George nearly vomited.

He vomited violently and felt nauseous, but trying to suppress the discomfort, he took a few photos.

He kept repeating "Oh my God" as he walked behind the battlefield, which was like hell on earth. There were soldiers who were seriously injured and everyone seemed to be struggling between life and death. Some had their legs blown off, some had their arms blown off, and some were shot several times.

There was also a guy who was both unlucky and lucky. His lower jaw was completely blown off, but his life seemed to be saved.

The doctor was stitching up his blood vessels and wounds. He looked horribly injured, but surprisingly he survived.

On the contrary, there was a guy who seemed to have been only shot but kept coughing up blood. He died shortly afterwards while preparing for surgery.

The smell here is terrible, the smell of blood, and with the rising temperature, there are flies everywhere.

It is almost foreseeable that many people will die from the infection.

He took photos of some of the terrible conditions, hoping that these reports would bring about some changes here.

"Aren't there any lightly injured soldiers here?" He asked casually while giving a pack of cigarettes to a nurse who was resting.

The male nurse glanced at him and said, "Those with minor injuries are continuing to fight on the front lines. Only those who are unable to fight will be sent here."

George was somewhat shocked and shaken, "Those dead people...where are they?"

The nurse pointed outside the camp. George looked back and saw a lot of wood piled up there.

He noticed it when he came in, but had no idea what it was.

When he walked in, he found that there were layers of corpses under the pile of wood.

A layer of corpses, a layer of wood. He turned around in confusion and looked elsewhere. There were many more piles of firewood like this...

They were stacked together like slaughtered white pigs in a slaughterhouse, standing out against the dark wood.

They also have no dignity as dead, no dignity as soldiers who died on the battlefield.

They have nothing, as the old saying goes.

Coming naked and leaving naked, this made him feel angry!
These people who came to this land far away from the federation and their families to fight for the national interest should be respected!
He shuddered a little.

Because until now, the country has not reported the specific casualties on the front line, and no one has said that so many people would die for victory.

He was very uneasy. All of them had become tools for the federal government's top brass to make profits. These young people, young lives, should not die like this!

They came here with full of enthusiasm, but what greeted them was hell!

"Send some anesthetic quickly, we don't have enough."

A nurse shouted loudly, and George was suddenly bumped and staggered forward a few steps.

If the camera had not been in a bag hanging around his neck, it might have fallen to the ground.

A guy holding a box of medicine turned around and shouted at him, "Don't f*cking stand in the middle of the road!"

George came to his senses after being hit. He didn't say sorry or anything like that. He just watched the nurse inject anesthetic into a soldier's body. His body, which was still struggling, completely relaxed in a very short time.

He had an urge to go to the real front line!
Everything here gave the journalists a huge shock. They did not communicate, but remained calm and faithfully recorded everything that happened here.

He didn't know what made his colleagues shut up, but he felt that he had to do something.

He found the officer who was responsible for sending them here and made this request.

"Go to the front line?" The officer smoked a cigarette, a little confused, "Do you know what the situation is at the front line?"

"Honestly speaking, the moment you step onto the front line, I can't guarantee that you will come back alive. The enemies in front of you and the comrades behind you will all become your enemies."

"You should have seen those things outside. If you die and are lucky enough to be picked up by us, you will also be thrown in there."

"It may be half a year or even two or three years before your family receives the ashes of someone they don't know. Are you sure you want to go?"

The officer looked straight into his eyes, as if trying to read his thoughts. He was not exaggerating. Even for him, he could not guarantee that he could survive on the front line.

The battlefield shows people its cruelest side. There is no romance here, and no love between nurses.

The vast majority of frontline nurses are men, and they are far more likely to punch you than to have sex with you.

War is not romantic either. Bullets will never go around you. As long as you are in its path, it will bite you!

"I'm going!" George gritted his teeth and made his decision.

Originally he didn't really want to do anything in particular, he just wanted to report the real situation on the front line, but now, he wanted to go to the front line to take a look.

Look at how the federal government deceives the people and how they send the young people of the federal government to hell!
The reporters around looked at George with various expressions. They basically knew George, the winner of the Golden Newspaper Award.

Every winner of the Golden Newspaper Award will be very famous in the industry, because every journalist will take out the report that won them the award to see what they wrote to win the favor of the judges.

So they basically all knew George, but there wasn't much respect in their eyes, especially from those reporters who had been here for a while.

They were also passionate, but were eventually wiped out.

"I want to go too!" A young reporter suddenly pushed the crowd away and walked to George. George glanced at him and he smiled at George.

Then, he said to the officer, "I want to go to the front line, too."

The officer looked at the two for a while, then he took the cigarette out of his mouth and threw it hard on the ground, "I'll go report it."

He stood up, straightened his clothes, and strode towards the mobile command center at the back.

"I know you!" The young reporter pulled George's attention away from the officer. He turned his head and looked at him. The young reporter continued, "I've read most of your reports. They're very well written."

"It gives people a very inspiring feeling, but there are also some reports...", he pursed his lips and smiled.

His smile made George somewhat embarrassed, because he knew that the "some reports" the young man was talking about were those that made him money.

Mainly news customized by Lance and some capitalists in Jingang City.

They pay the money, he pays for the news, so the reports seem to be quite different from his actual level.

"Nice to meet you, George!" George took the initiative to extend his hand and shook hands with the young man.

The young man gave his name, a very ordinary name, Ian.

"Why did you want to go to the front line?" Ian was curious.

George did not hide his thoughts, "I feel that we have been deceived by the federal government. They always report news that is beneficial to inciting public sentiment."

"They never mentioned how many casualties we had suffered, or how much money we had spent on this war."

"I thought it might be a little bit bad, but I didn't realize it was much worse than I thought until I saw what happened here!"

His expression was serious and earnest, "People have the right to know the truth!"

Young Ian nodded in agreement, "Yes, people have that right!"

While they were talking, the officer came back from a distance and the two men stopped talking temporarily.

"The command center has agreed to your request, but you need to sign an agreement, a danger notification agreement."

"We told you that the battlefield is dangerous, but you insisted on going. If anything unexpected happens on the battlefield, it has nothing to do with us. You will bear all the responsibility."

The more certain he was that the federal government was committing fraud, the less likely George was to back down, as he viewed these as obstacles to the truth.

He took the document and signed his name casually, and so did Ian beside him.

(End of this chapter)