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

Raphael observed the stiffened corpses as she spoke to the man who answered her slowly and laboriously from time to time.

These people were emaciated, with red sarcomas clearly distributed on their faces, arms, and exposed legs. Crystals were present in many places on their skin, which were likely the result of suppuration and insufficient warmth.

Their deaths were pitiful, yet also evoked a sense of alienation born of fear. Those afflicted with illness were no longer ordinary people.

Raphael noticed that she was actually feeling sad, and then he felt an urgent desire to do something immediately.

To restore them to normal human form?

It's impossible; this is the result of "rational" calculations, and for these deceased individuals, there's already nothing that can be done.

She noticed that Clyde was wearing a cross with Christ around his neck, and said:

Do you need me to offer you a final prayer?

“…You?” Kleist hesitated for a long time before moving his head slightly.

Raphael recited the prayer as recorded in the documents:

"Our Lady of Grace, God be with you. Blessed are you among women, and blessed is your Son Jesus. Holy Mary, pray now and at the hour of our death for us sinners. Amen."

She thought for a moment, then added:

"Our blessed Mother, pray that this poor man dies."

A look of satisfaction crossed Kleist's scarred face as he mumbled something incoherently, but Raphael couldn't understand him. His remaining life was rapidly slipping away, and he no longer had the strength to say anything more.

He mumbled it again, but she still didn't understand. Raphael was surprised to see a tear roll from his eye; she hadn't expected him to have tears. She had thought he had nothing left.

"It's time to leave."

She told herself that she couldn't waste any more time.

Not only do they need to investigate what's going on near the Empire State Building, but they also need to go to Wall Street to find out what the Rangers and the unidentified special forces are up to.

Maybe it's just a smokescreen to protect Wall Street's assets? That's unrealistic; the truly important things should have been properly handled during the evacuation.

There was no point in speculating here, so Raphael stopped the calculation process, took a breath of cold air that was filled with a lot of virus-laden aerosols, and forcibly cooled down the computing core.

The green banknote virus entered the human body, but it couldn't do anything to the simulated internal organs, repeatedly asking: What the hell is this place? Why is all the super infectious power I gained through all that effort and so many "modification surgeries" useless?!

Raphael had no idea about the mystery of the virus, nor did he want to know.

After leaving the patient treatment room at the Washington Park morgue, she took one last look inside before turning and walking toward the other end of the gate.

The park's log records that it buried more than 3200 patients' bodies, but the reception area set up in the nearby underground parking lot kept sending in the dead, and eventually there were not enough bags to hold the bodies.

The worker responsible for digging the pit died inside the excavator on the morning of the 7th while working due to illness.

Since then, the burial work has largely come to a standstill, but open-air clinics and hospitals continue to send bodies here.

Finally, Kleist decided to lay the patient on the floor to save space. Since it was the dead of winter and heavy snow was expected, this method of buying time was harmless.

Once reinforcements arrive, they will be able to bury the dead at their leisure.

Clearly, he didn't receive the planned cure or vaccine; instead, he and his men all perished in the burial ground.

She stepped outside, the sunlight making her squint. Raphael looked down at her hands, which were covered in pus. Touching any random water pipe could kill hundreds, even tens of thousands.

Using "the Hand of Death" to describe it is perfectly fine, but there's a sense of shame—it's normal to feel ashamed of the name that comes up.

Right?

Raphael grabbed a handful of snow from the ground, rubbed it on his hands, and washed away the pus.

She doesn't yet have the idea of ​​transforming into a plague or natural disaster, at least not now. The future is uncertain, because she can't predict what she will become in the future.

Book 1: The World Before the Great War: Chapter 11 Street Gangs

Before leaving, Raphael roughly counted the number of bodies lying in the open at the park burial site, which was about 500 to 600.

If a drug cannot be developed in a short period of time, the most effective way is to cut off the source of infection: gather all the infected people together and wait for them to die.

Judging from the situation in New York, the actions of the New York State and federal governments seem negligible. No, to say they did nothing would be insulting, but their efforts were entirely focused on establishing lockdowns and handling the bodies.

Thinking about these things was a downer, so Raphael shut down his train of thought and turned his attention to Fifth Avenue.

This section of road is a vital north-south artery in Manhattan's road traffic system.

It stretches from Washington Square Park in the south to 138th Street in the north. Because Fifth Avenue is located in the heart of Manhattan, east-west streets in Manhattan are sometimes referred to as east or west using this street as a boundary.

Fifth Avenue boasts numerous attractions, including the Empire State Building, the New York Public Library, Rockefeller Center, St. Patrick's Cathedral, and Central Park, running from south to north.

In addition, Central Park is known as "Museum Drive" because it is near famous art museums such as the Metropolitan Museum of Art, the Whitney Museum of Art, the Solomon Guggenheim Museum, and the Cooper Hewitt Museum of Design.

However, her purpose in coming here was neither a picnic nor to immerse herself in art. Raphael's purpose was always very clear: to look around the Empire State Building.

The famous shops on both sides of the avenue had long been looted. Even though the shops were in ruins and their facilities had been stripped of their contents, people could still be seen scavenging inside.

She had barely stepped onto the main street when she witnessed two groups of shoplifters locked in a fierce firefight. She even saw one of the thugs charging relentlessly at the enemy, wielding a homemade wooden shield in one hand and a baseball bat in the other.

Police can be seen occasionally, but their efforts here are insufficient.

After dodging the gunfight zone four times, the frail humanoid appearance caught the attention of the street thugs. Driven by lust, the thugs, twirling their weapons, approached with an air of predatory gleam.

"Get out of here!" she shouted sternly.

"Sweetheart, you're so pretty. How about we become friends? Friends who can get along really well?"

He stared intently at Raphael, admiring her appearance, her eyes, and her arrogant, scolding tone—she was truly a beauty.

A month ago, Bill Noyce might have had some reservations, but in the current situation, all he wanted was to pin someone down and have his fun.

Women and guns are never the problem; even if she's armed, she's unlikely to be very aggressive. Besides, he's not alone; he has several close friends with the same idea. Healthy women are rare; if he doesn't get them now, it'll be even harder later.

The gang that escaped from prison are frantically seizing territory and the city's limited resources. If I could use this woman to make contact with them, I might be able to gain a decent reputation.

Neuss twirled his pistol and walked up, shaking his head, trying to grab the standard rifle tucked in the other man's arms.

Raphael, his face contorted with rage, slammed the butt of his rifle into the lustful passerby. And this strange stench clinging to the man suggested he might be a poisonous insect.

Noyce felt humiliated, but putting aside the pain in his hand, he was filled with inexplicable anger and lunged at her, trying to slap her with his left hand while reaching for the sharp knife tucked under his vest's left armpit with his right.

However, no fight broke out.

Raphael steadied himself, swung his left arm as if clearing away something in his way, and shoved the thug who had lunged at him aside.

Noyce staggered back a few steps and crouched on the ground, where several other thugs were already armed and on guard. He waved to his companions, signaling that he would personally capture the woman.

In his view, the fact that the other party did not take advantage of the situation when she had the upper hand shows that she is indeed the kind of girl who is "obedient, well-behaved, and hardworking in her studies".

“I’m Bill Noyce, from the South City…” Noyce said as he introduced himself and his gang, pulling a gleaming knife from his vest.

His companions, who had been wary at first, relaxed and stared at the two of them. The oldest of them, who looked somewhat like a peasant with dark skin and a gray beard, froze when he saw Raphael's face.

The others were also eyeing the opportunity, hoping to get a share of the spoils.

“They’re all laymen,” Raphael muttered. “Humans are so hard to understand.”

"Why are you speaking so softly? Speak louder so everyone can have a laugh, right? Ah, everyone."

Someone whistled, urging Noyce to hurry up and teach this aggressive woman a lesson.

"I think... you should just die."

As soon as he finished speaking, Raphael raised his gun.

In Noyce's world, suddenly, the sand-colored XM5 rifle appeared before his eyes, and then a tiny flash of fire disappeared.

In the very first instant, all that could be uttered was, "—uh?"

Surprised and incredulous, Noyce clutched his stomach and slowly knelt down, looking up at the woman who had propped him up and was using him as cover with a bewildered and confused gaze.

Raphael's mind registered the threat and activated the reaction program, but by then those men had already raised their guns.

Observe, locate, decide, execute; as the rioter lowered his head and pulled the bolt, her assault rifle was already aimed.

She saw the muzzle flash and heard the thugs' pistols explode, but felt no pain or signs of being hit.

The crosshair was very stable. The index finger pressed down three times in a row, and three bullets flew toward the body.

Two 6.8mm bullets entered the thug's chest, and a third bullet struck the outstretched hand holding the pistol, severing two fingers before tumbling into his throat and neck, finally exiting through the back of his neck with a pile of debris.

Raphael twisted his waist, pointing the gun, kicking away the corpse lying on top of him while taking small steps back. He gripped the handguard from the side with his front hand, pressing his thumb on top of the handguard to form a stable holding position, and had already aimed at the enemy holding a civilian AK at medium range.

The XM5 whispered two words to him.

The moment her gaze met the scene before her, two bullets left marks on the gunman's face, and the force of the impact pulled him to the ground, covered in blood.

Aim, fire, aim, fire—Raphael was like a combine harvester, ruthlessly reaping the lives of street thugs. A minute later, she would scan the area again in a 360-degree arc, looking for and dealing with any other threats.

There was nothing there. She turned her attention to the corpse of the man who called himself "Noyce," who was no longer breathing.

Raphael knelt on one knee beside him

He pointed the XM5's muzzle at the sky.

She rolled up the long sleeve of the corpse's arm, only to find it covered in a jumble of tattoos, layer upon layer, making it impossible to discern any features, let alone analyze or compare them.

……

"The counterattack was swift and decisive, the attack ruthless and swift; this wasn't the work of a civilian weapons enthusiast, and that gun..."

The man lowered his binoculars, turned his head, and said, "ISAC, activate the pulse, mark the threat unit."

A moment later, the synthetic voice replied: "Take threat: 01".

PS: The first wave is finally out!

Book 1: The World Before the Great War: Chapter 12 Unfriendly Contact

"?"

The instant the electromagnetic scanning pulse swept across his body, Raphael suddenly stood up and hid in a side alley.

The ECM electronic countermeasures system was constantly sending her warnings, while simultaneously activating the deception jamming (DECM) system.

The system records microwave signals and then processes them using a digital radio frequency storage subsystem (DRFM), modifying their amplitude, frequency, and phase to generate a wide range of interference signals.

The processed signal is retrieved, phase-quantized by a digital converter simulator, and then the jamming signal is transmitted back to the enemy. Ultimately, it appears as a false target with a constant rate of change of range on the enemy's detection radar.

In summary, digital radio frequency storage systems are a fundamental means of deceptive jamming. Range gate pulling diverts the radar's range tracking gate from the real target's range position by inputting a false target signal into the radar range tracking circuit.

The repeater jammer amplifies the radar signal and then relays it back.

Because the transmitted jamming signal is stronger than the radar wave, the relayed deceptive jamming signal hijacks the radar range tracking circuit, thereby forcing the radar to enter a target reacquisition state.