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

"Playing with fire every day, be careful you don't wet the bed at night." After saying that, she threw down a small sweet potato made of M67 fragments, put away her XM250 light machine gun, jumped over the railing and onto the square.

A loud explosion came from the information desk. She had already stood up and started firing a machine gun.

Shell casings tumbled out of the ejection port, pinning down the children who were playing with fire, making them too afraid to move.

Only when the two hundred ammunition belts were used up and the mall returned to silence did Castro shakily stand up from behind the marble counter.

But Raphael was already standing in front of him, the muzzle of his XM5 assault rifle pointed directly at his head.

Castro, filled with mixed emotions of joy and sorrow, thought to himself that he had finally seen the true face of the enemy...

“It’s time for you to get going,” Raphael said.

With his finger pressed the trigger, Castro looked up and then knelt on the ground.

There were about a dozen corpses lying haphazardly in the indoor plaza, with blood flowing more and more freely.

It was only then that Raphael came to her senses and finally remembered why she had entered the large shopping mall.

She needed to determine the radiation levels in the mall to help locate the liquid bomb.

In the end, nothing was done.

Raphael took out the counter, fiddled with the display screen for a while, and found that it was still unconscious with its eyes rolled back. He lowered his head and sighed.

It's still on strike, which is a bit disappointing.

The frequency of the radiation-induced pulses decreased, which directly reduced the frequency at which the amplifier and speakers were causing problems.

Raphael glanced back in the direction of the upstairs office area, lost in thought.

The bottle of whiskey that caused the Geiger counter to react so violently may very well be the key to unraveling the mystery.

Instead of rushing upstairs, she first disposed of all the weapons and projectiles from the corpses downstairs, and then shot each of them twice in the forehead to prevent them from reviving.

The ELID infection caused by the collapse radiation is no simple matter. If she hadn't used full-power 6.8mm bullets, she would have ended up like the Griffin recovery mission team.

After a while, Raphael stood back in the mall manager's office and picked up the bottle of high-quality whiskey.

The Geiger counter's horn immediately came to life, doing its utmost to warn its owner that the thing was dangerous.

Why is the radiation reaction so strong in the office area? Raphael looked up at the ceiling, but unfortunately…

Someone else came here before her and removed the ceiling panels that were blocking the view.

Perhaps something was hidden inside, and someone beat them to it and took it; perhaps there was nothing inside, and it was simply opened to check the situation.

That bottle of whiskey led to a somewhat weak conclusion: someone exposed to strong radiation had been there and left behind this bottle of whiskey, which had become a source of radiation.

Raphael scratched his head. Anything was possible, as he'd said. After all, there was no evidence to prove that the inferences drawn from whiskey were correct.

She documented the location and transmitted it to SHD's laptop terminal as a photo and explanatory text.

It's still functioning normally, and the protective measures seem quite good. She promptly gave the Homeland Strategy Bureau's procurement plan and its head a positive review.

At that moment, Raphael was standing on the road leading to Madison Square Garden, where a street sign read "W 31st St".

Although there were wrecked cars, damaged roadblocks, and orange warning signs scattered on the road, there was no body among the rubble.

The traffic stretched into the distance, cars, pickup trucks, buses, SUVs—anything that could drive on the road—completely blocking it.

She also saw a tractor and a concrete mixer truck overturned on the side of the road, and even a flatbed truck with only a large advertising billboard on it.

Personal belongings were hanging on it; someone had once climbed onto the truck, intending to use its momentum to leave this busy street.

The roadside was lined with all sorts of junk: drag-along suitcases, and high-end Sakura wood furniture. There was also a piano that had been smashed to pieces, as if it had been thrown directly off a truck.

There were also many vehicles that crashed into shops on the street, as well as cars that were parked safely on the side of the road, but most of their parts had been dismantled.

Some looked burned, and some were overturned.

The fire hydrant on the right sprays a large amount of tap water into the air like a fountain. If you weren't in such an environment, the gentle sound of the water droplets hitting the ground would be very refreshing.

On a hot summer day, children will surely play and laugh here.

But it was winter, and no firefighters would come to repair the fire hydrants in the city.

Raphael shook his head, avoiding the scattered water droplets, and continued walking towards the building marked by the detection satellite.

She took a deep breath and pushed open the iron gate in front of her. The creaking sound of the rusty metal startled her.

Raphael quickly looked around and found that he hadn't attracted the swaying blind men.

The map describes it as a garden, but it is actually a multi-functional indoor arena that hosts professional ice hockey, professional basketball, boxing, mixed martial arts, concerts, and other sports and entertainment events on an irregular basis.

Nearby are other landmarks in Midtown Manhattan, with the Empire State Building just two blocks to the west, and Macy's and Koreatown not far away in Herald Square.

Raphael lowered his weapon and cautiously approached the heavy cherry wood gate to the garden, trying not to make a sound.

While piles of abandoned items on the main street can certainly create a terrifying and desolate atmosphere, the "garden" that once served as a clinic is actually even more frightening.

Regardless of the scale of the competition, the indoor venue can accommodate nearly 20,000 people.

Even though the "garden" was temporarily requisitioned by the Disaster Emergency Management Agency as an open-air clinic for the Green Dollar virus, according to their published management manual, the patient capacity here fluctuated between 20% and 30% of the designed capacity, and about 6,000 patients were admitted here.

Crunch!

Something opened the door deep inside the "garden".

Raphael instinctively raised his gun, his pace naturally slowing down, like a kitten that had chosen its prey, tiptoeing towards the source of the sound, unhurried and deliberate.

Her recent life has been like this: whenever she enters a high-radiation area, she has to go and investigate any unusual noises.

It was inefficient, but there was nothing that could be done about it.

We did consider using human resources, but the collapse radiation could cause ELID radiation sickness, and there is currently no effective treatment for this disease.

This means that if humans receive radiation doses exceeding the limit, their lives will be predictable and their end will be near.

Book 1: The World Before the Great War: Chapter 42 Reporter's Diary (Seeking votes and support)

Prior to this, the former "Noble" squad, now known as "Hyper-Eyed Giants" and active in the White Zone of New York, had contacted them, indicating that they had recovered to their best condition and had received anti-radiation drugs from airdrop supplies, and were ready to be deployed as support forces to combat operations in the Dark Zone at any time.

Raphael rejected their request and instead, using DARPA authority, updated the orders for this "rebel" group, sending them all on their way.

Williamsburg Bridge, Captain Willis assisting the National Guard in deploying defenses at the bridgehead area.

As normal human beings, they are not qualified to get involved in the recycling program.

Instead of wasting the life you've been given a second chance at, you should make good use of it and do something more meaningful.

To prevent them from causing trouble, Raphael retrieved a deeply buried report from the Disaster Management Agency's online server that pointed to virologist Gordon Amherst, who lived in a cheap apartment in the Torrington area, as the source of the virus outbreak.

She told them that if they really wanted to help, they should try to investigate Gordon Amherst based on the report.

A sudden clang—the sound of metal colliding snapped Raphael out of her thoughts, and she looked in the direction of the sound.

The person who made the sound was right in front of them. He was tall and thin, with his arms hanging limply at his sides. He stood under the messy biohazard isolation tent, wearing a yellow leather coat that had turned black.

Raphael watched him from a distance, observing what the man was doing in the indoor sports arena of the garden.

This place should be the activity area for athletes and behind-the-scenes staff, but it is now filled with scattered medical waste.

If anyone accidentally falls, they're sure to get bitten by the glowing needle tip under the ultraviolet light, or cut by a scalpel.

In short, whoever exposes it is doomed. Who knows what those abandoned medical supplies were used for?

Raphael groped his way forward, the soft rustling of hard debris against the soles of his shoes becoming unusually jarring in the empty, quiet space.

The man suddenly turned around, his pale hair and bluish face appearing in Raphael's field of vision.

He opened his mouth as if to speak, but no sound came out of his throat.

Raphael knew that this was a severely infected ELID, whose remaining personality and rationality were trapped in hallucinations, and whose ability to think and judge had declined to the point of being almost non-existent.

She turned on her tactical flashlight, and the dim white light fell in front of him, making the ID photo clipped to his chest gleam under the light.

By any standard, this ELID patient was undoubtedly a very handsome man "before he died".

He has a muscular chest, strong arms, and his facial features in the photo also have a refreshing quality.

She might be a famous model, but her figure is more like that of an athlete.

However, the silver metal protruding from the skin distorted the facial features, only inspiring disgust.

"……lie……"

He walked toward Raphael, facing the light and speaking in a low voice.

“Who is lying?” Raphael asked.

"……lie……"

His wide eyes stared intently at Raphael, their gleam radiating ferocity. He raised his arms, and a high-pitched, piercing howl emanated from deep within his throat, a roar like that of a wild wolf.

Two muffled sounds pierced through the room, and then it was all over.

Raphael's movements were very smooth; he adjusted his aim and fired directly into Raphael's eyes.

Two armor-piercing rounds shattered the heavily reinforced skull, their warheads carrying countless fragments of broken bone that pulverized the fragile brain.

Raphael approached the corpse of the ELID infected, tapped it a couple more times, tilted his head, and thought, "A lie?"

Who is lying?

This is how severely infected individuals with ELID are: although their intelligence has faded and their bodies are decaying, their accumulated habits and obsessions will be manifested.

If the Garden Clinic truly committed crimes, it would surely leave some traces or evidence.

To understand the daily life of a public building, the best option is to visit the security monitoring room, where the equipment records everything in great detail.

Perhaps we'll soon learn about the clinic's past, Raphael thought, taking a deep breath.

Prying open the warped and twisted door, Raphael shrugged helplessly when he saw the equipment; it was all beyond saving.

Her gaze shifted, landing on the dusty logbook on the wall and the pen nib without its cap.

"They're all liars, everyone's turning a blind eye! God, please save us. They shamelessly lied, I saw that thing with my own eyes!"

Dr. Lewis and officials from the Emergency Management Agency held a press conference at the clinic this morning, firmly stating that the public need not panic and that there is no connection between the various incidents.

The green banknote virus only causes death and will not bring people back to life, etc., and they even dare to swear to God that they are not lying.

They also claimed that the "outlandish" cannibalism circulating among the citizens was completely unfounded, as it was a hallucinogenic effect caused by consuming large amounts of drugs.

Officials from the emergency management agency also supported Dr. Louis's statement, saying they would set aside a special space for addicts to protect other medical staff.

On my way back to my office north of 32nd Street from the press conference, I noticed that the already limited traffic, which was under control, had come to a standstill again due to the riot.