Dawn of a New Era

Chapter 790 - 763: Photograph

Lanpo Province’s capital, underground air-raid shelter.

"Hello, hello, hello, this is the 98th Division of the 18th Army Group. Our forces have collapsed, Lanpo has fallen, we need support, we need support..."

"Message received, please wait patiently. Perseverance is victory."

"Fu*ck you!"

The phone was slammed down hard.

...

The whole capital of Lanpo Province was filled with smoke, ruins and collapsed walls.

The fragile defense line set up by the European Union in Eastern Europe was as weak as thin paper under the assault of several Barbarian Gods, breaking at the slightest touch.

The powerful mobility made the sluggishly reacting stationed troops unable to respond, causing the army to collapse along the entire line; within just a few hours, several provinces fell one after another, like a nightmare one cannot wake up from.

The city, just ravaged, appeared incredibly quiet; the streets were deserted.

And just a few hours ago, this place was bustling with traffic and people.

Kafelnikov took several photos of a baby’s corpse trampled to death by the crowd on the ground, then cautiously moved forward.

He was covered in dust, with dried blood on his face, looking utterly disheveled.

He was a war journalist, recognizing the danger of his profession, always believing that God watched over him.

He had been to the Yan State battlefield, ventured into occupied areas, photographed the fierce and cruel battles between Barbarian Gods and humans, and captured the scene of mushroom clouds blooming on battlefields.

Yet every time, he returned alive and well; he believed this time would be no different.

The army he followed collapsed in morale and fled scattered without even encountering the Barbarian Gods, leaving him alone.

However, he did not mind.

There was nothing to mind!

A war journalist with depth and independence, no soldier welcomes, but perhaps shoots behind one’s back.

Kafelnikov mocked himself inwardly.

This was no joke; he had been shot from behind.

Many war journalists do not die at the hands of enemies in front but perish from stray bullets behind.

The ugly side of humanity is magnified on the battlefield; killing is merely pulling the trigger for soldiers.

The reason was that you captured something you shouldn’t have.

No one investigates, nor can anyone pursue, as you can’t tell which barrel fired the bullet, let alone count it normal to die on a battlefield.

Plastic bags floated in the wind, giving this once prosperous city a desolate and ruinous feeling.

He picked up a sausage dropped by someone from the ground, carefully dusted it off, and placed it into his backpack.

The war seemed to have passed, but he knew it was just beginning.

What would happen next? He could already foresee.

Just like other occupied areas, this place would be sealed from the outside, the war would continue, nuclear explosions, food shortages, internal chaos, conflict, death, and then... the reconstruction of order, an order established by Barbarian Gods.

Even he didn’t know if he would live to see that day.

"Damn Barbarian Gods?"

He raised his camera, aiming at the broken Alliance Country flag on the distant damaged building bent by the fierce wind.

His expression froze at that moment.

Then his heart pounded wildly, his breath turning heavy.

"Damn... damn!"

Kafelnikov mumbled to himself, trembling as he hurriedly adjusted the focus on his camera.

In the distant sky, a streak of fire resembling a meteor pierced the heavens, rapidly closing in; the terrifying speed stirred the clouds above.

"Oh God, protect Your people!"

He photographed while continuously retreating, quickly cowering around the corner of the building.

But before he could catch his breath, a suffocating aura spread like a descending calamity.

Making his entire body shiver.

Meanwhile, a grand voice echoed from afar:

"An evil creature... Haha, what have I discovered here? This world indeed hosts an evil creature? Let the great God of Casting grant you destruction."

Amidst the dance of the aurora.

A radiant giant with two heads and four arms flew from afar.

Cowering in the corner, fear mingled with shock swirled within Kafelnikov’s heart; as a war journalist, he wasn’t unfamiliar with the language of other worlds, but this sentence left his mind unable to process.

What is going on?

Isn’t that... a Barbarian God?

"Enough talk, die already."

As the words fell, the tide suddenly turned, the initially high-spirited God of Casting seemed to sense a massive threat, screaming in fright, seemingly attempting to flee.

But the next moment, its body was enveloped in a dazzling light.

"Ah..." Kafelnikov instinctively closed his eyes, yet even so, tears flowed easily, the skin felt scorched.

His heart felt like falling into an icy abyss.

Am I blind?!

But he dared neither to howl nor struggle, forced to suppress his inner fear, curling tightly in the corner.

Minute by minute passed, who knows how long went by.

A breeze brushed across his face, dispelling the heat, alleviating the burning sensation.

A voice suddenly broke into his ears.

"Are you a journalist?"

Kafelnikov jolted, instinctively opened his eyes.

The expected blindness did not occur; not even the sting from the strong light persisted, seeing an extraordinarily handsome young man hovering slightly above the ground, akin to a deity descending.

"You... you... you..." Kafelnikov’s eyes widened in disbelief: "You are... God Chen."

Chen Shouyi nodded lightly and spoke in English, "It’s me, are you unharmed now?"

"I am... I am fine now, I’m fine!" Kafelnikov nodded repeatedly in excitement.

"I’ve repaired your camera too, this place is dangerous, go hide in the air-raid shelter." Chen Shouyi finished, preparing to leave, still having several Barbarian Gods to deal with.

"G...God Chen, I know this request might be bold and a waste of your precious time, but could you allow me to take a photo?" Kafelnikov stuttered.

During wartime, people could take photos, but God Chen’s image rights were reserved.

Chen Shouyi reluctantly paused: "Hurry then."

"Okay, okay, okay!" Kafelnikov echoed, picking up his camera, fumbling to press the shutter.

Seeing the other’s shooting nearly done, Chen Shouyi turned to fly skyward.

"Boom!"

After flying several hundred meters, his speed suddenly accelerated, unleashing a shock wave midair.

During this, Kafelnikov held his camera, repeatedly pressing the shutter, trembling with excitement, stopping only when no longer visible.

Images of God Chen were numerous, mainly from interviews and speeches, but such scenes of ’quasi-combat’ intensity were nonexistent.

He already foresaw his rise to fame in journalism.

"Must quickly send these photos out."