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

The crew was very cautious; as they flew close to the city, they regularly released chaff and flares. This was regardless of whether there were any air-to-air weapons on the ground.

Anyway, let's just throw it out first.

This is valuable experience gained by the crew from the battlefield.

Two transport planes dropped a large amount of supplies near Hudson Yards. Has the federal government decided to increase its investment in the Joint Task Force (JTF)? Or do they have other plans?

After a cursory review of the information sent by his employer, Raphael concluded that whether it was special agents, rangers, or the JTF joint operations force, they were all merely pawns on a chessboard, manipulated at will.

"Damn it, go eat shit," she thought.

As for the residents of New York and here? They are merely the basic elements that make up the chessboard. Without them, nothing can be done, and without them, no one can join the game.

Therefore, the city that never sleeps needs to be locked down, including Manhattan, Queens, the Bronx, and Staten Island.

What should she do next? She thought, of course, was to find the bombs and assess whether the liquid slug bombs were ready to be moved.

If he can't be transferred, Raphael plans to jump into the river.

Set aside your desire to help others and respect their fate.

P.S.: arranging the bowls (QAQ)

Volume 1: The World Before the Great War: Chapter 38 The Geiger Counter Solemnly Announces: Let's Go! (Seeking Votes and Support)

The televisions hanging high in the department store were still running, but the advertisements were only aimed at ordinary people living outside the lockdown zone in New York. A lonely broadcast drifted through the square, amplifying the feeling of isolation.

Those advertisements remind people struggling in the city in countless ways that they are abandoned, unwanted, and of no use to the world, and that they cannot leave even if they want to.

"Then why listen to the ads?" Renzo Parker, a scavenger, asked himself angrily.

Fuck the JTF Joint Task Force, fuck the Purifiers, let them fight each other—after all, it's theoretically possible—and then New York will be completely finished.

A perfectly sealed Coca-Cola bottle. Well, I've got something to show for today.

Parker was overjoyed and carefully put away the canned soda drinks; his livelihood for the next few days was secured.

Although the packaging may be contaminated with deadly viruses, the guys who keep buying these things don't care at all, which shows that they have the means to remove the virus contaminants.

He really wanted to have that kind of technology so he could learn from these people and set up trading markets everywhere.

A little thought will reveal that disinfection technology is merely the entry-level requirement for establishing a black market. The real foundation that allows black market merchants to secure a place in the steel jungle is their overwhelming military power, which prevents others from taking action against them.

After filling his backpack with drinks, Parker thought it was time to leave this godforsaken place. He reached for the doorknob and turned it, facing the dark corridor, but seeing the emptiness inside, he pulled his foot back.

That inexplicable force that kept trying to penetrate him was warning him against making any rash moves. Something disharmonious was waiting somewhere outside for its prey to walk into its trap.

"Lord, please bless your people," Parker thought to himself, stepping back out of the small, garbage-filled workspace. This must be the office of some mall manager, which explained why he ended up with a dozen drinks.

If, hypothetically, those madmen who kill indiscriminately with flames were to come, hiding in the workshop would only make them easy prey.

Only by keeping moving can one fight their way out of the chaos.

After weighing the pros and cons, Parker returned to the dark corridor. The echo of his shoes hitting the floor, the silence, sounded eerily quiet in the hallway.

A cool breeze blew in his face, and he took a deep breath, eagerly anticipating the breeze; his spirits were already rising…

It looks like I'll be able to leave soon.

Suddenly, a loud bang erupted in the distance. In the chaos, Parker heard a sharp, piercing whistling sound, followed by a sensation as if he had been hit by something, causing him to involuntarily take two steps back.

He felt the pain and turned halfway around. At that moment, another bullet grazed past him, hit the wall, and made a loud bang.

Who is it? Is this the end of my life? Parker sized up the enemy in the distance.

The madman who vowed to burn everything was faintly visible on the edge of his vision.

There was a time when he realized that life was different. Before the greenback virus arrived, he had also had happy days.

After many days of living in a state of despair, he could no longer recall the details of his happy times.

Hunger surged through his mind like a tidal wave, and even the pain rose like a tide, but he longed to eat something. But no, it wasn't time to eat yet; his daily rations were fixed.

If he consumes without restraint and according to plan, he will fall into a predicament of food shortage in the future and eventually starve to death.

Heavy breathing and the purifier's heavy footsteps rose and fell, complementing each other and finally dispelling the deathly silence that had gathered in the corridor.

"Are you going to kill me?" Parker clutched his stomach, sitting motionless on the ground, experiencing the final sensations of life.

“You need to be purified,” the tall, muscular man, whose entire head was covered by a gas mask, said in a deep voice. “The flames will set you free, Amen.”

puff...

A column of fire erupted from the gun barrel, completely engulfing the scavenger who was utterly unconcerned about human protection.

There's no need to pity these people; they don't even understand why this place is sealed off. If they want to survive, head north along Sixth Avenue. If they can get past the soldiers' checkpoint, they'll find shelter and food.

So why not go?

The Purifiers did not hinder these ordinary people seeking refuge; on the contrary, they were quite cooperative with the northern soldiers' retrieval operations.

From the perspective of the Purifiers, gathering the scavengers who were like rats, hiding and scurrying about, actually stopped the continued spread of the virus.

Why not lend them a hand?

It was just a small favor, and besides, both sides had reached some consensus on certain matters concerning the city.

Often, the Purifiers' mechanics would also help the northern army repair propaganda equipment and power lines. They would also send instructor teams to provide basic combat training and hazardous materials handling training to the Purifiers' combat personnel.

More important reasons are the radiation hazards and the increasing frequency of mutants and mutant organisms appearing recently.

Without external assistance, the two sides had no choice but to cooperate.

As for the Lex Luthor gang, they're a bunch of violent idiots whose brains have been ruined; nobody wants to step into their underground headquarters. Anyone who sees a group of headless corpses hanging in mid-air would feel a pang of unease.

On the other side of the mall, Raphael followed the map and slowly made his way here, standing under the neon-lit mall sign, gazing into the open, dark space.

Outside, there is a clear blue sea and sky.

The sky was a clear, deep blue, with a few white clouds drifting across the horizon as embellishments.

This was the first time she had seen such a clear blue sky since arriving in New York in December.

"Should I go in?" she asked herself.

After a few days of silence, Geiger, the "mother-raised" counter, burst forth with unprecedented energy. Ever since Raphael approached, it immediately turned into a noisy rascal, creaking and groaning incessantly.

Raphael took the counter out of his waist and found that its eyes (the display screen) had already rolled back and it was unconscious.

No matter how it was adjusted, it couldn't recover.

However, the amplifier speaker, with its simpler structure, steadfastly held its position, tirelessly emitting noise to remind its owner that this place was extremely dangerous.

The consumer products don't seem to be good enough; I need to pick one.

A counter with better physical fitness, she thought.

However, as things stand, as long as the loudspeaker can still emit sound to remind her that she is still in the radiation zone, that's sufficient. The intensity of the radiation from the collapse can be roughly determined based on the frequency.

It's inefficient, but it's a choice we have to make.

Raphael did nothing else for the past two days but walked around the streets of the blockade zone, checking the readings of the Geiger counters, recording them, and compiling them.

This was a slow process, but as the data became more abundant, she gained a basic understanding of the radiation levels in the area.

Although the actual level is not high, prolonged exposure can still cause serious harm to the human body.

If the accumulated dose is large enough, a person can easily develop ELID radiation sickness.

Book 1: The World Before the Great War: Chapter 39 An Orderly Departure (Seeking votes and support)

It was very dark inside the mall.

The power should have been cut off, but sparks were still flying from the broken cable, suggesting that someone had turned the switch back on.

But it doesn't matter, since she's not human. In the dim light, the faint glimmer of light coming through the window was enough for her to find her way forward.

Turn right at the landmark, and you'll find the mall's office area, where you generally won't find anything interesting. Because of the high turnover of people there, no one puts anything that would easily attract attention.

As for the managers' offices, staff were constantly coming and going, and no one had time to settle down without everyone knowing.

However, Raphael felt that such deductions were meaningless; what if there really was some ingenious plan?

Standing at the door of the general manager's office, she coldly surveyed everything. It was as if everyone who remained in the city had been here, searching the place from top to bottom.

If the people who come here are looking for documents, it probably looks like someone who couldn't find what they needed and is so angry that they're taking it out on every little thing to make up for their loss.

Open safes, drawers scattered on the floor, security doors hanging on hinges—all of this suggests that these offices were not hastily abandoned, but rather completely emptied as if on fire.

Yes, these are highly consistent with Raphael's predictions.

Despite the haste, all assets were evacuated in an orderly manner.

She quickly searched the office, but apart from a few packs of cigarettes and rolls of paper scattered around, Raphael only found a bottle of unopened XO whiskey.

However, this thing seemed to be inedible, and as she held the bottle in her hand, the Geiger counter's cries became even more shrill.

That's all.

The other managers' offices weren't much different from the first office, maybe just a little less cluttered.

She also found several boxes of chocolates, some unopened bottles of brandy, and two cans of craft beer. Besides these, all that was left was a pile of useless junk. On a coat rack, Raphael found a shoulder bag containing a notebook.

It looks brand new, but pressing the power button has no effect; it's already broken.

It's not that we look down on civilian equipment, but in this harsh radiation environment, many military-grade devices would roll their eyes and lose consciousness if placed here.

I left the office area smoothly, and judging from all the shops I passed, they all seemed to have been hastily abandoned. This suggests that the people here had been evacuated, possibly in a reasonable and organized manner.

So, where were the New York police back then? That's an interesting question.

Therefore, the shop was clearly looted when there was no police presence. Each time Raphael lifted a heavy object, it stirred up clouds of dust, indicating that the shop had been abandoned for an excessively long time.

Even the footprints left by scavengers were covered with fresh dust.

In other words, the New York City government was more concerned with maintaining stability and order at the time. That is to say, the mall's management team was already implementing evacuation procedures before the chaos and lockdown began.

Given the size of the shopping mall, even under the most favorable circumstances, it would take at least several days to clear out the clutter.

Given this situation, the shopping mall's operating company chose the only way to survive.

Those shops that chose to install iron bars and explosion-proof wooden boards fared much worse; most of them were ransacked and looted.

The mall was deserted, with only the howling of the wind as it whistled through the holes.

But something was wrong. Many of the protected shops were looted, but one shop remained completely undamaged when it was wide open.

At least, in her view, it hadn't been disturbed. It didn't look abandoned either—something was clearly wrong.