Tian Kezhi is smiling, not because he is happy!

After Tian Kezhi left, his hearty laughter still echoed in the conference room.

Mr. Yan's face was extremely ugly. Decades had passed and no one had ever humiliated him like this in front of him.

The dignified commander-in-chief of the Second Military Region was disgraced in front of his subordinates, and was even noticed by his former secretary who ran away from him.

"Everyone get out of here!"

Mr. Yan smashed the water cup on the table. After a heavy impact, the cup turned into pieces.

The officers of the Jinsui Army had long wanted to stay away from Mr. Yan, so they fled the conference room with their tails between their legs.

Inside the garrison, the soldiers of the Jinsui Army were still searching, and the entire city had long lost its enthusiasm for the Jinsui soldiers.

Anger, indifference, and numbness filled every corner.

It seems that every soldier's task is not to find the reporter's whereabouts, but to find valuable things.

However, no one dared to report this matter in any newspaper office in Mr. Yan’s residence.

However, there were only a few lines in the newspaper mentioning the missing reporters. On a certain day of a certain month of a certain year, seven reporters disappeared on their way out.

In a small village where the Jinsui Army was stationed, seven reporters were locked in a cellar.

The valuable things they had on them had already been divided up by several Jinsui Army soldiers. Under the oppression of fear, they lost the concept of time.

"I'm so hungry. It must be noon, right?"

It was night when they came in and they couldn't tell the time. They could only tell the time by how hungry they were in their stomachs.

The seven reporters who were tired, sleepy and hungry even felt like they were in paradise at the station of the First Military Division.

"You have heard, they handed us over to the Japanese." A reporter expressed his concerns.

These seven reporters heard the conversation in the room last night, and they were convinced that the words "Imperial Army" were true.

Someone wants to exchange their lives for money. Will they still have a way to survive if they fall into the hands of the devil?

When one reporter mentioned the Japanese, the other six reporters did not appreciate his reminder. Instead, they felt disgusted and anxious.

They knew that the words "Imperial Army" were stuck in their hearts, but they didn't want to mention it because he was deceiving themselves and deceiving themselves into believing that what they heard with their own ears was false.

When someone again raises a problem that they don't want to think about, they start to get angry because they have no ability to change and can only be angry.

"If you don't speak, no one will think you are mute!"

They hate people who ask questions!

When the seven reporters were selected by the officers of the Central Army, they thought they were the sons of destiny. Even when they arrived at General Yan's defense area, they thought they could scold Fang Qiu.

But now, these seven reporters have no energy to recall what they have experienced. At this time, they are sleepy, tired and hungry.

A strong beam of sunlight passed through the entrance of the cellar, bringing a ray of light to the dark cellar.

The sound of heavy footsteps came, and a poor accent asked: "Have you been to the headquarters of Zhao Zhiguo's headquarters?"

"We are hungry and we want to eat." A reporter mustered up his courage.

In China, people can still eat a full meal before being executed. The reporter thought that they were about to die.

"Whoever can answer my questions will have food to eat and can leave here."

The person who spoke was indeed Japanese, but he was not a kid with military status, but a member of a Japanese military trading company.

The personnel of the Japanese military trading company would use their identities as businessmen, with the help of Ergouzi, to enter the defense areas of the Chinese army, investigate and gather intelligence, buy and bribe officers of the Chinese army, etc.

A considerable number of them were trained as agents. On the surface they were businessmen, but secretly they were agents trained by the Japanese army.

The seven reporters were already like frightened rabbits hiding in a cave. When they saw a way to survive, they rushed out of the cave.

"Yes, we went to Zhao Zhiguo's headquarters ten days ago."

A reporter was afraid that his companions would steal his life, so he scrambled to get out of the hole.

"Okay, great, you'll get something to eat."

The little devil clapped his hands, and the man behind him—no one knew which country he was from—thrown out a nest.

He threw out the litter as casually as if he were feeding it to a stray dog ​​in the countryside.

The steamed bun rolled in front of the reporter. The other six reporters looked at the steamed bun with disdain.

They have read books and would rather starve to death than eat food from beggars, let alone food from little devils.

"What do you mean?" asked the reporter who answered the kid's question.

He thought that after answering the little devil's question, the little devil would serve him well, not to mention setting up a full banquet, but it should also be four cold, four hot and eight dishes.

Could it be that he gave up his backbone and all he got was a piece of corn?

The little devil ignored the reporter's question, just sneered, turned around and left the cellar.

Darkness returned to the cellar again, and the reporter complained, as if trying to arouse the sympathy of his companions: "What does this mean?"

The other six reporters just looked at him coldly. Although in the dark, it was not clear whether it was a cold look or a look of jealousy and envy, the reporter who answered the Japanese soldier's question knew that he must be despised by his companions.

"I want to go back alive. I still have my old mother at home. You know this."

His voice was a little excited, as if he wanted to ask for forgiveness from their companions, but when it comes to their own lives, people are selfish.

Although the other six people looked down on him, if the opportunity fell on him, they might be more flattering than the reporter who took the lead.

Although they were very hungry, no one touched the muddy bun.

This kind of food is for dogs, and they still think that they are humans, and they are superior to humans!

In the yard, the little devil expressed his satisfaction to the Jinsui Army officer. He said happily: "I can guarantee that you will get the reward you want."

Seven reporters have been to the headquarters of Zhao Zhiguo, and there must be information that the Japanese army urgently needs.

"It's best this way!" said the Jinsui Army officer, "from now on you can't go near them again until I see Qian."

"Don't worry, we will have more opportunities to cooperate in the future." Xiaoguizi said.

If the little devils want to conquer China, they need people like the officers of the Jinsui Army to provide them with information about the Chinese army.

By evening, the reporter in the cellar had not eaten anything all day.

Their stomachs began to cramp from excessive hunger.

Under the dim light, seven pairs of hungry wolf-like eyes stared at a small, dark mass, which was exactly the nest they had been looking down on today.

But no one went to pick up the cornbread because it was a matter of dignity that others could not understand.

What dignity does a person who has bowed to the little devil have?

Perhaps after eating this steamed bun, they became inferior people and inferior to their companions.

After all, dignity could not withstand hunger. A reporter glanced at his companion and took a step closer to the nest.
Chapter completed!