Eh? Do you also want to try the iron fist of the humanoid girl?

There were two more dry gunshots.

"Now they can't move."

"Check their ID. Bags, coats, everything."

Brooke hid behind the overturned bus.

"This is Tommy Winchester, his picture is on his driver's license."

"Hey-Winchester."

"Who's the other one?"

"He has nothing on him."

"Then search it! Apartment Building 15, don't waste time."

Shit, Apartment 15. Brooke was disappointed, thinking to himself, how could Tommy, this crap, end up like this?

"Boss, here's an access card for apartment 15."

"Nice, I'm going to make a fortune tonight."

The voice revealed great excitement and energy.

No matter how angry Brooke was, he had to hold it in and walk into the alley. What if the access card was damaged or fake?

He was unwilling to just turn around and search. These days, he didn't sit stupidly in the apartment, but recorded the situation of the nearby streets every day.

The police would come at first, but within two days, the sirens would no longer be heard.

FUCK, there's no use thinking about these things. Brooke used his hands and feet, trying to lower his voice as much as possible while listening attentively.

Things took a turn for the worst as he had expected. Several bad guys opened the security door of the apartment without hesitation and rushed in.

You don't need an access card to get out, you only need one to get in from the outside. The design that he once praised is now like shit in Brook's eyes.

——Give up safety for the sake of a sense of security.

The light of the flashlight flickered back and forth in the stairwell, and the clanging sound lingered in this upscale neighborhood, accompanied by ghostly howls.

At this time, Brooke had forgotten the original intention of going out and just wanted to find out what this group of thugs were going to do.

He had no idea what the gang was up to, but they seemed to be going door to door taking out the contents. There wasn't much in his apartment - it was all modern minimalism.

The focus is on the cans and water hidden in the cupboard.

Brooke was anxious, but her brain was still there and she knew to stay quiet.

There was another loud bang. "You are illegally trespassing and damaging private property." The alarm system of this shabby apartment actually worked. Brooke didn't know whether to laugh or cry.

This is so funny now. No police would come to deal with murder crimes.

boom!

After the dull sound of gunfire, the alarm fell silent.

It was all over. Brooke slowly backed away, intending to leave this place of trouble. Just near the garbage dump under the apartment building, he found that his legs were shaking and he had no strength at all, and he couldn't take a single step.

All I could do was lie on the snow and do nothing.

The voices became louder and some people whistled.

This is the excitement that the bad guys feel after getting food and property.

"Put a little gift on the door just in case," said the man startled by the alarm system.

"Does it make sense? Maybe the owner of the house is already dead!"

"Who knows...what if his friends come?"

"Ha! As if they could live that long. What if his neighbors come out and meddle?"

"Bullshit, isn't the neighbor already lying downstairs? It's none of your business."

"Okay, now that you said so." The second villain agreed.

Chapter 23: Savage Era

Brooke is very clear about his situation. He has no weapons to fight back, and he is not the kind of athlete who can run 5 miles every morning.

He is not the protagonist of a movie, and he does not have the ability to accurately find booby traps in a messy environment. If a movie protagonist were to do this, he would definitely observe the surroundings in a serious manner, then find the tripwire, dismantle it, and then throw grenades at the bad guys.

This is undoubtedly what an action movie protagonist would do, but Brooke does not live in a movie, nor is he an omnipotent movie protagonist.

So he lay on the ground until the area around the apartment was completely silent, as if everyone had turned into ghosts. Then he got up and staggered towards the street behind him.

When he returned to the main street, it was bustling here too.

Dragons of fire streaked across the night sky, randomly selecting and igniting trees, public facilities, shops on both sides of the road, and even other combustible objects.

There were gunshots everywhere. Windows were broken, and the doors of cars on the roadside were riddled with bullet holes, with a person lying next to them - his fate was sealed.

Soon the smell of blood... spread. Mottled splashes of red covered part of the windshield and even splashed onto the passenger window.

He forced himself to stay awake, suppressed his discomfort and fear, and tried hard to think about where to go.

what can we do about it?

Brooke looked around and suddenly saw the entrance to the underground parking lot diagonally opposite and the convoy of Hummers that appeared here before dark.

"Fight!"

It cannot be said how relaxing and pleasant the experience of crossing the road was. Just when he was halfway across the road, he heard crazy gunshots not far away, and even a bullet whizzed past him.

Brooke didn't realize he could run that fast, and he ended up hiding behind a burnt car, waiting for the nameless guys to finish what they were doing.

He crouched there for perhaps two hours, and then, after a burst of automatic fire—something that must have been more powerful than a heavy machine gun—when everything returned to dead silence, he poked his head out from behind the wrecked car, looked around and saw nothing, then sprinted into the parking lot.

He was lucky not to be shot dead on the spot by the armed soldiers on guard.

When he was arrested, Brook looked like a mentally ill patient in the eyes of the three soldiers on duty, jumping and cheering "I did it!"

"Asshole, what did you succeed in?" He only heard an angry roar, followed by a sharp pain in his forehead, and then he felt dizzy and fell to the ground unconscious.

……

In Danny's outer basement, the military computers, portable servers, radios and satellite communication equipment needed were all set up and looked quite professional.

Raphael walked towards him, and according to standard normal procedure, she reported to the head of the hideout that she, Raphael, a lone traveler with a special mission, needed to submit a statement before leaving the front-line field command post.

She was not very fond of this rule, but she knew its importance, because this record would tell the readers who left or entered the station at what time and for what reasons, so that readers could understand the whole picture of the operation based on time, people and events.

Danny looked at the command that appeared in the system, then looked at her and said hesitantly:

"Lieutenant, you should... It's really dangerous outside. The radiation zone is slowly expanding, just like a cracked sewage pipe that allows sewage to spread freely."

He glanced at the radiation dose statistics report in his hand and found that there was a clear gap between the levels yesterday and this morning.

God knows the radiation level in the quarantine zone. Danny doesn't know the exact data, but he can be sure that it is a life-restricted zone.

"My job is to find it and figure out why it happened this way," Raphael replied.

"……But?"

"It's okay. We all have our own tasks, don't we?"

She said that, and even Danny felt ashamed.

After a moment of silence, he tried to persuade her: "Don't you see what the situation is now? You have to complete your mission. What can you do alone?!"

"Aren't there many things we can do?" Raphael counted the bullets and didn't feel at all that it was dangerous to act alone.

The more skilled a person is, the more courageous he is. This is all there is to it.

"How is it?" A team member saw Raphael leaving and asked in a low voice: "Will he stay?"

Danny just shrugged and went to the temporary holding room to interrogate the citizens who broke in last night.

……

"Stand still!"

Oh? In less than a day, the number of thugs roaming the streets has increased significantly.

Who is it this time? Raphael took a breath and let the cold air close to the zero-degree line flow along the simulated esophagus into the abdomen to relieve the heat generated by the large amount of core calculations.

In the distance, a scavenger trying to cross the intersection screamed, "What are you doing?"

Raphael immediately lowered his body, using the vehicles and roadblocks set up by the Emergency Response Agency as cover, trying his best to avoid his weapon being noticed by these people, while trying to close the distance.

"Don't fucking cause any trouble!" The guy with the rifle immediately aimed his gun and shouted, "Come here!"

The scavenger cringed and slowly approached. There was nothing he could do, the robber had a gun, and he only had a pair of dirty winter gloves besides the crowbar he found while rummaging through the garbage.

One of them rushed forward and took away the scavenger's bag, searching it thoroughly. In addition to a bunch of useless sundries, there was also a stainless steel plate that fell to the ground with a clang, and the person who was searching the bag kicked it away like a ball.

"That's all? Let us check your pockets too!"

But there was nothing valuable in the pockets - these people were not interested in those things.

"You are fooling us! Hand over all the valuables!"

"But I don't have a penny."

Snapped!

The wooden butt of the AK hit the scavenger's head hard, "Ah..."

"Take off your clothes!"

The robbers' behavior is a bit like taking advantage of others. Even if it is a homeless beggar passing by, they want to squeeze money out of them.

"Where do you live, asshole?!"

"West 15th Street, Apartment 17."

The highwaymen exchanged glances, and the leader said, "Where?"

“Two subway stations away.”

"What good things can this poor guy have in his home? You, stand up!"

They kicked the thinly dressed scavenger hard, made him pick up the bag on the ground, and poked his back with a gun to force him to lead the way.

It's good that you cleared the way.

Rafael knew that these people were becoming a hidden danger. They were becoming bandits and had managed to get guns. They were preparing their forces, expanding their armaments, robbing apartments, and looting property...

New York now only looks like a modern metropolis, but its essence is rapidly moving towards the Wild West.

Based on Brooke's confession, Raphael gradually understood why citizens still stayed in the city on the eve of the blockade.

They followed orders from the CDC and the Agency for Emergency Management, and as the disaster expanded, Brooke looked forward to an organized battle against the plague.

After all, he believed what those in power said at the press conference, that those in power had an obligation to ensure the safety of citizens' lives.

But just as the bureaucrats immediately slunk away, the mistake left the entire city at the mercy of its fate.

After that, he couldn't figure out what was going on.

Some of the administratively divided quarantine zones were clearly functioning well, infections were under control, and armed vigilantes in green-striped uniforms were seen patrolling everywhere.

But one day, after a deafening explosion was heard from the direction of the Empire State Building, the patrolling armed personnel and the personnel distributing the necessities of life disappeared. Only their duty room and the sentry box blocking the intersection, as well as many abandoned weapons and heavy engineering equipment, remained.

Since then, he began to worry about his future life. Taking advantage of the opportunity that the Internet was not cut off, Brook managed to calculate the minimum standard food intake required daily based on his body size and weight.

If the situation worsens dramatically, he will have to stay alive according to the intake guidelines.

But plans cannot keep up with changes. Before it could reach that point, the thugs stole the neighbor's access card, ransacked his house, and left a trap.

Brooke found that he had lost the qualification to survive.

Raphael ignored the passerby who stumbled towards him and coughed bitterly. He might not be infected with the greenback virus, but he also had a high chance of not being able to survive this cruel winter.

She is not an omnipotent God and does not have that kind of false compassion.

Rather than being unintentionally kind, she would rather "let go of the desire to help others and respect their fate."

There were still hundreds of thousands of hungry and thirsty people in the city, willing to eat even a crumb of bread, wandering aimlessly in the streets and alleys, trying to find some rations and clean water from the looted stores.

Even at this point, there are still so many street bandits who are keen on violence.

They must be the kind of lunatics who take pleasure in the suffering of others.

At this moment, everything that Raphael recorded with his eyes did not make him come up with the conclusion passed down from generation to generation that the plague was useless and terrible, but a simple and clear disappointment in the human race.