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

The distant sounds of gunfire continued. Raphael noticed that everyone in the Hundred-Eyed Giant squad was looking at her expectantly, but she still sat down and "thought" for 15 minutes.

After the minute hand had moved a full 15 divisions, she said, "That's enough, I'm going to reach out to them."

A few minutes later, the group left the apartment.

Book 1: The World Before the Great War: Chapter 73 Full of Mysteries

Several mangled corpses lay on the road, which was pointed at by an automated turret. The closest corpse was clearly visible even from a distance—half of her head had been blown to pieces.

Beside her lay a shotgun, a classic Remington M870 shotgun, its polished walnut forend and stock standing out starkly against the snow.

This thing is supposed to be standard issue for the police, but it doesn't seem to have helped its owner much...

"This is troublesome. Those are automated artillery emplacements provided by the Strategic Homeland Security Agency to the New York Agents' Forward Base. How did they end up in their hands?" Cecilia put down her binoculars, shrank back out of the window, and quickly crawled away from the room facing the street using all four limbs.

She's not some super robot from the Terminator movies; no infantryman would want to test the power of her 30mm MK44 Viper chain gun.

This thing is particularly well-suited for anti-personnel, anti-light armor, anti-obstacle and bunker, and destroying small targets.

In any case, within 1000 meters, basic shells can penetrate 20 mm of armor, so penetrating thin brick walls is not difficult for it.

The two autonomous turrets are arranged in a staggered pattern, covering a distance of approximately 500 meters in front of the firing arc. If manually operated from behind, the accompanying optical lenses and fire control computer could likely cover a distance of up to 2000 meters in front of the firing arc.

A head-on confrontation would be the worst option, and they didn't come here to die.

5人挑战800人可不现实，游骑兵一个营有57名军官和744名士兵，即便幸存者军队在12月和1月的战斗中承受了伤亡，

But the remaining people were enough to overwhelm the Hundred-Eyed Giants squad and Raphael.

It must be said that Lieutenant Colonel Charles Bliss is very capable. He can unite hundreds of people under his banner and still maintain a tough style of strict discipline. His personal ability and prestige are indeed very formidable.

Moreover, feeding several hundred people is no small matter. The survivor army also provided shelter to a large number of refugees, and the fact that no riots broke out is enough to prove his skill.

“...It seems that direct contact is impossible,” Raphael replied.

"Then find their patrol team."

“Good idea,” Alki said. “Then let’s go back.”

But Raphael had only walked back a short distance when, after half a kilometer, she was stopped by six soldiers in snow camouflage uniforms.

The leader had a fierce look on his face, and an M4A1 with a CQBR indoor close-combat receiver was slung across his chest. The soldiers on either side of him were holding the same M4A1, ready to fire.

"Halt! Who goes there?" the sergeant shouted at the top of his lungs.

He didn't rush to fire. The woman standing opposite him didn't show any obvious desire to fight; perhaps she was an SHD agent who couldn't take it anymore and came to surrender.

Raphael replied that she was a naval officer stranded in New York, looking for her people, and that she needed help.

Are you all alone?

Raphael said there was indeed only one person. But for some reason... She didn't know why either, as if she had done something wrong. The lead soldier seemed to be getting angrier and angrier.

"You claim to be from the Navy, but why are you carrying an XM5 that the Army is only just starting to equip?! You ugly liar!"

These two sentences "enraged" Raphael, who immediately flew into a rage. After hacking into the survivor army's radio channels, she directly stated her officer's identification number and then contacted Lieutenant Colonel Charles Bliss.

“Hey, Captain,” the Ranger standing behind said, handing a phone to Sergeant Newman Lawrence, “the Lieutenant Colonel is online.”

Lawrence fell silent, and as he picked up the phone, the fat on his face twitched viciously.

"...Yes, they came to us on their own initiative...I understand."

When he put down the phone and turned to face Raphael, the muscles in the corners of his eyes twitched twice.

“Go another 100 meters, there’s a subway station there, just go straight to the very end!” he said to Raphael, his face grim, as if to emphasize that he hadn’t done anything wrong—he was just following orders and not letting any armed people go.

"Barnard!" he shouted to the team behind him, "Take her to see the lieutenant colonel!"

Barnard's soldier ran over, and Lawrence waved his hand, saying to the others, "Let's go!"

After parting ways with the patrol squad of the survivor army, Raphael and the soldier called "Barnard" walked one after the other. The soles of their shoes pressed their weight onto the snow-covered ground, making a crunching sound as they passed.

She noticed that the survivor army had deployed many positions on both sides of the road, the most deadly of which were two M2HB heavy machine guns positioned on high ground, with their muzzles pointed at the road, which was about 300 meters long and had no bends.

This setup is ruthless; it's even more terrifying than the two Viper machine gun positions on the other side of the main street. Given enough ammunition, they could completely blockade the entire street.

Two soldiers sat with their legs outstretched next to the machine gun position. Beside them were a pile of grenades and ammunition boxes, as well as sandbags filled with soil from the green belt.

After passing the outer checkpoints of the survivor army, Raphael walked into the subway station under the sharp gazes of others. Inside, boxes of ammunition and neatly arranged assault rifles were laid out on the open ground, and two officers were checking the quantity of equipment with handwritten notes.

Next to it was a communications radio that had been removed from a vehicle. An officer was issuing orders, albeit haltingly, forcing a patrol squad to proceed to the battle zone.

Another officer wearing an ACH helmet sat cross-legged on the ground, repeatedly speaking into a wired telephone:

"Please answer, please answer, please answer..."

Communication conditions in the Dark Zone are indeed terrible. In cases like this, repeated calls either indicate that the user has left the maximum communication range or has failed in the mission.

“Damn it,” he slammed down the microphone, stood up, and asked Barnard, who was standing next to Raphael, “Who is she?”

Before Barnard could answer, the man squinted at the newcomer and said again:

"I am the company commander of B Company. Who are you?" He stitched all his words back together, compressing them into a single, disjointed question.

Although he claimed to be the company commander of B Company, he didn't look like a company commander at all.

The burly man wore a dirty camouflage uniform with a hole in his waist. His left wrist and fingers were wrapped in bandages covered with black blood clots, and he had an M4A1 rifle with a CQBR indoor close-combat receiver hanging on his chest.

His face hadn't been shaved in a long time; he was so tired that his face was dark and his eyes were frighteningly red, as if they were on fire.

“I am…” Barnard was the first to speak, but his attire was enough to tell who he was.

“Your situation is clear. Please wait over there,” the company commander interrupted him with a wave of his hand. “Your captain sent you, right?”

Barnard nodded.

"Show me your identification!" The company commander took a step toward Raphael.

"Please show me your identification as well!" Raphael held up his officer's ID and explained the whole story of his stay in New York.

“I am at my unit’s base and am not obligated to show identification.”

After reviewing the documents, he returned them to Raphael, his tone and attitude noticeably changed, but he still snorted, "Even if everything is as you say, why didn't you contact me sooner?"

Book 1: The World Before the Great War: Chapter 74 Remaining Calm

After the patrol team asked similar questions on the highway, Raphael explained that it was an accident.

She tirelessly recounted how she was stranded in the City That Never Sleeps, how she obtained the equipment, and how she came to the Central District to save people and survive, only to be locked down there.

However, to his surprise, the company commander did not seem to believe that what had happened was a misunderstanding at all.

On the contrary, that's exactly what he thinks:

"The question is, how did you survive? By scavenging like a scavenger? ...Nonsense! Ordinary naval officers don't receive urban survival training!"

After speaking for a while, the company commander felt a little better. He waved to the stunned soldier beside him and began to speak calmly, "You will follow me later, and we will fight together! I will arrange for someone to take this coward to see the lieutenant colonel."

“But…” Barnard looked at the rough stitches and dark red marks on Raphael’s calf and stammered, “She is injured in the leg.”

"Wounded?" the company commander asked, his eyes filled with suspicion. He wanted Raphael to take off his clothes so he could see his wounds.

“It’s already been treated; it’s a minor injury,” Raphael replied.

The company commander looked at Raphael in surprise, then tried to say something, but a faint call came from the phone, so he picked it up.

"Yes, Battalion Commander! One team has already been dispatched along the old route, and the second team is ready. Where to send them? I'll write it down right away."

He reached into his clothes, took out a map folded into four sections, searched for a while, found a spot, and made a clear mark with his fingernail.

"Yes, I'm ready."

Pull

Fell knew he was referring to the highly effective machine gun positions set up along the highway.

"Just in case, we've prepared a large number of M67 grenades; we won't let them escape!"

The company commander fell silent and listened with a blissful expression for a full minute.

“Understood, Lieutenant Colonel,” he finally said. “Completely understood, we’re just in the right place…”

He wanted to say something, but obviously, the other end of the line interrupted him. "Yes, end the call!" he said awkwardly. "I'm done."

He placed the microphone on the radio, stood up, and tapped Raphael, his expression suggesting that he could say something to please this "colleague" who had gone to such lengths to reach out.

Indeed, he said something that was the only thing that could make Raphael happy at the moment.

"The lieutenant colonel said that he expects ELID cases to flood the highway defenses today. It will be a busy day, but he should be able to find time to see you."

“Those people who lose their minds are called ELID infected?” Raphael said “surprised.” “No wonder pistols can’t hit them; we still have to use this.” She patted the assault rifle in her hand.

“XM5, indeed very good.” The captain said, extending his hand to introduce himself: “Karl Jacob, Ranger Captain. However, we are now called the Survivor Army.”

“Call me Raphael,” Raphael asked. “So, Captain, when can I see the lieutenant colonel?”

“Let’s wait until after the battle,” Carl Jacob said, waving his hand. “You know, it’s irresponsible to everyone to host outsiders during a battle.”

Looking at Raphael, whose face was pale from "excessive blood loss," he added, "Do you need any help? Since you're injured, I'll find you a place to rest."

“Raphael, Raphael…” Captain Jacob suddenly remembered and said, “Your home is in New York?”

"Yes."

"A graduate of Annapolis?" he continued.

Raphael also gave his approval, and even shared stories about his classmates and some interesting anecdotes. This kind of background check, disguised as a friendly acquaintance, was far too simplistic for her.

No matter what Jacob wanted to ask, Raphael could always give him the truthful information he wanted.

Her life and internship experiences at the military academy were all real, but these experiences and interesting stories came from other people and had nothing to do with her personally.

If one had to put it bluntly, Raphael used archival materials to construct a completely new "person" who had never appeared in the world before, even though "her" experiences were exceptionally rich.

If needed, Jacob also coincidentally found "her" transcript and graduation message.

Given that the unit had been completely abandoned, Raphael was certain that they were neither able to verify her claims nor had the energy or time to do so.

“That’s really…” Jacob smiled and continued, “So where did you get your weapons? Don’t tell me the National Guard in New York State was issued these two weapons.”

"They came from JTF's leftover supply boxes in the fashion area. It took me a lot of effort to get them."

The girl placed her hands on the table and lowered her head over them, carefully recalling (or fabricating) the events of that day.

Too much detail won't work, or Jacob will think it's a story made up on the spot; too little detail will arouse his curiosity, and ultimately the more you say, the more logical loopholes there will be.

“You should rest,” Captain Jacob suggested. “Just lie down on my sofa. I’m leaving soon and won’t be back until tonight. After the battle, I’ll take you to see the lieutenant colonel, and then I’ll wake you up.”