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

Death could no longer restrain greed, especially when it had almost conquered the whole world.

"This is the will to die." Raphael raised his gun and extinguished the high-powered searchlight left by the JTF at the outpost, plunging the world back into darkness.

She wondered to herself if those who remained in New York experienced death in the same way. Or was this just a unique experience she had due to the mental black box technology?

This is an interesting question, she thought. But with whom could she discuss it, with whom could she compare herself? In this dilapidated and gloomy city, there wasn't a single person she could consider her own kind.

Like the buildings in other areas, this place is decaying day by day until it becomes a no-man's-land.

One day.

Screams, commotion, rapid footsteps, and the clanging sound of the beams thrown down as they broke down the door all masked Raphael's movements.

She had received specialized training, just like other special forces candidates who participated in physical and combat skills training at the same time, and was adept at handling such situations.

Book 1: The World Before the Great War: Chapter 33 Slave Labor Camp

Eleanor found it amusing, since it was her only source of daily amusement.

There were plenty of hopeful guys in the scavenging team, but she could always spot the scheming ones from the crowd and then drag them out and execute them on the spot.

Catch the guy who incited the scavenging team to rebel, then kick him away.

Everyone quieted down now. Eleanor sat in her guard post, monitoring the work on the highway and in the office buildings.

Happening.

To be honest, these office buildings are really difficult to deal with, even if they contain many priceless items.

In order to bring a building under control, she had to disperse her staff and seal off the area around the office building.

For large-scale looting operations like this, it is essential to ensure the safety of the site, not only to prevent riots or escapes, but also to maintain control of the situation.

Another reason that troubled Eleanor was the uneven quality of the Lex Luthor gang members.

When they are gathered together and given the drugs, it's fine, just like hyenas besieging a large buffalo. Although it's difficult, they will eventually win. But when they are dispersed, their organization quickly drops.

If no one attacks them, it's fine, but once a conflict breaks out, these high-spirited fools won't be able to withstand the enemy's attack at all.

Don't assume there's no conflict within gangs; clashes can also erupt between gangs.

Eleanor couldn't understand why there were so many poisonous insects.

Just then, bullets flew towards them. Before the whooshing sounds had even faded, all the searchlights at the sentry post went out.

—They were attacked.

Eleanor fell sideways to the ground, her eyes closed, waiting for the first round of probing fire to end. By then, her eyes would have adjusted to the dark street.

Raphael, with his superior equipment, launched his attack in his most effective way, and the enemy was thrown into disarray as expected.

When the light suddenly went out, they, along with their slaves, were thrown into panic.

Yes, every time a low, mournful sound drifted from the darkness, someone would fall down and let out a piercing wail; anyone could foresee that they wouldn't die immediately.

Loud cries of despair are the best weapon to destroy morale. If your companion is a hysterical coward who is easily swayed by fear, the situation will be even worse.

Raphael was well aware of this and deliberately avoided hitting parts of the body that would result in immediate death, such as the left chest or the head.

Some people may not be able to see it clearly, but from the perspective of the night market, the effect is equivalent to a camp being blown up.

The slave laborers were fighting each other, entangled with armed thugs, and even the thugs were shooting at each other. The scene was chilling to behold.

The chaos gradually spread, eventually escalating into a civil war among the Lex gangs.

As the chaos spread, Raphael, the instigator, calmly passed through the checkpoint and casually killed a woman who looked like a gang leader.

And so, Miss Doll spent another uneventful night in New York, only a little more intense.

She mentally made a tiny fingertip gesture to prove that her thoughts, experiences, and feelings were entirely true.

Time flew by, and a few hours later, as dawn broke, Raphael realized that she had simply moved from one hell to another, even more cruel purgatory.

This sight, captured by her own eyes, further solidified her belief that "the city is beyond saving."

The elegant building, adorned with marble and artistic reliefs, has been turned into a slave labor camp by the Lex gang. Anyone brought in is searched and all personal belongings are confiscated.

From an ordinary person's perspective, the outsiders were simply bandits.

And they even managed to get their hands on a gun.

Through observation, Raphael gradually came to understand everything. Those who "voluntarily" stayed here were sent to plunder the buildings, and their food rations were minimal.

Many of the weak died before the next food supply arrived; some died on the way to the sweeps, and others were shot by the guards.

Although they were all violent bandits, the guys managing the slave labor camp actually kept a detailed camp log, recording the number of slave laborers who entered and the number who were discarded, with each record signed and sealed by a corresponding person.

The last number that appeared in the logbook was "493", which meant the number of slaves they were currently keeping.

The seemingly neat and orderly lobby is like a gateway to hell on earth.

She photographed every detail of the logbook, and also filmed the process in the disinfection room near the back door. Newly arrived slave laborers had to undergo body washing and disinfection there.

Everywhere was steamy and sewage was flowing everywhere. The ground was littered with clumps of messy hair, infested with lice, and piles of dirty clothes were stacked up.

The most terrifying and disgusting place was Room 1, and there were four such cleaning rooms. The people in the first cleaning room had not yet taken a bath; they had simply stripped naked and used brushes to remove the lice from their bodies.

A large pit with a roaring fire was dug in the yard outside; all the clothes that were taken off were thrown into the pit, and people in protective suits kept sweeping up lice and other small insects that could coexist with humans into baskets, and finally the contents of these baskets were also poured into the fire pit.

The second room was used to clean the hair, shaving off all the hairy areas, and then washing the bodies of these soon-to-be "employed" slaves with water that wouldn't freeze them to death.

Raphael couldn't help but think of Auschwitz, the Nazi camp built 85 years earlier, a purgatory built on the ground by human hands.

The work in the third cleaning room was relatively easy; it simply involved another bath. In the fourth room, the servants would distribute clothing to the slaves; although it wasn't new, it was enough to ensure they wouldn't freeze to death.

If someone dies during this stage, the supervisors will have to handle the rest of the scavenging themselves.

Among those bandits, perhaps only the gang overseers in the cleansing and disinfection process truly valued these precious human resources.

Some might think they've arrived in paradise, but many of the newly hired slave laborers are utterly dejected. Their situation couldn't be worse.

Sooner or later, those bandits will ransack all the apartments they want. What use will the slaves be then? After all, slaves have mouths and need to eat.

Raphael had no intention of getting involved. After obtaining the necessary documents and completing the evidence-gathering and filming of the camp's interior, she had fulfilled the extra task assigned by her employer.

After uploading the documents, I immediately received the "Sound-Only" file from my employer.

He first praised Raphael's performance, then asked in a seemingly serious manner about the actual user experience of the XM5 and XM250, and whether there were any areas he felt needed improvement.

What could she say? This equipment was already being systematically replaced by the army. Even if she raised objections, a new one wouldn't be sent over immediately.

Moreover, the two weapons in hand were already close to the limits of this era. The designers experimentally installed sensors on the XM5 to monitor the working status of the barrel and bolt.

While it offers some combat assistance, it's barely better than nothing. In a gunfight, if the sensors warn of an overheated barrel, should we simply hoist a truce sign and avoid further combat? Obviously not.

Ballistic calculators are pretty useless; they're really not needed in New York's environment.

In most engagements, you only need to place the crosshair on the target and pull the trigger to kill the enemy.

The Razor HD Gen 1-10x24 low-magnification variable sight offers a maximum magnification of 10x, but that's just icing on the cake; most of the time, it operates at 1x magnification.

Raphael could only explain his choice of this magnification by the prospect of a bright future.

As for the physical body, can she get it replaced just by expressing her dissatisfaction? Obviously not. Besides, DARPA's technology hasn't yet advanced to the point where they can produce a new generation of humanoid prototypes.

degree.

It's just a casual greeting; don't take it too seriously.

The person then provided two directions for the next steps: first, to return to the inner containment zone, confirm and attempt to recover the radiation source; second, to try to make contact with the mutinous Rangers and persuade them to return to the Army's command structure.

Regardless of which task is accomplished, the employer will provide the corresponding evacuation platform.

Even though they all knew that even if they failed the mission, Raphael was capable of getting out of Manhattan. The humanoid figure, though a block of metal, could still manage to swim underwater to the other side, even if it was the worst possible route.

Not to mention the National Guard currently stationed on the Williamsburg Bridge; as long as they haven't withdrawn from the bridge, they will definitely open the gates and let people through.

Moreover, Raphael knew and was certain that when she decided to leave, her employer would still reluctantly arrange for an evacuation helicopter.

This is, after all, a very important asset of the Ministry of Defense, and it remains highly irreplaceable, at least until a next-generation product is developed.

Book 1: The World Before the Great War: Chapter 34 Reassessment (Seeking votes and support)

Before leaving the slave camp, as a gift, Raphael also filmed a video of the treatment area and sent it to his "employer".

As for what they would use this for, she had no interest in knowing or caring. If nothing unexpected happened, it would definitely be used as a trump card; whoever ordered the abandonment of New York would be the target of this video evidence.

To ensure her boss's satisfaction, she meticulously documented the necessary details for the video evidence, including the time frame, date range, recorder, and information to prove that this was indeed New York City, guaranteeing her employer's approval.

Those hardworking, careful, and tireless slave laborers witnessed far more horrifying things firsthand than watching videos on a screen.

No one dared to stop working, no one dared to fall to the ground. Yet their bodies were so terrifying, they couldn't even be called human!

As she moved through the camp, she inevitably encountered these poor, enslaved people. The feeling still lingered in her fingertips: she wasn't touching human hands, but bones, covered by a thin layer of empty skin.

The meat is so thin, like rolled-up cold skin noodles, that you can almost see the bones inside.

Once someone collapses during labor, even after being whipped and still unconscious, the slave laborers—regardless of gender—are sent to a disposal room in a corner of the camp for final treatment: their clothes, which prevented them from freezing to death, are retrieved, their hidden personal belongings are searched, their gold teeth (if present) are pried out, and their bones are extracted to the extreme.

When the dying man saw Raphael, he glared at her with savage, vicious eyes, as if her presence was an insult to him.

It was another person who remained conscious who said:

"...If you don't kill me, I will definitely kill you all...I won't leave a single one alive..."

He must have thought he was shouting loudly, his voice booming like thunder, but it was actually just a few indistinct whispers. A moment later, Raphael noticed he was dead.

His heart stopped beating abruptly, and he breathed his last.

There was another one muttering something, I couldn't tell if it was saying its own name, asking for food, or begging for forgiveness, as if that would be the only way to survive.

He mumbled incoherently as if he couldn't speak at all.

Others just groaned, saying nothing, as if they had no tongue. Then they quietly died on the floor.

No one knows their names, no one knows what they did in their lives, and no one cares what they did.

Not long after I left, the satellite phone started making noise again.

"I didn't expect to receive such a surprise."

The employer called Raphael this time and said:

“Some people said you weren’t suited to working in such an environment, but it turns out our decision was correct.”

The deliberately disguised electronic voice concealed the speaker's gender. Although we had done many mission briefings, this one-sided form of encrypted interference was really unpleasant.

"So, what's the current status of the investigation into the disappearance of Griffin's team?"