In one country near the Black Sea border of Bosporus, there was a war between the two major countries to occupy and harvest two gold mines near the edge of the Black Sea, my village in Istanbul, where I was born and raised. Nice and beautiful land, but now what? The war destroyed everything.And I'm dead. On this land.My soul floats in the air, taking the sight of a third man watching the battlefield. The smoke was hazy, surrounded by dead arms, broken legs, incomplete body fragments, and resentment everywhere.The leader's shouts of cheerleaders, the sweet temptation of fantasy: promotion, rise to rank, money calculated according to the odds of killing the enemy, when killing, cut off the enemy's left ear to win the gold prize…It's crazy, how can they be so scary? They're a bunch of demons, demons, looking at human lives like garbage. I even want to make more money. They even went into the homes of innocent people, slaughtered, and cut off the left ear of good men. And mothers, dau
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