Posts from The Empire of Reimia (3) Auto-translated

!Boo-ru-ru-ru!
Latro ruined the amplifier.

Added 10 minutes later
— Excellent, excellent! You have a good understanding of the profession and excellent literary skills. — Kikhrey vigorously patted Moriner on the shoulder. — In general, journalists, regardless of their field, can be divided into three types. Can you guess which ones?

Passionate, cool, and cute.

-Regardless of the direction... -the question clearly implied a similar answer, but caused Moriner unexpected difficulties. -I don't even know... -he smiled sheepishly. -Maybe by the way they conduct their activities?

“Yes, yes, that’s exactly why. Don’t worry that you can’t define this distinction more precisely; I came up with it myself, ha-ha…” He finished the last slice of pizza. “There are true seekers of truth who set out to find and disseminate genuine information, as you yourself mentioned earlier. Such people are usually driven by professional duty or a sense of justice. Unfortunately, there are practically no such journalists these days, and those who do exist don’t last long. I think it’s not hard to guess why.” Kikhrey deftly took off his shirt and showed Moriner his back, which, in addition to a large tattoo depicting the same girl as on the poster, but in a different pose, had several bullet wounds. Immediately afterward, he buttoned himself up just as quickly and returned to his previous position. “Next, there are those who hunt for sensational stories, driven solely by the desire for profit. Given the stricter laws on the dissemination of information in our country over the past six months, there are also fewer of these journalists. And finally, there are government employees like you and me. You have already correctly identified our task when you answered my first question. Unfortunately, this means that sometimes you will have to call white black and black white, but by agreeing to a government contract, you are signing up for this, and therefore, afterward, you can only complain about yourself. I think it is important for you to understand this so that you do not have any moral dilemmas later on.”

Moriner listened attentively to Kikhrey, without interrupting and trying not to miss anything.

Unfortunately, this means that sometimes you will have to call white black, and black white, but by agreeing to a government contract, you are signing up for it, and therefore you can only blame yourself later. I think it is important that you understand this, so that you do not have any moral dilemmas about it later.

-Yes, I understand. Moriner put the mug on the table and thoughtfully crossed his fingers. -So, I will try to focus on the third type. Thank you for the explanation.
He had expected something like this. Fortunately, the mentor had a similar view of their activities. Or, at least, he had acquired it not too late?

“Well, that’s great,” the journalist glanced at his watch, “so let’s move on to the practical test? There was a massacre in the local military base, and I want you to write an article about it.” He awkwardly scratched the back of his head. “I understand, it’s not an easy topic, but in war, you’ll see even worse things, so it’s better to be prepared in advance. How do you feel about it?”

-I'm ready. - Moriner thought to himself that he wasn't really ready, but there was no turning back now. -Is there any information available about this, or will everything need to be figured out on the spot?

“I’ll tell you about it on the way,” Kikhrei pulled a white pill from his shirt pocket and put it in his mouth, and handed another one to Moriner, “suck on it under your tongue, it will help you cope with the sight of the dismembered body.”

Moriner nodded and took the pill.

It took them about forty minutes to reach the destination, and for some reason, Moriner's vision blurred, and he slumped. Perhaps it was fear of what he was about to see, or maybe a side effect of the medicine?
— Hey, are you okay? — Kikhrei gently shook the student's shoulder.

-Yes, it's just... -Moriner made an effort to stay on his feet and remain conscious. -Maybe I'm tired, or it's an allergy... - he mumbled. The student tried to gather his strength and pull himself together. He couldn't pass out on the very first assignment; he had gone through that damned endurance training, so there should be at least some result.

“Oh, I see, so let’s take a little break then. We have plenty of time, ha-ha.” They stood there for a while near the academy grounds, in a place where there were no other people, but despite the rest, Morineru didn’t feel any better; on the contrary, he was losing himself more and more, and at some point, he completely stopped understanding what Kikhrei was talking about, and then he stopped understanding what was happening at all. “You know, I can’t stand human trash. Why don’t all these creatures just die and leave good people alone?” The journalist took a well-sharpened axe out of his bag and energetically twirled it in his hands. “A few days ago, as often happens with me, I stayed up until morning and went to bed very late, and as a result, I woke up with a headache and someone shouting. I looked out the window, and there were young people. Well, nothing can be done, I thought, but imagine – one of them was walking his dog, and it pooped right in front of my house! Of course, its owner didn’t think to clean it up… But never mind, there’s karma in this world.” Kikhrei deftly climbed over the fence, and two guard dogs immediately rushed at him. He stopped one with his elbow and hit the other with the axe between the eyes, killing it instantly. With the next blow, he finished off the second dog and waved his hand at Morineru, as if inviting him to follow. For some reason, at this point, the student found it all incredibly amusing and climbed over the fence after the journalist. Kikhrei handed him the bloodied axe and went to the neighboring dormitory, leaving the student near the first one.

- Guys, how did you manage to create yours? I've been trying and trying, but I haven't achieved anything. Maybe I chose a difficult element...

— Looks like it requires a delicate touch, — Ed nodded towards his failed attempts, — you need to know what you're doing or rely on luck.
Avion Craig enters the club room.
— Well, what have we here? Hmm, three out of twelve, not bad for a bunch of monkeys. Alright, you've damaged enough amplifiers for today, let's call it a day.