Eh? You want to try the humanoid girl's iron fist too?

No one had taken a shower or changed their clothes; they had been wearing their hazmat suits for 10 days.

Since being ordered into New York, most of them haven't bothered to groom themselves, as all the mirrors and reflective surfaces on the Humvees were broken during previous missions assigned by the Department of Defense.

After the disinfectant had completely dried, they took off their hazmat suits, hugged each other, and then laughed heartily, deriving a sliver of immoral pleasure from each other's disheveled faces.

The teeth that peeked out from the dirty face seemed even whiter.

It seems everyone has forgotten that the previous combat environment was filled with deadly radiation.

The oldest member of the platoon was 35-year-old Sergeant Major Mike Wayne. He walked among the platoon members, cupping their heads and shaking them like puppets.

"Rangers!"

He kept repeating the phrase in a thick Texas accent, and someone immediately replied, "Lead the way!"

"Which bastard sent us to that godforsaken place?"

"Cesare Colcrown asked. The tobacco spittle he exhaled was blown away by the wind and fell like a drizzle on the faces of his companions.

"This is definitely the stupidest thing we've ever done."

Caesar seemed to be losing control, and kept complaining:

"When we went underground, I only had one thought in my mind..."

He continued excitedly:

“Those guys are like cockroaches, constantly swarming out to shoot at us, it’s fucking awful.”

Culturally, these Rangers could not possibly gain the approval of their predecessors among the “Greatest Generation”—Americans who participated in the war.

They are a generation that grew up in the atmosphere of the "Hip-Hop" subculture, Michael Jackson, and Tucker Carlson.

For them, "Asshole" and "Fuck" are affectionate terms.

Some of them were former members of juvenile delinquency gangs, while others were new Christians saved by holy water.

Many of them couldn't live without drugs before joining the army; and many of them dreamed of leaving the army one day and getting back to their long-lost drugs.

These young people largely represent the current group of abandoned children.

Mike Wayne let the young men in the platoon vent their anxieties and anger. He had read the files of many people in the company; more than half of them came from broken homes and were raised by single parents who were away working all day.

Many people are more familiar with games, TV series, and unrestrained sexual content online than with their parents.

Before the uncontrolled expansion of the "war on terror," no one had much hope for this generation; they just hoped that they could finish high school peacefully and that there wouldn't be more school massacres like those at Columbine High School.

When Wayne returned from Iraq, he discovered that the invasion of Iraq was just another battle in a war that had no end.

The fatal flaw is that the "war on terror" only accelerated a trend that began in the 1990s in Somalia, Haiti, and Kosovo: the beacon strengthened its role as the world's policeman, but made the world situation even worse.

He also knew a joke that used to circulate only in the Marine Corps:

"After completing our mission here, we will attack North Korea, invade Iran, Russia, and XX, and then invade into space or underground. Wherever there is oil, there we will be."

Although the commander-in-chief told them that they were fighting in Iraq today to defend freedom, few would be surprised if someone found out that they were actually there to seize oil.

In a sense, it's to be expected that someone would lie to them.

They were a group of young people thrown into a protracted war since the Vietnam War, no different from their predecessors who joined the battlefield a few years earlier.

Young people who grew up inspired by David Crockett realized their president was deceiving them as they fought in the jungles of Southeast Asia.

And young people today are still willing to risk their lives for the hypocritical excuses of politicians.

Mike Wayne couldn't understand it. He suddenly grinned. If he could understand it, he wouldn't be here today as a Ranger sergeant.

A copy appeared in downtown New York City.

The wind and snow intensified, and the sky gradually turned from white to gray.

Wayne looked back, but the battalion commander who had been there just moments before was gone.

At that moment, Bliss's voice came over the camp's loudspeaker, and he began to speak.

"...I'll skip the self-introduction for now, everyone knows who I am...but I'll say it anyway, I'm Charles Bliss, Lieutenant Colonel, which means I'm your battalion commander."

From the first moment I put on this uniform, I knew I was on a path I was destined to walk, and I knew I had to shoulder the burden that would accompany me throughout my life. Even if our army turns its back on us, my duty to serve remains.

The men and women of the 2nd Ranger Battalion take their duty seriously. We will fulfill our mission and pledge our allegiance to the Constitution with honor and dignity.

And if necessary, we will fight to the last man who falls, because that's who we are, that's what we'll do.

Bliss took some time to explain the current situation in New York to all officers and soldiers, the Department of Defense's unacceptably harsh attitude towards them, and what exactly was happening in downtown New York City.

They faced the double blow of unexplained nuclear radiation and a deadly virus that caused boils all over the body.

Things spiraled out of control far beyond the comprehension of the New York City and state governments, and even the White House was baffled as to what was happening.

Things were already out of control before they even signed the order.

The only effective approach is to exert strong authority over the residents of New York. When people are panicked and angry, that's when they do foolish things and threaten the lives of others.

Bliss had seen this far too many times in Iraq and Syria. In times like these, there was no other way but to suppress their instinctive impulses and implement a zero-tolerance policy—in times of chaos, harsh measures were necessary!

“Look…”

A giant screen was erected in front of the New York Public Library.

The projector projected the computer screen onto the screen, with the most eye-catching feature being the "JTF" logo and the results of their operation over the past few days.

"That's the capability of the joint operations forces in the heart of Manhattan, that's why they sealed it off and called it the 'Dark Zone.' That's a horrifying way of describing a place where there's absolutely no rule of law."

"You can't monitor it there, much less control it. You can't let something like this happen right under your nose."

"Sir, isn't our objective to evacuate from here?" A young man's voice came over the loudspeaker.

“We do need to find a way to evacuate; but now is not the time to leave. Are you willing to let this great city become a land of the gods? Are you willing to let all the hard work we've put in over the past few days go up in flames? I'm sorry, we can't do that.”

The young soldier replied, "Yes, sir."

"The key point is that this proves our operations are more effective and organized, so we achieved twice the results with half the manpower. The repeated failures of the joint operations forces in the Dark Zone are precisely why this city needs the Rangers."

Bliss had probably taken a short break; the sound of him drinking water to moisten his throat could be heard coming from the loudspeaker.

"Now, what we need to do is assess our resources and confirm our mission objectives. The objectives are clear—we must regain control and reclaim the resources we left behind, while we cannot misjudge the situation."

Every soldier is a life, every soldier is a vital asset, but we have no reinforcements to rely on, nor any support from the air.

We must act prudently, retaking the city step by step, while also cherishing our lives.

I need you all to be prepared to make quick judgments. It's better to kill the innocent than to let the guilty escape. Even if you're not 100% sure, it's better to fire first than to risk being shot yourself.

This is how we win this war; collateral damage can be anticipated…

Mike Wayne stared wide-eyed, his mouth agape as if he wanted to say something, but he couldn't utter a single word.

Lieutenant Colonel Charles Bliss's speech was like dropping a bomb in the crowd.

Volume 1: The World Before the Great War: Chapter 21 The Doll Girl Can't Get Energetic

The long-awaited night has finally arrived.

A convoy coming from the Williamsburg Bridge appeared in front of Rafael, and the leading National Guard soldier came up to greet her.

“Sir, do you remember me?” the lieutenant said.

"What brings you here?" Raphael asked. She remembered this guy—Joey Danny, who was a sergeant when they first met.

"We are a volunteer exploration team, ordered to come in and investigate the pollution situation in the central urban area, and at the same time establish a bridgehead, and incidentally transport ammunition and food for you, sir."

Joey Danny directed the others to slowly clear out the clutter from the basement, while simultaneously constructing an outer defensive position supported by three Humvees.

Finally, the 5-ton military truck, fully loaded with various supplies, drove into the underground parking lot of the residential building.

They brought enough supplies and ammunition to sustain an infantry platoon for half a month, as well as sophisticated observation instruments specifically designed to analyze and record the types of radiation emanating from the central urban area.

"Sir, basic disinfection is complete," Dalton said as he ran over.

"What about the level of radiation contamination?"

"It's within the safe range, but the value is still too high."

Danny shouted to the others, "It's not safe here, be careful!" After giving them this stern warning, he continued exchanging information with Raphael.

The Lex Gang, the Purifiers, and the Rangers stationed at the Public Library and constantly expanding their territory.

When she spoke of the Rangers, she preferred to call these few hundred men the "survivor army." She had heard Lieutenant Colonel Billis's speech that day on the Army's radio channel.

Driven by curiosity and also to meet her employer's needs, she approached a soldier who had "accidentally" become separated from his post while on patrol—Russell Cofax, a sergeant.

He very generously provided a recording, and in return, Raphael gave him a train ticket to leave Manhattan.

Russell Cofax was tired of the incoherent and evasive talk of the battalion commander and other bureaucrats, and believed that someone had to step forward and tell the truth.

He said, "Especially those high-ranking officials, they're absolutely insane."

"That's right. I've been with these people for six years. Before that, I participated in all sorts of exercises for the United States. I was ordered to set foot on three continents, acted as a peace envoy and instructor, and served as a private bodyguard for the presidents of some countries, some of which you may never have even heard of."

Having experienced all sorts of weird things during my service, I'm pretty experienced, but what I'm about to encounter is something I've never experienced before, and it's not a good thing..."

Regarding the Lex Gang, Facox described it as follows:

"When we first set foot on this island, our mission was quite simple: to maintain order in the mission area and stop looters, thieves, or people who intended to cause trouble."

This was originally an action with good intentions and a clear purpose.

We clashed with those bastards from Rix Island, but we held our ground, taught them a lesson, and showed them what disciplined fighting really is.

. "

"However, apart from our B Company carrying out street security missions, the other two combat companies are always nowhere to be found, which is very strange."

Falcox added that he requested Raphael to submit an additional explanatory document along with the recording to demonstrate the significance of the matter.

Raphael asked, "Do you know where they went?"

"I don't know. On that day, Company A and Company C set off from two completely opposite directions from the east and west of the library, maintaining radio silence the entire time."

As for the Purifiers, he said they were all a bunch of lunatics.

They were all mentally unstable because they planned to protect the city by burning it down, and each of them was dressed like a monster with a shiny fuel canister on their back.

"...We tested those fuel canisters; they don't explode like in the movies and games when they hit. The technicians in Easy Company checked the bottles; someone is helping them produce napalm."

We tried to reason with them, but you'd always get a response like "purify the virus infection with flames." Trying to reason with them was like talking to a brick wall.

Therefore, upon returning to camp, Billis immediately rallied his troops and swiftly rallied the scattered morale of his men. The Rangers—no, the Survivors' Army—were the only disciplined force actually stationed on Manhattan Island with real combat capabilities, comprised entirely of combat experts from top to bottom.