The themes that can only appear in novels are, for Lister, what happened in reality.
From the initial shock to the current indifference, Liszt has also gone through twenty-three years, and he is no longer surprised.
However, after consulting a large amount of information, he discovered that this world without Asia is actually not much different from the world in his previous life.
But he is still quite surprised.
Perhaps his favorite game in his previous life, Call of Duty, also followed him into this world.
And compared to the simple game-playing mode in his previous life, this game system has actually become his most useless cheat in the past 23 years.
Squatting down on the sofa, he turned off the TV with only snowflakes left.
Liszt tightened his grip on the Winchester 1887 shotgun, with a helpless smile on his lips: "It seems that in this situation, How is it possible not to kill people?"
Looking at the brand-new shotgun in his hand, Liszt's eyes also had a complex look: "The ability that was not used on the battlefield is now used."
As a company commander of the Marine Corps, he also experienced several actual combats during the Mexican War, and the Call of Duty game system saved him in dangerous environments more than once.
Especially the most dangerous one, when he and a squad of troops were besieged by at least one company of guerrillas.
Thanks to the ammunition redeemed by the game system, he was able to hold on until reinforcements arrived.
Otherwise, the consequences would be disastrous.
But this exchange is not without cost.
Lister can only obtain points recognized by the Call of Duty system after killing the enemy.
And only this kind of points can be redeemed for resources in the game system, whether they are bullets and medical kits, various types of firearms, or even armed vehicles and living soldiers.
But killing the enemy also symbolizes the killing of a living being.
Even if you were a professional soldier in the past and present lives, you would not be ruthless enough to kill all the enemies on the battlefield.
And even Liszt now was almost court-martialed for killing prisoners on the battlefield.
Otherwise, with Liszt's military exploits in leading troops to defeat guerrillas many times and holding on to strategic points, he wouldn't have ended up working in a small auto repair shop to become the best auto mechanic after he retired.
You must know that compared to what he is now, his reputation in the army used to be that of the Butcher of Paradise, a well-known title.
"Butcher of Paradise, if I hadn't been cornered by those Mexican guerrillas, who would have been willing to shoot those prisoners in exchange for ammunition?
I'm not a cold-blooded executioner."
Thinking of his former title in the army, Liszt couldn't help but clenched his fists tightly.
But his face was still extremely calm.
He just spat hard to the side, shook his head and said calmly: "Sure enough, I have been out of the army for nearly a year, and now I am no longer at my peak."
With his self-disciplined will, Liszt can see his current state.
Not only did Liszt hit the target easily from 300 meters in the past, he also had excellent control over his own will.
For example, the behavior like spitting out words now seems to him to be a regression from the strong will he once had.
"Ding dong ding dong" The crisp ringing of the doorbell instantly interrupted Liszt's thoughts and made him stand up from his squatting position on the sofa.
The 1887 shotgun was already on his shoulder, and the black muzzle was already pointed at the door ahead.
Moving slowly, Liszt carefully avoided the front door of the room, while the black muzzle was always pointed at the door in front.
As long as there was any abnormal movement, it would have been filled into the Winchester 1887 shotgun.
The No. 12 smokeless shot will follow his finger on the trigger and blast the door three meters away like a sieve like a heavy rain.
"Mr.
Lister, we are military logistics stationed in this neighborhood, here to distribute today's food rations to you."
The doorbell rang several times, but Liszt's silence made the people waiting outside the door seem a little impatient, so they directly reached out and patted the door hard, making a bang-bang sound.
At the same time, a rough voice came through the door and said loudly: "Are you at home, Mr.
Lister?
If you are not at home, today's food ration will be cancelled."
"Military Logistics, thank you very much.
I once received this notice on TV."
After pondering for a few seconds, Liszt quickly walked behind the wall with light steps.
The solid and cold wall made his heart slightly more stable.
He had finally received information about food rationing on TV.
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After all, it was the highest level of martial law in the city.
If there was no food rationing, I am afraid that in the next few days, hungry citizens themselves would take to the streets to demonstrate or even riot. .
It's a pity that his security door doesn't have a viewing hole, otherwise he would be able to see who is outside.
Lister held the door handle with one hand and opened the door gently, but the Winchester 1887 shotgun in his hand was always tucked under his arm, and the black muzzle was always pointed at the door. at.
The seemingly solid security door couldn't stop the blast of a shotgun, and of course he knew that it couldn't stop the people who really wanted to get in either.
At least based on Liszt's experience in the Mexican battlefield, he could kick even an iron door into an arc.
As for the anti-theft doors made of iron sheet and fire-proof cotton in this kind of city, you can just kick out a hole with three feet.
As for resisting bullets or explosives, don't even think about it.
"Mr.
Lister, I have to say that you are really cautious."
The door slowly opened, and there were three fully armed soldiers standing outside.
The leader was holding a thick cardboard box in his hand.
Seeing that Liszt did not appear directly in front of the main door, he couldn't help but chuckled: " He is indeed the Butcher of Paradise who once made those Mexican guerrillas hate and fear him on the battlefield in Mexico.”
A faint aroma of food came from the carton, and Liszt finally let go of his uneasiness and walked out of the door.
He still held the Winchester 1887 shotgun in his hand and glanced at the three people outside the door.
The assault rifle on the soldier's back said casually as if unintentionally: "The safety is not engaged.
It seems that the scale of this riot is very large."
"Mr.
Lister, you don't need to know anything else.
Staying at home safely is the best choice now.
Of course, if necessary, someone from us will notify you."
The man handed the carton in his hand directly to Lister, looked at the original and ancient Winchester 1887 shotgun in his hand, and couldn't help but show a sarcastic smile on his face: "This kind of old guy who is more than a hundred years old , but it needs more maintenance.
It would be a real pity if it lacks one. ” "Thank you so much.
I have always taken good care of this thing.
No matter it is a cunning fox or a cowardly rabbit, it can only be solved with one shot."
Holding the cardboard box in his hand, Liszt scanned the soldier's rank without leaving any trace.
He was a second lieutenant.
But he looked up at the second lieutenant who still had a sarcastic smile on his face.
He also had a bright smile on his face, especially when he put the Winchester 1887 shotgun on his shoulder and said with a smile: "If not, Then give that beast another shot."
"Oh, that's great.
Mr.
Lister, I really hope that the Butcher of Paradise on the Mexican battlefield is still in your heart."
There was a cold snort in the nose, and the second lieutenant also had a half-smile expression on his face, especially looking at the bright smile on Liszt's face, he led the other two people directly downstairs.
Just when Liszt was about to close the door, he suddenly raised his head again, looked at Liszt and said slowly: "Because as a retired soldier, under this situation, Mr.
Liszt, you will be recruited at any time.
The troops continue to fight.”
Holding the door of his room, Liszt still didn't have much expression on his face.
He just looked at the second lieutenant and smiled slowly, without saying anything, and then closed the door with a clang.
But while he was holding the carton in place, he couldn't help but frown slightly and said: "It seems that things are really bad."
He had already prepared the worst in his mind, but now he found that it seemed that he had to continue to lower his level.
Slowly turning his head to look at the increasingly dense gray fog outside the window, his eyes involuntarily came to the corner of the room.
It was a map of the world.
The lack of Asia looked strange to him, but his eyes stayed on the top of the map and he just said slowly: "Soviet."
Four English symbols with a huge "C" appear above the map, from the fertile Ukrainian plains to the ice-covered Siberia, and finally extending to the Bering Strait.
The sickle and hammer are still held high in this world, and the five stars on the red flag are still flying.
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This is the Union of Soviet Socialist Republics, a country of the proletariat made of steel.
"Oil resources are almost exhausted, and the conflict between the Soviet Union and the United States has probably reached its peak."
Carrying the carton to the sofa, Lister looked at the carton containing the day's food.
He could smell the aroma of pizza and fried chicken without opening it.
But his head didn't work at all because of the food in front of him.
He just frowned tightly, looked at the map with deep eyes, and murmured to himself: "There won't really be a war, right?"
Liszt couldn't help but glance at the electronic clock on the wall next to him.
The date on it had reached September 26, 2059, which was a few years later than when he traveled through time.
But in this world where the demons of the Cold War are still whispering and laughing all the time, when he lives, he is not so relaxed and comfortable: