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Text Epilogue

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.    Holding the diary, Jack's heart was racing. He grew up in an orphanage and had imagined his parents' appearance countless times in his dreams, but he never thought it would be so bizarre.  He wished he could run to the opposite room right now to confront Brown, that is, Trigger.  But thinking about how much he missed himself and his former teammates for so many years, Jack still resisted the strong impulse in his chest.

    (Sorry, redb, I never give up, but it¡¯s a pity that I let you down! There is a diary in it. If you find the child in the future forget it)

    The last blank part of the diary is filled with old news clippings.

    (In the ten years after the end of the Iraq War, American reporters calculated that four SEAL teams, 1, 2, 3, and 5, were missing, and hundreds of soldiers did not return to their places of origin after being discharged.

    Senior scientists from several large scientific laboratories in Europe have died one after another, and the intensity is staggering.  )

    The handwriting on the last page of the notebook is beautiful flowing gold English.

    (That morning, when 6.5 billion people in the world were deciding whether to have bread or porridge for breakfast, 2,700 people committed suicide, 3,242 people died in traffic accidents, 5,000 died of tuberculosis due to fever, 14,000 were infected with the AIDS virus, and 30,000 children died of hunger  And before my eyes, 1,000 people died when four notorious thugs detonated small dirty bombs! One of them left four bags of the only plasma he had for his brother. Guess what the newspaper said?

    Nothing important happened today!  )

    Gently rubbing his fingers through the dark red rough hair on the cowhide cover, Jack put down the diary.  A breeze blew by behind him, cooling down the hot sweat he had suffered from nervousness. He turned around and closed the balcony sliding door that had opened at some point.  After looking at the chaotic night scene below for a while through the thick windproof glass, he turned back and picked up the red wine beside the bed. He couldn't help but think of the diary that disappeared in the second half

    Another gust of breeze blew by, and Jack turned around in surprise to look at the balcony door he had closed with his own hands, but before he could move, he felt a cold, hard object pressed under his neck.  There was a slight pain on his skin, and blood stained his white silk shirt red along the side of his neck.  Realizing that he had a knife held to his neck, Jack froze. Years of experience in danger made him wait for the person to express his intention.

    The wind continued to blow, and white-gold hair kept blowing from behind to Jack's face. With the corner of his eye, he secretly glanced down. Holding a tiger fighting knife that was curved like a goat's horn was a tiger fighting knife.  On her slender, jade-like hands, there were two black diamond rings on her ring finger.

    "It's a blessing for me to allow you to go in, but you dare to take advantage of it. Tell me, boy, who are you? Why did that bastard Brown dare to risk his head and hand over my husband's diary to you"

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