The beautiful daily life of Black Light Salted Fish

Bang!

The rusty iron door was pushed open by a shoulder, and two figures rushed over with a roar, but were pushed away by Watson with a slap. The PKM machine gun began to spit fire, tearing every living thing in the bunker into pieces. This was the fourth bunker he had cleared. After the gang members helped clear the perimeter, they all stood guard with guns on the spot. These old bunkers are easy to defend and difficult to attack, and cleaning them will easily cause losses. This group of people does not have the sacrificial spirit to be a vanguard. In the past, it was basically the old guys who drove the rookies in to die.

Now with ‘Deathstroke’, everything is easy.

The gang members really knew what simplicity meant. The strong man in armor just stood there, not even trying to dodge, and the bullets bounced away immediately after hitting him. Then he rushed in with a machine gun and clicked it a few times, and everything was quiet.

For Watson, he also took the opportunity to recruit some people. Knowledge about Albanian flooded into my brain. According to past experience, I could understand some basic daily words in less than two days. Of course, Watson doesn't intend to expose this. Now the entire gang thinks that he only understands English. This is good, and maybe they can encounter dramas in the future where they can plot loudly in person.

"what!!!!"

After clearing the last bunker, Watson walked out and checked the weapons when he suddenly heard a scream. He stepped on the fallen door and walked out, seeing a group of gang members surrounding the open space to deal with the prisoners. Several people's machetes were dripping with blood, and they quickly reached into the crowd again. Aji drove the red pickup truck to a stop in the open space. After turning off the engine, he raised the hood and began to inspect the components.

Albania is a long and narrow country, with a straight line distance from north to south of about 200 miles (about 322 kilometers); and a straight line distance from east to west is even less than 80 miles (about 130 kilometers). However, there are many mountains and the roads are crooked. Sometimes it takes three or four hours to cover just a few mountains. After several days of running, some old and poor-quality vehicles have begun to smoke.

"Aha! Federalist!"

Marcel came over with a smile and a cigarette in his mouth, holding a strange-looking long knife in his left hand: "I saw you from the back sweeping away all the bunkers. Well done! Well done! I sent you the Is the driver good? His driving skills rank among the top 20 in our area!"

"Well, it's fine."

Watson echoed that he was actually paying attention to the people chatting next to him, trying to understand the meaning of their mouths. At this moment, a cry came from the crowd again, and several gang members even raised their guns and shot into the air. Among the dozens of hands shaking high, from the corner of the eye, a bloody severed arm could be seen clearly.

"Oh yeah, come with me!"

The severed arm was also seen by the one-eyed dragon. He raised his brows and waved Watson towards the prisoner.

...a classic plot.

With almost no hesitation, Watson took steps, knowing roughly what would happen next. Sure enough, after squeezing through two layers of people, Marcel grabbed a prisoner and handed the hilt of the knife to Watson: "Kill him."

His tone sounded like he was inviting someone to smoke.

The surrounding gang members stopped making noise, and one or two of them all raised their eyes and looked over. Watson didn't move his head, using the cover of his helmet to observe his surroundings. Those eyes were full of testing and provocation, with a little ridicule. The prisoner who was pulled in front of him was a young man. One of his eyes had been gouged out, his left cheek flesh was cut open by a knife blade, and his entire face was distorted by severe pain. Perhaps for relief, he kept gasping in his throat, and blood mixed with saliva spattered out.

He was desperate.

Watson understood the other person's eyes. The prisoner understood the outcome he was about to face, which was to die here. The only difference is that after being tortured and humiliated, someone makes up for the last moment; or being bruised and abandoned in the wilderness to die; or, getting a happy relief and never waking up again.

If this were a movie or a comic, the protagonist would have violently fought back at this time, killed all the bandits, and then saved these poor people with a golden light behind his back, right? Let’s do some drama about the discovery of conscience, describe the psychological struggle, and then create a result of self-repentance and self-redemption. Maybe the audience will like it very much...

Are they considered pitiful people?

No, it's just success and failure, and...I made it happen.

Looking at that eye, Watson felt a little emotional. Fortunately, he had a helmet as a cover. It is true that not everyone can be an undercover agent. If an actor doesn't perform well in a scene, he can retake it. If the undercover agent reveals his secret somewhere, his life may be lost.

After just a few seconds, Iron Palm pushed back the handle of the knife in Marcel's hand.

The one-eyed dragon was a little surprised at first, but when he saw the strong man in armor pulling out the Gurkha scimitar that was a little too long, he immediately showed a look of understanding. Watson didn't give the group any more time to watch. He raised the knife and hit the head on the dirt. The kneeling body of the prisoner shook a few times and lay limply on its side, motionless.

"Oooo!!!!!"

Not knowing who started it, the gang members in the surrounding circle began to cheer. Watson ignored them and squatted down to wipe the blade of the knife with the trousers of the corpse. Marcel stood nearby and stared, a cloud of smoke escaping from his mouth, covering his gaze. But the man soon started laughing too, put his hands on his knees, and said to Watson:

"Welcome to the Illyrians!"

Welcome NMB, I will spread your ashes later...

Watson didn't feel that the other party's words were credible at all, but this test was passed. He stood up and walked straight to the red pickup truck in the distance. The commotion behind them continued, getting louder and louder.

......

In the evening, the convoy officially entered the city of Berat.

This scene was really like bandits entering the village. The citizens looked at the smoke and dust rising in the distance, and all of them hid in their houses one by one. Gang crime is now prevalent across the country. If you don't recognize what gang members look like, that's a very scary thing. Of course, in order to avoid attracting more attention, Marcel ordered his men to pack up and hide all weapons, and the heavy machine gun previously installed on the stand was also temporarily removed.

Now there is only a trace of the sun left, and ancient European-style houses, churches, monasteries and mosques are piled up in a pile, like stairs, stacked one after another along the height of the hillside, and there are also several small hill forts dotted among them. The scenery here is indeed unique, with the wide river passing directly through the city, appropriately dividing the building complex.

The city of a thousand windows.

Under the dim night, rows of neat windows light up in front of you, like thousands of sky lanterns about to rise, and there is a sense of tranquility and beauty that penetrates into your heart. Watson remembered the picture he had seen on the Windows standby screen in his previous life, and it fit perfectly with this scene. His thoughts suddenly dispersed, even though he was still covered with a waterproof sheet.

After picking up a few people on the roadside, the convoy finally stopped in a residential building near the river. This seems to be a stronghold arranged in advance. Across the path is a three-story church.

The Country of Eagles has a long history. In the past thousands of years, it belonged to civilizations such as the Roman Empire and the Byzantine Empire. It has also been influenced by the culture of neighboring countries and regions such as the Austro-Hungarian Empire for a long time. Apart from this, it also faced many invaders, such as the Ottoman Turks. Therefore, this land now has Christian, Yisilan (sorry only pinyin), Jewish and other styles (such as ancient Rome) buildings. Some churches and mosques are even only one or two streets apart.

Watson really wanted to go out for a walk, after all, he had encountered all the bad things these days.

It's a pity that Marcel didn't give him this chance.

"Come on! Deathstroke!"

After getting a perfect small victory and successfully arriving at the transfer station, One-Eyed Dragon was obviously in a good mood: "There will be a great enjoyment later! Hahahaha! This is rare, you have to be prepared."

Don't...

After dinner, Watson rolled his eyes as he watched a dozen women being pushed into the hall.

I knew it.

The gang members immediately started howling, and Watson was a little surprised by their high energy. After all, the gang had been yelling since this morning. But at this moment, he could only stand up. He didn't eat the dinner at all. He squatted in the corner to refill the empty bullet belt, which disappointed many people who wanted to take the opportunity to get a glimpse of his appearance.

Marcel was probably the most disappointed.

Fortunately, everyone knows that ‘Deathstroke’ is a superman, so it is understandable that he has long-lasting physical strength. Not wanting to hang out with this group of people anymore, Watson squeezed into the front row with the ammunition box, grabbed a woman's arm and walked out.

"Oooo!!!!"

Someone behind him screamed and applauded. This scene was surprisingly similar to the previous execution of prisoners. Watson directly lifted the trembling woman up, strode up the stairs, found his room, and threw her onto the bed.

The woman screamed.

This is a young girl with long wavy chestnut hair and obvious Mediterranean features. Especially the nose, the lines are very strong. This look can't be said to be ugly, it can only be said that it goes with this expression, which makes it a little bit funny.

Bang!

The metal shell ammunition box hit the ground, making her scream again in fright.

Watson went up and knocked the person unconscious with a light punch.

It was finally quiet.

He sat back on the arms box and continued to maintain his weapons. Not long after, chaotic footsteps and voices sounded in the corridor outside the door. Watson tilted his ears and heard the sounds split into several streams and spread out. It was unexpectedly quiet for a while, and then gradually evolved into rhythmic movements.

Click!

Another machine gun bullet was stuffed into the ammunition chain, and the 250-round ammunition chain was refilled. Watson worked silently, inspecting and maintaining the two machine guns, and then polished his Gurkha scimitar. The sharp sound of the whetstone on the metal surface spread out the door and fell clearly into someone's ears.

Gah!

The door was suddenly pushed open.

Marcel's vision went dark, and the huge figure of Deathstroke stood at the door. The prostitute had her head lowered, her clothes were messy, her exposed skin was full of red marks, and she had completely lost consciousness.

"This woman... is boring."

Watson threw the woman into the other person's arms and closed the door again.