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

boom!

Interestingly, the shotgun in my hand doesn't require tedious reloading. As long as you change the magazine quickly enough, you can make it fire as fast as a slightly slower automatic hunting rifle.

It's fantastic to apply the magazine and automatic rifle mechanism to a shotgun.

He pulled the trigger again, bang bang bang bang bang! The muzzle bounced 10 times in a row, bullet after bullet flew towards the door, the spread bullets hit the window, shattering the glass and scattering it everywhere, some of it flying back and covering the floor.

Angelo couldn't help but laugh. The guy downstairs couldn't take it, hehehe.

He took the empty magazine out and put a new one in.

No matter who it is, anyone who wants to leave here must pay a toll. He caught a glimpse of a shadow moving inside the door, aimed again, and fired two more shots.

Angelo knew his shooting skills were at a low level—hit chances at mid-range were close to zero. But a shotgun perfectly compensated for his skill deficiencies.

But soon, he discovered something that terrified him.

A round thing flew out of the window; if I'm not mistaken, it was probably a hand grenade.

Only the survivor forces that have established a safe zone in the north possess this item...

Oh no, we're doomed.

Boom!

Angelo found that he couldn't hear anything, his whole body ached terribly, and his ears hurt, with a constant buzzing sound.

"That's the kid!"

"Kill him!"

He could only hear these two sentences, and then he couldn't hear anything else.

Newman Lawrence kicked away the Saiga-12 shotgun beside him. Didn't he remember that New York was a place with strict gun control?

Lately, all I've been encountering are either meticulously handcrafted flamethrowers from small workshops or fully automatic shotguns that can fire in rapid succession. It's really bizarre.

He touched the documents hidden in his pocket; now he could finally move on to the next step.

Volume 1: The World Before the Great War: Chapter 81 Cold-Hearted

The team returned with the evidence.

No one informed Raphael, but she could deduce the progress of the information verification from the changing attitudes of the officers and sergeants coming and going at the survivor army camp headquarters.

No matter how coincidental it may seem, the information and evidence presented to Billis and his colleagues are sufficient to prove her identity.

The most interesting aspect of the discussion about restoring the title "Rangers" is not its meaning—Raphael could understand some of it, but it wasn't particularly useful—but rather that the fact that it sparked a discussion proves there are two different voices within the survivor army.

The original Rangers naturally wanted to return to the chain of command; like many others, they had wives, children, parents, and friends outside of New York. However, many of those recruited and trained locally expressed the opposite sentiment, fearing that the restored orthodox survivor army would begin a purge.

After all, many of them have committed crimes that are enough to arouse public outrage, and it wouldn't be a problem to sentence them to hundreds of years in prison if they were taken to the outside world.

Given the jury's track record, they might just hand down a death sentence. They figured they weren't some rich bastard like Simpson, so their fear and dread were understandable.

Moreover, in New York, they have the power of life and death over others, and can kill whomever they want!

This kind of experience is something that can never be provided to them outside.

Although American police are incredibly incompetent and can only afford to cover up their crimes, they mostly intend to kill people when they search for and arrest them.

New York City today is a haven for criminals, a place of rampant, chaotic freedom, a paradise for people like them who are passionate about violence.

Raphael remained highly interested, observing the actions of Billis, the battalion headquarters, and their five subordinate companies, wanting to see how they would choose to proceed in the future.

If things remain unchanged for the time being, when the final "order" is to retreat, will they be abandoned, internally investigated and then executed, or will there be some other, more sinister arrangement, such as being sent as cannon fodder during the recovery period, or doing something else?

Raphael is now very curious and eager to know what they will choose.

Regardless, the choices Billis and the others ultimately have to make are none of her concern. Thinking about these things doesn't mean they'll give it a second thought before pulling the trigger, does it?

The sounds of battle gradually shifted upwards—whoever they were, the attackers were demonstrating their absolute superiority over the bandits.

Raphael stood in the back stairwell, quietly listening to the battle upstairs.

The surviving army set their sights on a commercial building outside the defense zone, which was occupied by bandits and had a huge radio antenna mounted on it.

Not only that, they also managed to repair the emergency generator set installed on the -2 floor. The statement that it would take time wasn't a lie; these things were genuinely needed.

Gunshots rang out incessantly behind the door on the 6th floor.

Crack! A cloud of dust, smoke, and other debris rose from the sky and fell. The guard beside her waved his hand, brushing away the dust that was falling from above.

"They're cleaning the room!" someone shouted from upstairs.

boom!

You call throwing a grenade through a door you're watching "clearing the room," huh? Raphael found it hard to believe, but the results were indeed impressive. Throwing a grenade into a nearly enclosed space was definitely the safest way to clear a room.

Amid the sounds of battle and Raphael's ringing ears, she heard more footsteps—something was going up the stairs on the other side.

"Shall we go up too?" Raphael's tone sounded like a question, but it was actually an unquestionable command.

She began to ascend the stairwell, holding onto her XM5 assault rifle, while two guards followed behind, reporting upwards and keeping pace with Raphael as they picked up their rifles.

Judging from the sound, those scattered and heavy footsteps were not the bandits and thugs who lived here, but rather infected people who were attracted by the sound.

It wasn't that she doubted the cleaning team's capabilities; she was worried about other problems arising. Contacting DARPA as soon as possible would allow the next step to begin faster.

On the walls and in the corners of the stairwell, the building manager had hung some odd and unusual modern paintings and sculptures. She thought it was a decorative choice made for aesthetic reasons, to make the building more competitive in the market.

In any case, these things have now become obstacles hindering their progress.

One step, then another, and then a head wearing a motorcycle helmet came into view. It must have been a robber who had narrowly escaped the sweep—he was wearing a winter coat made from scrap metal cut from a street vendor's clothes, and he was holding a shotgun with its barrel sawed off.

He carefully made his way upstairs, then stopped and listened intently to what was happening upstairs.

"You're out of luck," Raphael thought to himself.

The red dot in the center of the cross was already aimed at his head. In this vortex of shouts and gunshots, even the devil himself wouldn't be able to figure out what was happening.

In fact, this is what you will encounter when you go to the battlefield.

Those who can accurately judge the battle situation and gain the upper hand by taking advantage of the situation, all with just a map and a lot of real but incomplete information, are the geniuses on this path.

With a slight twitch of his finger, the moment the trigger was pulled, the man crouching in the blind spot of the stairs fell to the ground.

"Come with me."

The two guards' lips moved slightly, seeing Raphael about to...

As it disappeared, I lifted my toes and quickly followed after it with small, quick steps.

Don't underestimate this slow, deliberate gait; it's the best walking posture when carrying a gun.

Lifting your toes helps reduce vibration, acting like a track to absorb shocks, and when you stand up again to walk, you can avoid tripping over obstacles.

In this way, the body becomes a stable shooting platform.

The two of them stared in astonishment at the girl clearing the way ahead, who was using her own method to quell the chaos—killing all non-friendly units and rapidly reducing the intensity of the battle.

Sergeant Andy Carter was astonished to think that the naval lieutenant's actions seemed to make even the devil feel cold-blooded towards her.

Clearly, this visitor was not bound by any constraints, moral or otherwise. She was completely indifferent to the fate of anyone who might happen to be surviving in this building.

She tossed the rifle aside and pulled a black cylinder from her right hand. Someone with little military knowledge wouldn't need an explanation of what it was.

A few minutes ago, there was a noise in the building that was exactly the same as this.

That was an offensive grenade, and Raphael intended to throw it.

The thug occupying the upper stairwell noticed her movement, so without thinking, he stepped forward, leaned out most of his body, and then raised his Mauser rifle to try to aim.

boom!

The bullet flew out, hit the railing, bounced off, and crashed through the glass with a whoosh before disappearing into the distance.

Boom!

The sudden blast of air blasted the person out of the stairwell, where they crashed to the ground and twisted into a charred, reddish-brown unidentified object.

By the time he aimed, Raphael had already completed his throwing motion and returned to the inner side of the floor.

Book 1: The World Before the Great War: Chapter 82 Do I Look That Delicious?

The offensive grenade was quite powerful. Raphael stared at the charred corpse. The body appeared to have only burns on the face and exposed arms, but in reality, all the internal organs and brain matter had been shaken apart by the shockwave generated by the explosion of dozens of grams of explosives.

She gained a more tangible understanding of the difference between fragmentation grenades and offensive grenades.

Seriously speaking, if she were to fight the Rangers reconnaissance platoon in this building, she would definitely make a run for it and disengage as quickly as possible, rather than engaging in a prolonged entanglement.

Because the military has a very prominent characteristic: it is very united and emphasizes cooperation.

Going it alone is just showing off one's courage, but teamwork and laying a tight net can leave the target with nowhere to escape.

In addition, if the main force of the Rangers is behind, the armed reconnaissance squads sent out in front will launch a probing attack first. If the enemy does not resist fiercely, the main force will rush in and destroy the enemy's main force.

If encountering fierce resistance, switch to defense on the spot to hold off the opponent, buy time for the main force to deploy, and ascertain the enemy's troop strength and firepower.

Encountering an opponent who is organized and knows how to advance and retreat is a nightmare.

Judging from the professionalism of their training, they won't be like those characters in movies who just jump out with an M16 slung over their shoulder, their left hand outstretched as if embracing it, and their right hand on the trigger, firing wildly incoherently.

Instead, they would make the most of the experience gained from training and combat, crouching in a poorly lit blind spot, quietly holding their gun, aiming at his 2 o'clock or 10 o'clock position, waiting for their prey to come to them.

Raphael offered his blessings to the robbers who were putting up a stubborn resistance inside the building, wishing them good luck.

That being said, there is a method to escaping for your life. Scattering like a bomb will only lead to your death faster, but a reasonable and orderly retreat that makes it difficult for the enemy to advance is another art altogether.

She stopped and had the guards behind her contact the scouts who had reached the 7th floor, telling them that the communications team was about to come up the west stairwell and not to fire into the west emergency exit.

For most ordinary people, running up to join an ongoing gunfight is an incredibly foolish idea that they will regret for the rest of their lives.

"You two, can you watch the stairwell for me here?" she said as she checked the remaining bullets in the magazine.

"But the lieutenant colonel's orders to us were to wait, not to risk getting into the melee."

The soldier named Sean Clemons quickly said, "This is dangerous, and you are our ticket to the outside world. You absolutely cannot be harmed."

"I just need one answer: yes or no?"

“Fine, but if you die, you’re not allowed to become a vengeful ghost and bother us!” Clemons said, his neck flushed red.

A strange sense of misfortune gripped him; the girl before him might be an unprecedented and troublesome problem.

The two exchanged a glance, reluctantly knocked over the decorations and abandoned vending machines leaning against the wall, and then settled down to look after Raphael's back.

As Raphael slowly made his way forward, he discovered that the office area on the 7th floor was littered with corpses, many of which were half-decomposed, their ribs exposed to the air, their pale bones making the environment extremely eerie.