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

Doug released his grip on PTT's hand, nodded to the team members, and then they paired up.

They each deployed and launched a fierce attack on the enemy blocking their path.

Driven by their oath and for the lives of others, they decided to go despite knowing nothing about the enemy's location, deployment, number of people, equipment, or characteristics.

It's dangerous, but they face danger every day. There may be sacrifices, but they are prepared to die so that no one else can die innocently.

The Hundred-Eyed Giant Squad, set off.

Volume 1: The World Before the Great War: Chapter 31 The Doll Girl's Skills Have Been Updated!

Shortly after parting ways with the noble squad, Raphael found a long-abandoned detached family house with red "X"s painted on the doors and windows.

In the distance, Lex's gang's henchmen were systematically and methodically sweeping through the building, turning it upside down.

At this rate, they won't be able to find this place for a long time. Even if they do, seeing the warning signs painted on the door, they probably won't come in to search for supplies.

This place was a deadly contaminated zone teeming with the greenback smallpox virus; only those who were tired of living would enter. When the residents of the high-rise apartment across the street saw Raphael enter the villa, they all simultaneously drew their curtains, no longer paying attention to this pitiful man who seemed intent on dying.

Therefore, this is the perfect place to rest and recuperate.

Villains may risk their lives for resources and take risks for pleasure, but they will not waste their lives recklessly.

Raphael was quite confident in this assessment.

She put down the heavy package, took out the vacuum-packed sheets and cup lids from the locker in the guest room, then placed the pistol under her pillow and tried to enter a second period of hibernation.

She didn't sleep well that night—a gunfight had broken out nearby. Thankfully, the gunfight didn't spread. However, it served as a reminder that she needed to leave immediately.

Following human habits of storing resources, Raphael searched the apartment, but found only a meager find—clearly, the previous owner's estate wasn't substantial. Besides broken bottles scattered everywhere, there was only a pile of rotten and shriveled fruit and a few canned vegetables.

Oh, and there's some white sugar too.

All that's left is garbage.

She had no interest in the clothes in the wardrobe, and it wasn't the season for her to wear those revealing outfits yet.

Raphael awaited the arrival of the second night. Night was the best camouflage, or rather, her night vision gave her a tactical advantage that others could hardly match, while others could barely see the road in New York's dim lighting.

Another reason was that she was accessing data stored on the ISAC offline terminal device. Rather than a dedicated personal terminal processing device for the SHD, it was more like a high-performance laptop equipped with a detachable keyboard and touchscreen.

When Raphael read the hardware information, he discovered that the device simply had an internal anti-interference coating added. It had some effect, but it was better than nothing.

It is precisely because of this coating that it can function normally in the inner isolation zone where radiation is everywhere.

"It's another example of reverse engineering from a black box technology," Raphael commented.

She orchestrated a complete unlocking process, then used the access verification number provided by Doug Sutton to generate the corresponding identification file. She then packaged and copied the system, performed an image operation on the original system, and completed the boot reconstruction to ensure that the system would boot into the image system.

Only after confirming everything was in order did she allow the mirrored carrier system to start running.

The processed cloned virtual system completely lost its ability to connect to the SHD network and could only connect to the network released by the MPU-5 radio.

The complex system refactoring was finally completed. Raphael realized that for the past dozen or so hours, she had only been busy fiddling with electronic devices and hadn't done anything else.

Skill: Computer Science and Technology +1

Never mind, she put down her things and took a nap before it got dark—after all, even human form gets mentally exhausted. When she woke up, it was so dark that she couldn't see her hand in front of her face.

This was the first time she had ever seen a city so dark at night. After all, there's always some light. Even during a power outage, someone can always come up with all sorts of glowing gadgets.

But now it's pitch black, almost indistinguishable from the middle of nowhere.

There was no firelight, no lamplight, and it was even a little scary.

Then there's the sound. The tactical headset that comes with the MPU-5 has excellent sound pickup; it's so quiet now that even the sound of wind hitting the window sounds strange.

There was a constant creaking sound coming from somewhere, clearly someone had forgotten to close the door. Then there was the rustling of trash being blown by the wind, but no sound of any engine, large motor, or footsteps.

After taking out his MRE (Military Resistant Equipment) rations and eating them along with canned vegetables, Raphael packed up his belongings, finally stuffing his computer into the innermost padded layer of his backpack.

After reading the number of online devices and removing the MPU-5 radio, the SHD laptop appeared in the list.

Although the bed was warm, she had to get going. There was no need to stay any longer.

Before leaving, Raphael didn't lock the door. Instead, she used a piece of paper to wedge it shut to prevent it from slamming shut. She also stuffed more paper into the gap between the door and the floor so that it wouldn't be blown open and closed by the wind, or at least not blown directly open.

She also recorded the coordinates of the house as a refuge she could run to in case of danger.

And now, this house, which others consider to be severely contaminated by the virus, is the best candidate location.

Raphael didn't intend to break through the front door, but instead left through the backyard and entered the pitch-black back alley. Holding her XM5 assault rifle, she turned on the IR illuminator of her AN/PEQ-5 laser generator, using the extra light to make out the terrible scene in the alley.

Bags of garbage almost filled the entire alley.

She opened her eyes wide, pricked up her ears, and quickly left the alleyway reeking of decay and stench, heading towards another street. Before leaving the alley, she paused in the darkness, holding her breath and listening silently… Nothing. She could sense nothing.

It was so quiet.

They reached another street, much wider than the previous one. Raphael looked around, adjusting the night vision parameters to make the world, devoid of additional light sources, appear slightly brighter.

After familiarizing herself with the street layout, she could make out the outlines of the buildings and the surrounding greenery. It was quite quiet for the time being.

She seized the opportunity to leave, quickly crossing the street without eliciting any shouts or reactions from anyone.

Everything went smoothly, so let's get out of here quickly...

As she cautiously navigated the streets, she accessed radio recordings stored on Doug Sutton's hard drive. The audio recordings, marked as crucial by him, declared: "JTF betrayed us!"

The recording denounced the weak and incompetent commanders of the joint operations forces, explained the failure of the "Dark Zone" project, and explained why many agents and Rangers suffered heavy losses as a result.

Finally, the person who released this audio roared righteously, "I'm leaving SHD. JTF, agents, go to hell!"

Raphael laughed; she had finally heard news of the Rangers.

As planned, they did not station themselves on Wall Street, but instead moved into Midtown to carry out their mission. According to the recording, the Rangers also undertook some duties related to maintaining order in the city.

Why is that?

Raphael couldn't understand it, and then he thought, if I can't understand it, I'll go and understand it.

They abandoned the mission.

Or is this part of the mission? It seems that contacting them has become very important.

Volume 1: The World Before the Great War: Chapter 32 Making an Example

Before Doug Sutton disconnected the network, he received a broadcast message from other agents.

Agent Clark spoke sharply, but what he said was indeed an undeniable fact.

He said in the recording:

"I started out as a very enthusiastic Homeland Strategic Services agent, ready to enter the city and save everyone. But you know what? This city doesn't want anyone to come to its rescue at all..."

Based on the situation in the city, at least that's the assessment. There's not much we can do, and it's too late. Too many people have already died, but there aren't enough agents, and some have left because they feel it's pointless.

No matter what we do, the situation doesn't improve.

Raphael listened expressionlessly, then opened another recording.

"One day I left with my equipment and went into the Dark Zone. Another agent came into the Dark Zone looking for me. I knew that guy only wanted to take the equipment I was wearing and didn't care whether I lived or died."

When he got very close to me, I shot him. Do you know how I felt? I felt nothing. I've never killed a single good person, I've never killed a secret agent, but this incident made me think a little…

What other ideas could they have but the thought of defecting from the National Strategic Bureau?

This is thanks to the hasty orders issued by the JTF commander, which not only disrupted many original plans but also left behind countless valuable assets.

And he, "Clark," knew where to go to find treasure.

In the recording, he stated that he would try to take away the communication equipment and weapons left behind by the Strategic Homeland Security Agency in the inner containment zone, also known as the "Dark Zone".

These were used to build a secure network, infiltrate the Strategic Homeland Security Agency's communications network, and flag those who became defectors.

His reason for doing so was straightforward: Clark didn't want to be hunted down, and he felt that providing some necessary intelligence could help those forced to live alone survive longer.

"I don't trust anyone. You can't trust anyone here. There's a reason they call us 'traitorous agents,' because we're just trying to survive here."

Once you've achieved something great, some people will get jealous and try to sabotage you.

So I kept doing it, and everyone seemed to enjoy it. Hopefully, it kept me alive, instead of getting shot a few more times. Rogue Agent Clark, permanently offline.

Although the owners of these recordings all claimed to have betrayed the cause, Raphael felt that "defection" was a more appropriate term. If even their superiors and allies had chosen to abandon them, what reason was there to continue the mission of restoring the city?

Raphael watched the figures passing by in the distance, then shook out his winter coat and hat, and headed west along the road toward the quarantine zone.

Along the way, you can see people fiddling with things next to abandoned vehicles, digging deep in dilapidated shops, and even people who suddenly fall down while walking, then get up again and drag their tired legs to measure the road step by step!

After a month of lockdown in New York, they have struggled to survive for 30 days.

Occasionally, among these middle-aged people, old ladies, old men, and children dressed in tattered clothes, there would also be young women wearing fashionable coats. They looked pitiful, covered in dust, their carefully styled hair in a mess, standing helplessly in front of the garbage heap.

Even now, these women are unwilling to let go of their pride. Their fingers are stiffly clenched together, and their bodies tremble with fatigue and hunger.

A few burly young men stood scattered not far away, cigarettes dangling from their mouths, the smoke flickering with their breath, clearly visible from a distance.

They gathered these people together as cheap labor for scavenging and searching. Only by finding valuable items in apartments, office buildings, and other places could they obtain enough food to sustain them for the day.

At a slightly farther intersection, Raphael could see from afar that the thugs, transformed into bloodthirsty monsters, were dragging a tall, middle-aged man, beating him until he was covered in blood, and then dragging him to the road intersection.

Just as she was wondering what these people were up to, a young man dressed in orange raised his machete high and then swung it down suddenly.

A head rolled to the center of the intersection.

"This is what happens when you resist!" the man shouted.

The roar of the diesel generator echoed through the sky near the intersection, and the head, still bearing a terrified expression, was kicked away by the man with the knife.

Under the pale searchlights of the checkpoint, only a headless corpse and bloodstains scattering cold light in all directions remained.

If all goes well, the bloodstain will be covered by the snow after daybreak.

Large and small trees stretched quietly along both sides of the road, and this very ordinary scene was deeply imprinted in Raphael's mind.

The aura of death suddenly emerged from the cars and asphalt road, striking her with a force as heavy as the combined power of a giant windmill.

It rises from the ground, from beneath the broken paving stones. It leaps from wrecked cars, from machines that haven't been running properly in days. It seeps slowly from towering streetlights, and spreads quietly from maggot-infested garbage heaps.

It managed to emerge from all the objects in her field of vision, as if it—death—had made up its mind to replace everything that could be seen and touched.

Raphael stood in the shadows, savoring this rare and precious experience.

It felt like death was not only visible, but also real!

Live and alive!

She had grown accustomed to its straightforward style, rushing in without any pretense, impatient, even clinging to the weapon in her hand.