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The third day, a battle between scarecrow's communists and killer croc's African Americans erupted in the paper factory. The scarecrow had turned the city's abandoned factories into a labyrinth of fear, his red sun toxins seeping into the air and corrupting the minds of those who dared enter. The communists, driven by a desire for control, had become a formidable force under his command. Their faces hidden behind gas masks made by the chinese communist party, dressed in people's liberation army uniforms, they marched with a cold precision that sent shivers down the spines of the watching city.
