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

Raphael noted down the shop's location and began planning her route. Her curiosity was irrepressible; she simply wanted to see why the shop was so well-preserved.

Suddenly, from afar, muffled footsteps drifted by.

"Aren't there other people in this building?" Raphael wondered. "Aren't they afraid of the radiation?" It was hard to believe.

Raphael stopped and then felt the floor vibrate.

—The sound came from below, from a completely different floor!

Oh? I'm not the only one visiting here, she realized. She still wanted to find out the secret of that shop; perhaps someone had released the collapse fluid here.

Curiosity, or rather, the desire for novelty, still exists.

Raphael blinked and blinked again, and before her patience ran out, she made her decision.

In such a severely radiation-stricken environment, the only things that can move are enemies wearing protective gear and ELID infected individuals who have withstood the mutation but not completely.

Anyone who dares to block the way or obstruct the way shall be killed!

Raphael pulled out the magazine from her assault rifle and examined it—6.8mm bullets would be her most reliable companion. She raised the gun, moved slowly and stealthily, and crept forward down the corridor.

Her heart began to pound. Raphael knew she had to stay calm, then felt something was off; the simulated emotions seemed to be spiraling out of control. She realized that a gunfight was very likely to break out.

A strange premonition, but I don't know why.

She walked cautiously forward along the corridor.

……

The rustling sounds didn't escape the notice of the tall man patrolling downstairs. He too stopped and looked up, staring at the ceiling.

The sound is unique; only those who have worn a tactical vest can understand it. Various metal objects sway with the movement of the human body, eventually producing a subtle yet crisp metallic clanging sound.

Yuri Castro raised his left hand and clenched it into a fist.

The Purifiers behind them, also wearing gas masks and holding weapons, stopped in their tracks.

People are hard to see, especially when they don't want to be seen. Yuri listened carefully, finding himself increasingly trusting his ears rather than his eyes.

On the other hand, hearing is not absolutely reliable.

Silent ambushes do not exist, and conversely, silent actions do not exist either.

Apart from the scavengers who scurry around like rats—the only ones who make a lot of unnecessary noise, scratching an itch or burping—even the veterans make other noises.

……

The sounds downstairs ceased, and Raphael knew her footsteps had been detected, so she immediately fell silent. She noted the location of her previous footsteps and turned to run in the opposite direction.

Hearing the commotion, the people downstairs dispersed immediately. The empty mall was filled with the clatter of footsteps and heavy breathing.

sound.

Meanwhile, Raphael chose a good spot on the second floor, with his gun pointed directly at the gathering point of people on the first floor.

If they intend to come up, besides this half of the escalator, there is only the upward passageway that is blocked by clutter and difficult to walk through.

Volume 1: The World Before the Great War: Chapter 40 Purification

The mobile target practice session has begun.

Raphael was an excellent marksman and machine gunner. When she appeared in the right position at the right time, she could exert terrifying suppression and killing power.

Boom, boom, boom...

"The footsteps are heavy," Raphael thought. She took the opportunity before the firing began to survey all the shops shrouded in darkness.

……

Yuri Castro walked at the front, slowly making his way forward through the messy corridor.

Further ahead is a small indoor plaza, which is a very attractive and tricky sniping position.

He looked around and chose the middle-aged coworker he had spoken to before entering the mall.

Castro thought that this man, who was not young, had sideburns, and was calm, must have been a daring hunter in the past, and would certainly be very agile in the complex environment of the business world.

“Konyukov,” he called out.

"Konyukov is here!" The person whose name was called suddenly appeared and shouted in his ear.

“Pick a clever one,” Castro said to the Russian, “and go up through the back staff entrance…”

The two chatted for a while, then decisively split into an attack team, intending to launch a strong attack on the mysterious intruder from two directions.

A few minutes later, light footsteps sounded overhead, and Castro immediately led his men to continue their advance.

Although he had an overwhelming numerical advantage, there was an irreparable height and distance difference between him and the intruders.

The indoor plaza looked small, but the only shelter was the dark information desk in the center at the front.

Before launching the attack, Yuri Castro wanted to say something, but his lips moved slightly and no sound came out.

What can you say to them? Tell them to charge? This is a fact they know and must face.

Are you telling them they're not afraid of death? They're just as afraid of death as he is anyway.

Is it really that important to tell them that the unclean people are to be burned?

But if this is not so important, would people walk into the darkness and face uncertainty and death right now?

Of course, this is absolutely necessary.

So he didn't say a word, but quickly and silently hugged his companions and then pushed them to the side and back.

However, his actions displeased Carl Vincent, so Vincent bypassed Castro, who was heavily armored, carrying fuel canisters, and wielding a flamethrower.

Now is not the time for anyone to take care of anyone else; it is a critical moment when everyone must work together to break through the enemy's blockade.

Vincent thought of those annoying secret agents who always had to fight off those bugs for a long time.

This is terrible. He thinks these people know nothing and only know how to act according to their own belief in justice.

Burning the unclean is necessary, especially in the dark zone.

Those mutated humans, rotting and disfigured, couldn't be killed with guns; they could only be ignited with napalm and flames.

Only when they are burned to ashes will the mutants calm down.

A minute later, the two groups set off in perfect unison. Castro silently walked another thirty or forty steps down the corridor, holding his breath in excitement, as if afraid the enemy would hear him.

Before he had even stepped out of the corridor, he pulled the trigger, sending a fiery dragon hurtling towards the second floor.

As soon as the firelight suddenly shone, Castro's right-hand men rushed out of the corridor and then scattered to both sides.

The two-person team upstairs also opened fire, firing wildly in a chaotic barrage.

Castro then gripped the jetpack and charged forward.

The weapons upstairs made a series of clanging sounds, and the battle immediately intensified after the two sides clashed.

Castro noticed a sudden whistling sound in the air above him, which made a strange thought flash through his mind: he wondered if the bullets might collide several times in mid-air.

From now on, lifespan will be measured in seconds...

As he continued to spew flames, he glanced sideways at his Purifier companions, who were spread out to the side, only to see a scene that made his eyes widen in horror.

As Karen Maslow was about to throw the improvised incendiary bomb, her body suddenly convulsed, and she knelt on the ground.

The incendiary grenade that he failed to throw crashed to the ground, and a burst of flames instantly engulfed him.

Clang...

He heard the sound of a heavy object hitting the ground with extreme sensitivity. Just as he was about to say something to his fellow Purifier workers in the distance, a violent explosion erupted in the center of the indoor plaza.

Shrapnel flying everywhere shattered one of the few intact panes of glass at the central information desk, creating a loud crash.

Immediately afterwards, a wail of pain, "Waaaaah—!" came from the right side.

Gunshots and grenade explosions rang out in turn, with one explosion occurring very close by.

Castro knew he had to move forward, at least to the center of the indoor plaza, or his flames would be a joke to the enemy.

There's nothing we can do about it; the flamethrower was entirely handmade by ordinary people, and the fact that it's at its current level already brings immense honor to the engineers who created it.

In addition, the fuel injection pressure is limited, and the maximum range will not exceed 15 yards (13 meters), while military flamethrowers can easily exceed 55 yards (50 meters).

If he had that range, Castro would bet he could burn any coward hiding upstairs shooting in the dark.

However, they lacked the technology, so the situation inevitably became awkward.

Because of the lateral deployment, they were unable to organize sufficient firepower to suppress the enemy.

The flamethrower operators, who were supposed to be the main attackers, were unable to perform their duties due to the limitations of their weapons.

This is precisely why their breakthrough failed.

Castro struggled forward, but tripped and fell, hitting his knee painfully. A moment later, when he got up, he grabbed something that was standing in front of him.

He finally reached the center of the indoor plaza. He only needed to walk a little further to spread the flames to the floor directly opposite.

The information desk, which could have served as a temporary shelter, suddenly became an obstacle.

Staying here is undoubtedly terrifying, but having to walk ten yards through the information desk amidst a hail of bullets is even more terrifying.

People don't want to separate from their protective gear when they are attacked, and Castro was no exception.

He hid behind the precious cover, unable to bring himself to go forward.

Castro tried to stand up several times, but was forced to lie back down by the bursts of gunfire.

Compared to when he first arrived at the information desk, every time he stood up, he lay down closer to the tiled floor than before.

"That's absolutely outrageous," he thought.

The whooshing sound was accompanied by a series of scattered noises, the sound of bullets hitting the ground and shattering the tiles.

The almost incessant gunfire convinced Castro that the enemy had set up a belt-fed light machine gun upstairs.

Book 1: The World Before the Great War: Chapter 41 Nuclear Liquor

At this moment, Rafael fired another short shot, and...

The purification fanatics who tried to rush over from the right were riddled with bullets.

Immediately turn your attention to the heavily armed flamethrower soldier huddled at the information desk, eager to get started.

Whether the flamethrower reinforcements are ghosts or demons, by the time they arrive, the fools who played with fire will surely be dead.