Please pull the trigger for this world one more time.

Falling.

The tangled lines tugged at my slowly sinking thoughts, and fragmented, chaotic images flickered incessantly—

I have loved and hated in my life, and I have also experienced honor, struggle, and sacrifice.

There are no regrets.

The consciousness master's thoughts became increasingly chaotic, and the speed at which his thoughts sank into darkness increased. Everything began to become entangled and unclear in a revolving lantern-like transformation.

Suddenly, a gentle yet powerful force pulled him up.

? !

Before the owner of consciousness could react, they suddenly felt an unusually strong suction force, and the surrounding scenery began to change rapidly—

He saw a shower of fire.

He saw the tattered flag.

He saw the menacing bayonet.

He saw the theater burning.

He saw it; it was a dead man.

Just then, an extremely unwilling, inhuman roar resounded in his ears.

The person in charge of consciousness instantly regained consciousness!

"stand up!!!"

"fighting!!!"

……

boom! ! !

Cold blade, hot flow.

The bayonet pierced the enemy's chest armor, and then the trigger was pulled. A bullet, carrying a surge of heat, caused the enemy's body to bloom with warm red petals.

Under the cover of night, a soldier dressed in black kicked aside the other man and slowly reached for his ammunition pouch.

Suddenly! A dark shadow flashed by.

? !

Clang!

A clanging sound of metal striking metal rang out, and the soldier's helmet slowly split in two.

The sky was filled with the sound of artillery fire, which obscured the starlight and reflected in the soldiers' eyes, which were gradually losing their luster.

A sword beam surging with immense energy cleaved through the tightly closed wooden door.

The invaders' iron boots stepped into what appeared to be an ordinary courtyard.

……

"Well……"

As consciousness slowly returned, all that met my eyes was shattered pieces.

A boy who looked no more than 8 years old slowly opened his eyes and instinctively put his hands on the ground to support himself.

"what!"

A sharp pain suddenly shot through my left palm.

Looking at the shards of glass stuck in his hand, a strange light flashed in the boy's eyes, but then his gaze suddenly became confused and bewildered.

He stared at his still-bleeding little hand, then touched his throat, momentarily stunned.

"Where is this?"

"What exactly is going on?"

"What...what's my name?"

Fragmented and chaotic memories collided disorderly in the boy's mind. On one hand, he remembered his parents being kidnapped by a group of people, and on the other hand, he remembered that he seemed to not belong here.

He remembered both the war that had ravaged his small border town and the fact that he felt he should be living in a peaceful and stable place.

He remembered both that he was the son of two pharmacists and that he had once been a member of a glorious collective.

That deep olive green left an extremely profound mark on his memory.

The boy clutched his head in pain with both hands, his forehead smeared with blood from his left palm. Two memories intertwined and merged, yet remained distinct.

Ultimately, the latter became the dominant force, and the situation stabilized temporarily; that was the consciousness of a time traveler.

The boy shook his head violently, temporarily setting aside the task of sorting out his thoughts—the stinging pain in his left palm was growing stronger and stronger, eroding his nerves.

So he looked at his palm.

"what……"

The boy sat on the ground, cried out in pain, and forcefully pulled out several pieces of broken glass that were stuck in his palm—fortunately, these pieces of glass were not very large, and the wound area was limited, so they would not cause a lot of bleeding in a short time.

The boy struggled to his feet, but as soon as he stood up, he felt dizzy and almost sat back down.

The boy instinctively looked down and saw the bloodstains on his shirt.

"what?"

The boy felt a chill and quickly checked himself. Fortunately, he didn't have any wounds.

But there was a conspicuous tear in the clothes.

At this moment, the sound of cannons outside had subsided considerably, but the boy could sense that an increasingly unsettling atmosphere was spreading.

Like the calm before the storm.

"I need to find medicine and bandage it quickly!" the boy thought to himself.

Using the fragmented memories of the other half of his mind, he arrived at the medicine shelf nailed to the wall.

The room was dark, and the kerosene lamp on the table had long been broken. The boy suppressed the waves of dizziness in his head and found a stool.

Standing on the stool, with the help of the intermittent firelight outside, the boy could make out the words on the medicine shelf.

His pupils contracted for a split second.

Because in the boy's mind, two completely unrelated memories unexpectedly overlapped for the first time—in the form of words.

"Where exactly is this place?"

Why are the characters exactly the same?

"What exactly am I...?"

A barrage of questions assaulted the boy's still-unstable mind, causing him to sway and nearly fall off the bench.

The boy instinctively reached out with his left hand, which aggravated the wound on his arm.

"what……"

The boy cried out in pain, but the stinging sensation in his palm successfully pulled him back to reality.

This also helped him regain his senses.

Forgetting his surprise any longer, the boy's gaze began to wander across the shelf, and soon he saw a wooden jar—a wound-healing powder.

"Got it!"

The boy was overjoyed. He hugged the glass jar to his chest, jumped off the stool, staggered a few steps, and successfully regained his footing.

They then successfully found rolls of gauze in the drawer of the cabinet.

Looking at the powder and gauze in front of him, a series of bandaging techniques immediately flashed through his mind, as if he already knew them by heart.

However, before the boy could even open the lid, a series of hurried footsteps could be heard outside.

The boy was startled and tried to find a place to hide, but just then, footsteps entered the courtyard—it was a group of soldiers in black military robes.

The boy saw the uniform the newcomer was wearing: a silver dragon emblem in the center of the conical helmet, with the words "Guangwu" written below it.

The boy felt a sense of relief, because the other half of his memory told him that this was one of his own.

……

Outside the courtyard, a pair of black combat boots stepped over the door panel that had been split in half and slowly entered the bluestone brick floor inside the courtyard.

"Sergeant Major, what's going on at the pharmacist's house...?"

The leading sergeant held out a hand to stop his subordinate from speaking.

"Battle formation, alert!"

"Yes."

The sergeant major strode forward slowly, and as he looked at the scene before him, his heart sank. He called out loudly as he walked in, "Damn... Pharmacist? Pharmacist Mo! Mo..."

The soldier stopped shouting because he saw the boy, whose chest was covered in blood, staring blankly at him.

"Lift the alert!"

The sergeant waved his hand, then rushed over to the boy and knelt down.

"My child, are you alright?"

The soldier was very strong, and the boy was unable to resist. He was lifted up by his armpits and his pants were pulled down.

The most striking feature is the cool, tingling feeling of the wind blowing through my balls...

The boy instinctively tried to block it, but the sergeant pushed it aside.

"You little rascal! Get out of my way!"

The sergeant ignored the boy's embarrassment and quickly checked the boy's body without saying a word. After finding that there were no injuries except for his hands, he breathed a sigh of relief.

"Bouncy Bean, where's your dad? Where's your mom?" the soldier asked as he pulled up his pants.

The boy shook his head blankly.

Seeing the boy shake his head, the soldier didn't press further, but simply sighed.

"Medic! Bandage this child's hand!"

"yes!"

A soldier with a white cloth band on his arm walked up to him, and the boy saw the pattern on the band—a symbol of two snakes entwined around a staff.

The medic quickly squatted down in front of the boy, checked that there was no broken glass left, and then poured high-purity distilled liquor into the boy's palm.

"Ugh..."

The boy couldn't help but cry out in pain.

"Bear with it, kid," the medic comforted him. "It'll be over soon. Your injury isn't serious, but you can't afford to get it infected."

While the medics were bandaging the boy, the lead soldier and his men had already searched the entire place—

They found no one except the boy, but there were obvious signs of a struggle inside the house, and all the windows in the front hall were completely shattered.

The leading soldier shook his head helplessly, took out a receipt made of a material similar to textiles from his pocket, stuffed it into the boy's clothes, and then shouted orders to the others.

"Requisition available medical supplies here and set up a temporary medical station! Quickly!"

"yes!"

As everyone inside responded in agreement, they began to work in an orderly fashion.

Even the wooden table in the room was temporarily pieced together to make a bed, and all the medical supplies were taken out and then sorted and reassembled.

The soldiers put several more military lanterns back up inside the house, and the bright yellow light finally dispelled the darkness.

Immediately afterwards, two more people carried a huge weapon into the courtyard.

"Sergeant Major! Heavy machine gun team reporting for duty, please provide instructions!"

The sergeant's face lit up with joy. He scanned the area with his eyes, then pointed to the roof and said, "Get on the roof! Deploy quickly!"

"yes!"

The boy leaned against the window, watching as several people hurriedly lifted the weapon—which was both similar to and different from the one in his memories of the transmigrator—onto the roof, and he was slightly stunned.

By this time, many stretchers had been carried into the house, each carrying a bloodied and mangled soldier.

Some of them were groaning unconsciously, while others had even lost the strength to groan, leaving only their chests rising and falling slightly.

"Hey! Kid! What are you looking at?"

The sudden sound behind him startled the boy. He turned around and saw that it was the leading sergeant.

"I was totally terrified..."

Seeing the boy's stunned expression, the sergeant sighed slightly, muttered something under his breath, and then lifted the boy by the arm, carrying him to the cellar inside the house.

"Let me tell you, you can..."

Just then, a howl suddenly descended!

"Get down! Get down!"

The sergeant's expression changed, and he lay down to shield the boy beneath him.

A heart-wrenching roar rang out.

"Fire!!"