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

"The last two."

"Let's change it," Neri could only agree.

Vic led his men up and seamlessly took over the fighting at the door. His men split into two-man cover teams, while the rest, including himself, formed a fire support group capable of advancing.

The cover team worked together seamlessly, with the two men taking turns throwing grenades. Vic and his men charged in the instant the last grenade exploded.

On the other side, Raphael heard a deafening explosion ahead, along with the reverberation of shrapnel scattering through plaster walls and office furniture.

The two guards sent by Billis followed her well, staying at a slightly rear position as she instructed, maintaining a certain distance from her no matter how she advanced.

Being able to execute commands accurately is good enough.

They had all been exposed to war in one way or another, and although they couldn't fully understand the fighting patterns in the City That Never Sleeps, they all understood one thing—reckless words would lead to death.

This is the truth of the battle: to live, to live no matter what.

But the problem isn't about one person being enlightened while the other is cowardly; the problem lies in how one views this war, which belongs to both the individual and everyone.

The agents sent by the Strategic Homeland Security Agency firmly believed that the greenback smallpox virus could be cracked, and that by studying it relentlessly, it would expose its weaknesses.

The agents thought this way and put it into practice; perhaps the truth was right beside them.

The survivor army is completely different; they are fighting for survival. The agents, on the other hand, want to save the situation, so they need to be thrown into the battle.

Undoubtedly, due to differences in their views and styles of doing things, the two sides gradually went from being partners fighting side by side to becoming enemies who wished they could kill each other.

In Raphael's view, the possibility of winning over New York agents was very low, because she couldn't offer enough...

Vic John frantically patted the small flames off his clothes, gasping for breath as he pressed his PTT (a popular Taiwanese online forum) button and said, "Damn it, you guys almost killed us."

"Sorry, didn't I tell you to draw attention by the door?"

Raphael's voice was self-righteous, showing no intention of reflecting on his actions. Instead, he began to blame the intruding C team.

"This is our job."

"Oh, then please pay attention, I'm at your 3 o'clock position, don't get it wrong."

Raphael twisted her waist and turned her upper body, aiming at the hooded black man crouching at her 9 o'clock position. With three quick "puff puff puff" sounds, the man shuddered and slumped limply onto the table.

"Damn it, you almost hit us! You're the one who's mistaken!"

"Oh, that's a problem with the bullets, it has nothing to do with me, hehe."

She heard someone cursing through her earphones, and then he said bad things about Raphael, but she didn't care anymore.

By this time, the communications team leader had fully emerged from behind the rioters' lines, entering a state of close-quarters combat. The rioters occupying the area finally realized who had ambushed them, and the firefight intensified.

Volume 1: The World Before the Great War: Chapter 85 Landmines

The way things unfolded was so unexpected, yet so in line with the normal course of events.

No matter how the thugs caught in the middle resisted, they all eventually became victims of Raphael's gun.

“Clear everything out, it’s safe here now.” After she finished speaking, she turned around and squatted down next to a corpse, reaching out to roll up the deceased’s sleeve.

The familiar tattoo design covered his entire arm, and even the back of his neck.

She didn't know what to say about the Kex gang. Despite being desperately short of living resources, they still managed to develop a tattoo business, which was quite ingenious.

Raphael discovered that many members of the Lex gang had tattoos of varying sizes, and these individuals were often the leaders of this urban gang.

"You're from the communications team, right?"

Raphael looked up and saw a red-faced man with white eyebrows wearing a helmet standing beside him, saying, "You did a great job."

She couldn't bring herself to hit someone who was smiling, so she could only explain that this would help the reconnaissance platoon whose attack was stalled, and that since the robbers' attention was focused on the east side of the stairwell, the risk of them sneaking in from the west side was not high.

"Anyway, thank you," he said, while half-pushing back the trigger to check the chambered bullets. "From now on, just follow behind us; it'll be safer that way."

This arrangement was fine and even pleased the two little tails. She thanked them and then retreated to the very back of the Qinglou troops.

There are more than ten office floors like this, and at the current pace, it looks like they won't finish until tonight. Lieutenant Colonel Billis's order was very clear: they must occupy this building.

To meet communication needs, the survivor army expanded its controlled area outward for the first time since it began to consolidate its defenses.

Such a drastic move was enough to raise the alarm among all parties in the city that never sleeps, and the most vehement reaction came from the agents representing the side of justice.

However, Billis will handle these matters; if he can't control the situation, there's no point in trying to win him over. In other words, Raphael will choose to take action, obtain the mapping map, and leave, leading the Hundred-Eyed Giant squad alone to complete the retrieval.

The journey was uneventful, with fighting and killing taking place above, and logistics soldiers occasionally running up to replenish supplies for the reconnaissance platoon clearing the building.

In the basement, technicians were monitoring the generator's operation, while other mechanically skilled technicians were checking the elevator.

If possible, they plan to repair one of them and then transport the communication equipment up.

This was not only to help Rafael contact the Department of Defense, but also to help them rebuild contact with Ranger Command and Army Special Operations Command, and seek help from superiors and friends.

At the very least, you need to know why you should give them up.

Raphael objected, but only Major Noah Stanley supported her opinion—after all, he was an outsider; everyone else chose to support Billis, even the battalion sergeant.

Don't you want to think about why you can't get in touch? Two months ago, radio communication wasn't so bad; she could connect directly to DARPA's communication satellites even when she was in the quarantine zone.

The infected quarantine zone back then is what is now called the "Dark Zone," and there was only one possibility that the Rangers could not contact the mission command center, so the mission commander decided to cut off their communication.

Whether it's voluntary or forced, this is an extremely obvious signal.

Perhaps by this time, the new 75th Regiment Ranger 2nd Battalion has already been established and is training in full swing.

Everyone had guessed this possibility, and apart from the major who clearly expressed a different opinion, the others still held onto hope.

Maybe they'll have a change of heart?

Raphael felt that their liking for scum was a little too high, but she didn't say much. Instead, she wanted to see what the other side's reaction and actions would be after the contact was established.

There was a bit of a "just watching for fun" mentality involved.

She wouldn't mind using some resources to fuel the fire in this matter.

One is the 800-man legion they discarded as trash, and the other is a brand new 800-man legion that is being formed. This should be able to cause quite a political earthquake, right?

Given the location and circumstances this unit faces, it should be a humiliating experience for many.

Raphael began to wonder what would happen.

“Don’t you like the lieutenant colonel’s decision?” Vic John said.

"Yes, the landmines planted two months ago will detonate after you establish contact with your superiors. It might not be that soon, but..."

"It will have a serious impact on your future decisions, won't it?" Vic keenly grasped Raphael's thoughts. She smiled slightly and extended her hand to Raphael. "Vic John."

Vic was indeed a talkative man. He fired off questions like a lively sparrow, extracting all the information about the world outside the blockade from Raphael.

He stared intently at the girl through the lenses of his tactical glasses, his gaze full of goodwill, as if to say, "Hey, hey, can you tell me something interesting?"

When it was his turn to speak, he would always first touch the M4A1 in his hand, then pull out the magazine to check the pre-loaded bullets, and before putting it back in, he would carefully check the ejection port.

This delay made Raphael reluctant to answer his question, and his reply was particularly brief and to the point, simply stating that some unexpected things had happened since the day the incident occurred in New York.

Vic quickly realized that the other party intended to keep quiet, so he stopped asking Raphael questions and began to talk about himself.

He said he had been enlisted in the army for almost 5 years and had accumulated enough promotion points before coming here. He was about to be promoted to sergeant when he was deployed to this unfortunate place.

"So what are you thinking about now? This place is hell on earth!" Raphael asked, thinking to herself, she wasn't a professional psychologist and had no interest in solving other people's troubles.

“To be honest, I hope I can leave smoothly.” Vic seemed oblivious to the sarcasm in Raphael’s question, or perhaps he simply didn’t want to. “Everyone seems to be blinded by the possibility of leaving, intentionally or unintentionally ignoring the word ‘possible,’ and of course, there are some more general thoughts.”

"So what's your opinion?" Raphael asked.

"How should I answer you, Lieutenant?"

Vic checked his tactical vest, pulled out the minimap and examined it closely, his gaze almost as if he were looking at the future.

"Many soldiers and officers my age who are still alive have their own families and lives outside. Returning to normalcy is the most normal choice, but as you said... there are many unknown secrets, like landmines, ready to explode at any time."

Volume 1: The World Before the Great War: Chapter 86 Winning Hearts and Minds

Vic felt a deep sense of desolation, unsure of what the future held.

He recalled with resentment a short story he had read two years ago, a diary-style tale about surviving in the city. The book stated:

"You can't stop all bad things, but you can stop one thing: being caught completely off guard by a sudden event."

This might sound a bit cynical, but in a post-apocalyptic world, most people would die within the first week, or the first month when city systems begin to collapse; there wouldn't be enough tombstones to mark them all.

As a soldier in the 2nd Ranger Battalion, Vic had no opportunity to prepare. All the supplies he needed for survival depended on the logistical support of the "army" organization.

The Ranger's ordeal needs no further description; those terrible experiences had already given him enough. The reason he hasn't broken down yet is quite simple: the Rangers organization still exists, and he still wants to return to his family alive.

These thoughts flashed through his mind, but he said nothing, only sighed.

The book also said: "Look, with water, you won't die of thirst; with food, you won't starve; with blankets and houses to stay in, you won't freeze to death; with hydrogen peroxide, you can prevent fatal infections."

The information it records is only useful for general apocalypses. In apocalyptic environments like collapsed and contaminated zones, the survival knowledge it provides is of little use.

"Are you unhappy?" Raphael asked attentively upon hearing the sigh.

“What… could anything be wrong with me!” Vic replied insincerely. “But just knowing I’m still alive is enough…”

He felt that the short, chestnut-haired girl behind him was trustworthy, and waved sadly.

“Is just being alive enough?” Raphael said, even lightly nudging Vic’s elbow with the butt of his MOE rifle, as if to comfort him.

"It's not enough to just be alive; we should complete our mission, make those who abandoned us pay the price, and ultimately achieve a reversal of the situation."

"Things couldn't get any worse. The green-banknote smallpox virus killed a small portion of the city's population, and the collapse radiation wiped out the original recovery team... It's okay, we've hit rock bottom. We can't go any lower, no matter how humiliating it gets."

“So now is the time to turn things around!” Vic blurted out. He didn’t notice, or had stopped noticing, the change in address.

“Yes, or to be more precise, mostly yes,” Raphael agreed, as if he hadn’t noticed, or was simply pretending not to notice the other’s emotions, “but right now, a lot of things are going according to a terrible script…”

"What are they after?" Vic wondered, somewhat dissatisfied.

He was searching for comfort deep down, but he resisted the temptation and was unwilling to readily believe in anything that could offer him solace.

“Yes,” Raphael said after a moment of silence, “some people have talked big and exaggerated things, including overestimating our pre-mission preparations—which is now clear.”

However, this doesn't mean we should go to the other extreme and underestimate our potential because of the initial setbacks. We have enormous potential, which we ourselves haven't truly realized yet, let alone me as an outsider.

I say this with full confidence because I understand the problem.

"Why underestimate the mission if we're deploying an entire combat battalion and a Tier-1 squad together?" Vic said. "Does any of us want to underestimate? It's just... it's just..."

"Is it just that they couldn't get a sufficient supply of anti-ELID drugs?"

Raphael chuckled inappropriately, producing the anti-ELID solution allocated to a small elite force. She looked at Vic and his men and said: