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July 9th, 1050 hours.
By now, the view outside the train car—well, the stuffy boxcar didn't have windows, and the door hardly showed any trace of the war's scars anymore.
In the glow of the rising sun, the fields of the Kazaria Kingdom were lavishly revealing their beauty.
Before crossing over, Wang Zhong had seen an anti-American war film by a famous director, and the scene that impressed him the most was when the protagonist, traveling by train to the border, opened the door to glimpse the grand landscapes of his homeland.
Although that scene looked somewhat cheap due to budget cuts in favor of high-profile celebrities, the scenery was undeniably picturesque.
Now, looking at the grasslands of Kazaria, Wang Zhong was reminded of that moment.