War Photographer's Notebook

Chapter 1946 From Now On, You're a Guerrilla Fighter

"how did you do it?"

When the "magic show" ended and the little light was turned back on, Thomas couldn't wait to ask.

"Magic loses its charm if you explain it."

Wei Ran clapped his hands and said, "Alright, children, ladies and gentlemen, or comrades, now it's your turn to cooperate with me to complete the next part of the performance."

"Mr. Magician, how do you need us to cooperate?"

A girl with a large pregnant belly asked happily.

"I can only conjure up these foods of unknown origin for a short time."

Wei Ran said in a serious tone, "Once the time is up, these foods will disappear. You need to eat them before they disappear, otherwise my transformation will have been in vain."

"Really?" the little boy who had been cooperating with the performance exclaimed.

He was the person closest to Wei Ran throughout the entire process, and also the person who believed his every word most wholeheartedly at this moment.

"of course it's true"

As Wei Ran spoke, he rolled up his sleeves and glanced at the digital watch on his wrist. "You don't have much time left. There's less than half an hour left."

"In that case, we'd better step up our efforts."

Mrs. Ivana chimed in enthusiastically, "Mr. Victor must have taken a great risk to conjure up so much food; we must eat it quickly."

"I've been holding back for a long time."

A little boy who was blind in both eyes said happily, "I thought we were going to save this food for when we were starving."

"Let's eat"

Wei Ran urged him on, then bent down and picked up his backpack. "Let's find a room to talk."

"Come with me"

Mrs. Ivana walked into one of the rooms as she spoke, but also stuffed the three sesame cakes that had been given to her into her bosom.

Besides a few adults, some older children did the same. The war had gone on for too long, and their innocence had long been shattered by the bullets fired by snipers.

"You should fill your stomachs too."

As Wei Ran spoke, he took out a small retro suitcase containing a coffee brewing pot under the cover of his backpack.

He had just calmed the children with a magic trick; now it was time to calm the suffering adults with another.

"Why did you bring so much?"

Thomas was astonished as he watched Wei Ran begin brewing coffee, but in the end he could only sigh, "Thank you, I finally realize I'm still alive."

"Fill my stomach, and then have a cup of coffee."

As Wei Ran lit the alcohol stove for heating, he said, "I'm going to head back now."

"It's not safe during the day," Thomas and the others reminded him almost instinctively.

I will try to run as fast as I can.

Wei Ran smiled and said, "I haven't explored Sarajevo during the day yet, so I'll take a look around and take some photos."

Furthermore, I will try my best to persuade both of them.

At this point, Wei Ran looked at Thomas and asked, "Can we see that building from here?"

“You can barely see it from the top floor,” Thomas replied immediately.

"Send someone to keep an eye on it."

Wei Ran said, "If I can convince them, I will hang a bed sheet outside the top-floor window, a bed sheet on fire."

"it is good"

Thomas immediately agreed, "I'll keep an eye on it myself."

"If you see burning white sheets, you don't need to respond."

Wei Ran continued, "We will arrive there before midnight after dark, and we will prepare supplies in advance."

Be careful on your way back.

Thomas cautioned, "There are snipers watching us all the way."

"Try the coffee I brought."

Wei Ran changed the subject at the right time and made everyone a small cup of coffee.

"I can't remember the last time I had coffee."

Holding the eggshell cup, Ivana remarked, "I can't even remember the last time I used such an exquisite cup."

"It hasn't happened since the start of the war."

Mikhail, who was also invited, said, "Is this the new life those bastards with shit-filled brains want? I hope they don't regret it."

They don't care about these things.

Ms. Aiting snorted and said sarcastically, holding her pretty coffee cup, "They probably don't even know there are so many children suffering here."

They definitely don't know.

Vladan, as if he had seen through it all, said, "Even if we invite them over, they'll pretend they're blind and can't see anything."

"Are you talking about the Serbs, Croats, or Muslims?" the young Sofia asked a silly question.

"There is no difference between Serbs, Croats, and Muslims."

Mikhail said, "If it weren't for the fact that this war could be fought smoothly, who would care which God you believe in, or what posture you use to pray to your God?"

When I was your age, there were only two kinds of people on this land.

“Spell-absorbing silk, and anti-spell-absorbing silk warriors,” Thomas said almost subconsciously.

"Now we can't even tell which ones are 'fabricated silk' anymore."

Mikhail cursed angrily, then stood up, leaning on his PPSh, downed his bitter coffee in one gulp, put down the cup, and walked out, saying, "Your Italian coffee is too bitter, young man. When the war is over, when you come to Sarajevo again, I'll treat you to my coffee, with lots of sugar and milk."

“I look forward to that day, comrade,” Wei Ran formally responded.

"Comrade. Ha. Maybe one day this word will disappear."

Mikhail, pessimistic yet realistic, muttered to himself as he left the small room and returned to his position.

"It's time for me to leave too."

As Wei Ran spoke, he put down the eggshell cup, "You guys continue drinking."

"Actually, you can wait until it gets dark."

Let's prepare early.

Before Thomas could finish speaking, Wei Ran got up and left the room. Before the children, who were still working hard to complete the second half of his magic trick, could react, he quickly went downstairs and passed through the Gate of Life guarded by Mikhail.

“You’re a lot like those young men I fought alongside when I was young,” Mikhail said suddenly before closing the door. “I mean, those young men who fought against the Fassil.”

"Really?"

Wei Ran couldn't help but turn around and glance at the old soldier with medals hanging on his chest and a PPSh-41 in his hand.

"yes"

Mikhail smiled broadly. "Simple, foolish, humorous, and afraid of hunger. But also has his own ideals, beliefs, perseverance, and generosity towards food."

"I"

"Take it"

Mikhail ripped the medal off his chest and tossed it to Wei Ran. "Although Sarajevo may no longer belong to Yugoslavia, Sarajevo owes you a medal." "I was just a mercenary this time," Wei Ran accidentally let slip.

"From now on, you're a guerrilla fighter."

Mikhail saluted Wei Ran, "You've been a guerrilla fighter ever since you started doing magic tricks."

"Thank you"

Wei Ran caught the unexpected medal somewhat flusteredly, then hurriedly raised his hand to return the greeting, until the iron gate closed and locked.

Taking a deep breath, Wei Ran put the medal in his pocket and disappeared into the narrow alley.

This was his first time "touring" Sarajevo during the day, and also the first time he had seen Sarajevo simultaneously in the midst of war and under the sun, as well as its citizens.

Even those citizens struggling to make a living still try their best to dress decently and to wear smiles on their faces.

Wei Ran had no way of knowing what kind of people those citizens who habitually walked close to the wall and habitually waited cautiously before quickly crossing the intersection were at night.

He didn't know if those men in suits went to the black market at night with guns, nor did he know if those women in pretty dresses lifted their skirts at night to exchange their bodies for food.

Those unbearable things were in the darkness of night, untouched by sunlight. But now, under the sun and gunfire, he could not tell what had happened that night, nor could he tell which ethnic group the citizens were warm and friendly.

They would greet strangers, say to acquaintances, "It's so good to see you're still alive," remind people crossing the intersection to scatter, and even pick up signs that had been blown over by the wind that read "Beware of Snipers."

"boom!"

Just as he was running with the crowd across an intersection, a gunshot rang out in the distance, and a man who was trying to catch pigeons was shot in the thigh and fell to the ground.

Amid his agonizing screams, a woman rushed over, running past the man's frantic attempts to stop her, and together they were shot and lay in a pool of blood.

"Don't do anything stupid!"

An elderly man with gray hair shouted, "It's bait! They're trying to lure us over! You two! Get over here quickly! Guns! Does anyone have guns? Cover them!"

"I have!"

In the crowd, a man with a thick beard lifted his trench coat as he spoke, picked up the Yugoslavian-made M85 submachine gun that had been hidden under the coat, unfolded the stock, and began firing single shots under cover of the corner of the wall.

"boom!"

Another gunshot rang out in the distance, and a bullet struck the corner where the man was hiding.

At the same time, the man who had been shot was also desperately dragging the woman who had also been shot behind the cover, clutching the corpses of two pigeons in his hand.

"Ta-ta-ta! Ta-ta-ta! Ta-ta-ta!"

Just then, Wei Ran took out his Type 81 rifle and began firing short bursts at the building from which the gunfire was coming from, successfully drawing attention to himself.

"Hurry and grab the rope!"

The old man who had just reminded everyone had already swung a dirty rope at the couple as he spoke.

"Take her back first!"

As the man spoke, he tied the rope to the woman's hands and then stuffed the two dead pigeons into her handbag.

"Let's pull together!"

Before the old man finished speaking, more passersby ran over, grabbed the other end of the rope, and began to pull. At the same time, Wei Ran also extended his Type 81 pistol, aimed it in the approximate direction, and pulled the trigger.

"boom!"

Just then, a gunshot rang out, and a cloud of blood burst from the chest of the woman who had just been dragged along.

"boom!"

Immediately following the second gunshot, the man who had been shot in the thigh was then shot in the back.

At this moment, Wei Ran, who had already taken cover in the building, paused for a moment, then shook his head helplessly. Under the cover of his backpack, he put away his Type 81 rifle, took out his camera, and pressed the shutter button on the two people who had been killed, the people who were holding the rope, and the passers-by who were still holding submachine guns. Then he walked back in the direction he had come from.

As mentioned at the beginning, he didn't even know who the real slut was in this inexplicable war.

The sniping was a random killing; no one checked which ethnic group the obviously married couple belonged to, and they didn't have any weapons on them.

The identities of those who shot them and those who tried to save them have not been verified.

This is just a murder game disguised as a fight against popular hatred, but the stakes are too high.
Along the way, Wei Ran saw citizens busy cutting down trees or digging up tree roots to keep warm, and he also saw many more citizens trying to catch pigeons.

I saw citizens queuing up to get water from some unknown pipe, and I also saw citizens who had lost their lives, rotting and stinking, but could not be buried at all—they lay in the area that was the focus of snipers.

Finally, after wandering around for a while, he returned to the vicinity of the building where Dragan and the others were stationed, and found an opportunity to sneak over and knock on the wooden door.

"Are you crazy? Why did you come back during the day?"

Klaus was startled when he saw him. "Where are Thomas and those two idiot girls? Were they shot dead by a sniper?"

"It's a pity that they are all still alive."

As Wei Ran spoke, he took out all the commission that Thomas had given him and placed it on the table, saying, "This is the final payment of the commission."

"How can there be so much?" Dragan asked, somewhat naively. "How many idiots do we need to save to earn this much money?"

"A significant portion of this money was used to purchase supplies here."

Wei Ran paused for a moment, then described everything that had happened at the school.

"What if we let them come here?" Klaus said instinctively.

"It's not necessarily safer here than where they are."

Dragan frowned and said, "And if it's convenient for those kids to come here, it's even more convenient for them to go to the tunnel."

More importantly, someone in Deyang will soon be taking over here, and we'll have to fake our deaths in the building next door.

"So you agree to the deal?" Wei Ran pressed.

"There's no room for hesitation; these things won't be worth this much money once they leave Sarajevo."

Dragan deliberately defined the next move as a transaction, "Let's send them a new signal."

"After we fake our deaths, are we going to leave this place?" Klaus asked abruptly.

“If Thomas can come up with more commission, I wouldn’t mind staying,” Dragan said.

"We're about to be used as cannon fodder."

Klaus said with the same deliberate helplessness, "Since we have to leave, let them take more things with them tonight. We happen to have quite a few prisoners, so let them help carry them too."

“That’s a good idea,” Dragan quickly agreed.

So, that medal was actually awarded to both of you?
Wei Ran inexplicably thought of a trivial question.

"Stop spacing out, go and signal them."

Dragan urged, "We need to pack up quickly and see what we can bring over."

"I'll go send the signal right away."

As Wei Ran spoke, he quickly ran upstairs. Behind him, Dragan and Klaus each subconsciously breathed a sigh of relief, then looked at each other with mocking expressions.

"You naive fool," Klaus said mercilessly.

“You’re a dreamy idiot too,” Dragan said with a smile. “Looks like we really need to play Walter for once.”

"Whatever"

As Klaus walked upstairs, he muttered, "I already regret coming to this godforsaken place."

I regret it too.

Dragan said, "Those magic-absorbing wires are beyond my range. We shouldn't be here."

"Hopefully we'll still have a chance to leave here alive."

Klaus murmured a worried expression that only he could hear.

"I hope those children will have a chance to leave here alive," Dragan muttered in a voice only he could hear.