Chapter 724: The Rebels of the Ivory Tower

Lin Mo did not expect to encounter a familiar face in Damascus. He recognized the Fudan University student who was using medicated oil as a pass.

Wasn’t he supposed to be in Aleppo? How did he end up on the front lines in Damascus?

This university student named Luo Yang had traveled a long way to participate in the rebellion just to write a passionate and heartfelt social practice paper amidst the chaos of war in Syria.

Well, whether he rebels or not, as long as he doesn’t act against the Chinese Government, everything should be fine.

What seemed astonishing to others was insignificant to Lin Mo.

At the age of Luo Yang, Lin Mo had already killed countless people in the Dragon Knight Corps of the Su Lan Empire. Even before becoming a Dragon Knight, he had stained his hands with blood for survival.

The university students with bright futures in the Ivory Tower were much happier than Lin Mo, who had painful memories.

“Morin! Is that you?”

A shadow jumped out from behind a broken wall, running toward Lin Mo with an AK-74 in hand, while another hand gripped binoculars. Recognizing him, it was Morin, the Xinhua News Agency reporter who shared a boat with him on the Euphrates River.

He gestured behind him to show that the newcomer was not a threat.

In the distance, rhythmic gunfire and occasional explosions echoed. Not every corner of Damascus was as quiet as one might think.

The Freedom Army had quickly infiltrated this area; the chaotic battlefield saw both sides engaged in a dance of advance and retreat. Perhaps a small squad from the Freedom Army had just penetrated here.

“What a coincidence, Luo Yang!”

Lin Mo smiled lightly and stood still. He noticed that behind the remaining ruins, there were still many armed personnel. Seeing Luo Yang jump out, they assumed he was one of theirs and slightly lowered their weapons.

“Wow, what a coincidence! How did you get here? Do you have another interview to cover? It’s very dangerous here, and it’s even more dangerous for you to be alone.”

Luo Yang looked at Lin Mo with uncertainty, his light gray cloak covering him entirely, revealing only his face. Still slinging his familiar military backpack, he wore protective goggles that highlighted his student appearance.

“I happened to pass by! I have some personal business in another place. Weren’t you in Aleppo? How did you end up here?”

Lin Mo examined the Fudan University student, noticing that his outfit was now no different from the armed personnel of the anti-government forces, and could only identify him as East Asian by his facial features.

“I came to Damascus with a company under Colonel Riyad al-Asad. It’s been exhilarating! If it weren’t for the protection of the Freedom Army, I would have nearly lost my life several times. These past few days have been incredibly fulfilling. I never imagined war could be like this. It’s horrifying! I finally understand the mindset of the older generation who fought for their territory. By the way, how have you been lately? This is not a good place.”

Luo Yang was clearly excited to see a fellow countryman and waved his hand eagerly, “Come on, let’s go to the back! It’s not safe here. Don’t worry, I’ll protect you. It’s been a while since I’ve seen a Chinese person. Here, I can only speak English or use gestures; it’s so awkward. I have a huge scoop for you! The other day, I witnessed a massive aerial battle while my team was coming from Aleppo. Dozens of fighter jets clashed between the government army and the anti-government forces. I can’t forget the scene; the intensity was beyond words! The fighter jets darted through the sky like fireballs or dropped like dumplings. Not a single one escaped. Once they engaged, it was a fight to the death until the last jet. It was brutal! But at the end, I saw one fighter jet actually pull a comrade, who was parachuting down, into its cockpit. My God, it was like a circus act! By the time I got out my DSLR camera, that fighter jet had already flown away. What a pity!”

Lin Mo’s ears perked up. Did he just hear about dozens of fighter jets battling? Wasn’t that the Death Team Battle he had just participated in? Indeed, many sights could be seen from the ground, and he never expected Luo Yang to be one of the free spectators witnessing it firsthand.

“Yes, I saw it too! That was part of my assignment!”

Lin Mo echoed Luo Yang’s words, but he didn’t reveal his true identity. Instead, he acted as a loyal listener, listening to Luo Yang exuberantly describe the events he had personally experienced from the ground perspective.

“Really? What a coincidence!” Luo Yang did not suspect Lin Mo and assumed he was genuinely a reporter. He didn’t realize that reporters, military officials, waiters, and similar jobs were often the identities used by agents and spies.

The once naive university student seemed to undergo a transformation in just about a month, his demeanor rapidly maturing, filled with the fiery spirit of combat. He was entirely different from the innocent students in the Ivory Tower.

The battlefield indeed hones people the most; if he could survive and return home, he might become an outstanding figure among his generation.

Lin Mo glanced around; this was indeed no place for conversation. He couldn’t use the Light Mirror Technique here. Who knows from which corner a soldier from the government army might jump out to intercept the skirmishing Freedom Army fighters?

Though Lin Mo fought on behalf of the government army, he had no real connection to their war against the anti-government forces. The Abyss Nirvana was merely using the names of both sides in Syria as a cover for the participants to engage in their deadly battles, never interfering with the real conflict. Sometimes they even supplied arms to both sides to make the fighting more intense.

“Be careful where you step, there are bullet casings everywhere! Watch your footing,” Luo Yang reminded Lin Mo as he led the way.

When the armed personnel of the Freedom Army saw Luo Yang casually returning with the stranger, and then looked at Lin Mo’s appearance, the tension in their minds eased.

It seemed the newcomer posed no threat and looked familiar with Luo Yang.

Lin Mo followed Luo Yang for some distance outside the city, counting at least a hundred Freedom Army personnel scattered in various corners, forming a subtle defensive position. It appeared this armed group’s infiltration into Damascus was a significant force.

Except for the front-line personnel on guard, the others were either building makeshift fortifications, distributing ammunition or food supplies, or taking a break.

“Sit down! This spot is slightly safer. But if the government army starts shelling, we’ll need to retreat. Every day is like this; sometimes we charge forward, sometimes we fall back. This must be the so-called war of attrition. Just be careful; if you get shot, don’t panic. The chances of survival are pretty high.”

Luo Yang guided Lin Mo to a sheltered corner. Perhaps the days spent in Syria made him feel like life was dragging on, turning him into a nagging old man, but he had a point: the battlefield is a graveyard for cowards.

The ground was covered with several worn-out blankets, and around them were stacks of weapons, assorted canned goods, medical boxes, ammunition boxes, and a small water heater emitting steam—this was a temporary supply point.

Supply points were usually relatively safe.

“Yes, when do you plan to go back?”

Lin Mo accepted a large teacup that Luo Yang handed him.

The poorly crafted iron cup was still rusty and looked like it was salvaged from somewhere; Luo Yang smiled sheepishly and said, “Don’t mind it; this is mine and has been scalded with boiling water. You wouldn’t dare use anyone else’s.”

He glanced to the side, and Lin Mo saw a pile of even dirtier cups.

In war, why worry about such details? Lin Mo smiled knowingly and sipped the hot tea without any disdain. On the battlefield, one could even drink the enemy’s blood; what was there to complain about regarding the cup Luo Yang mentioned? He showed no sign of disgust.

In Muslim countries, tea was an essential part of life. No matter how intense the fighting was, a cup of strong tea often helped exhausted soldiers quickly regain their spirits, even elevating its status to that of a military necessity, like Coca-Cola.

Putting down the AK-74 that glinted with a dark metallic sheen, Luo Yang leisurely replied to Lin Mo’s question, “If we can’t take Damascus this month, I’ll have to return. There are many foreign volunteers like me in the Freedom Army. As long as you’re not a coward on the battlefield, there’s not much restriction; you can come and go freely. People here are very polite and warm to me. Look, this is a photo I took with Colonel Riyad al-Asad! Haha, my classmates are probably red with envy. Maybe reporters will come looking for me for interviews, too.”

He carefully pulled out a sealed wallet from his clothing and flashed a photo in front of Lin Mo. It was rare to have a fellow countryman to show off to; perhaps this was his greatest achievement in Syria.

It must have been taken just before he entered the battlefield, showcasing a youthful, vibrant smile mixed with a hint of naivety and fresh ambition.

“Be careful, too!”

Lin Mo imagined Luo Yang’s mentor’s expression upon seeing the social practice evaluation written for Luo Yang by the Freedom Army leaders. He couldn’t help but smile wider.

Just as Luo Yang was about to continue boasting, a shrill whistle pierced the sky, vibrating the ground as a massive explosion nearby shook the air. The tea cup and small water heater near the blankets clanged together noisily.

It felt like a light breeze had blown through, sending countless fine sand and small stones cascading down from above.

“Damn it, a battle is about to start!” Luo Yang grabbed his AK and jumped up, turning to Lin Mo. He pointed northeast and said, “It’s dangerous here. I’ll find a few reliable brothers to protect you as we leave. Just keep walking that way, and if anyone stops you, just say you’re Luo Yang’s friend. Oh, your press card could also serve as a good pass!”