box.

In addition, there are two people trying to use jacks to lift the car's head that is pressed against the side of the gutter. However, perhaps it is because the ground is too soft after it has just rained, or because the space is too small to fit in.

Without entering the jack, the two of them spent almost the entire journey cursing the burst tire in different ways.

In the middle of the road, there was a soldier with a Thompson submachine gun in his hand, sitting on a tire waiting to be replaced, looking warily in the direction of the intersection, which was only a few dozen meters away.

Then look at the far distance toward the rear of the truck. It was so dark that nothing could be seen.

There was a soft "click" sound, and the American soldier sitting on the tire as a sentry lit a cigarette with a lighter, took a hard sip and then asked, "Morgan, how long will it take you to replace it?"

Good tires?”

"At least we have to find a way to lift the top of the car first, but now the weight of the entire car is almost here."

A soldier who was busy complained, "I think we'd better send someone back to ask for help. I'm afraid we will have to work until dawn to get this car out."

"It would be nice if the sun comes up soon"

A soldier who was busy moving boxes at the back of the car took over and said, "I feel uneasy now as if there are hundreds of enemies hidden around me."

"Or should we leave the car here and go back?"

The soldier sitting on the tire said in a puff of smoke, "I heard others say that enemies will indeed pass by on this road. It seems to be the intersection ahead."

"Drew! Can't you say something pleasant?" Another soldier who was busy at the front of the car complained.

"Happy? Of course!"

The soldier sitting on the tire flicked the cigarette butt away, "If there is an enemy at the crossroads ahead, I hope it is the Chinese and not the Northern Han."

This chapter is not over yet, please click on the next page to continue reading! "Why?" a soldier at the back of the car asked curiously.

"If it's the Beihan people, it's useless even if we surrender, we'll still die." The soldier named Drew on the tire responded, "If it's the Chinese people, it seems like we can survive as long as we surrender."

"real?"

"Of course it's true!" Drew said with certainty, "A pilot friend of mine was caught a few months ago, and he even wrote a letter to his wife."

"How did you know he wrote to his wife?" the soldier named Morgan couldn't help but ask.

"Before I came here, his wife told me about it in bed," Drew said with a hint of showoff, "You must know which one I'm talking about. I even showed you her swimsuit photos."

"Why are there scum like you around us?" A soldier at the back of the car laughed and cursed, "But the woman in that photo has really big breasts."

"It's the same brain as her pilot husband's. It's full of fat," Drew said sarcastically. "That stupid pilot actually wrote to his wife in a letter saying that he was very happy there and that he had sex with several black people.

friend."

"It must be fake!"

The soldier named Morgan made a categorical judgment, "Just look at the Chinese and Northern Han people in our prisoner of war camp. They are starving to death, and our people must not be having a hard time there either.

Maybe the pilot was bribed."

"I guess so"

Drew said indifferently, "But no matter what, at least he must have survived. His wife still regrets why he didn't die in the battle, so that she can get a pension."

Just when Wei Ran was about to continue listening to what these people had to say, Liu Yijiao suddenly stood up, jumped out with the submachine gun in his hand, and shouted "Hands Up" in English with a strong accent!

－－－－－－Digression－－－－－
Chapter completed!