Invasion of the United States

Deep in the night, lost in a deep sleep.

A piercing phone ringing suddenly jolted Dias awake. He frowned, reaching out in the dark, finally grabbing the phone by the bedside.

The cold glow of the screen lit up his face, displaying an unfamiliar number.

He glanced at his side; his wife mumbled something discontentedly, turned over, and continued to sleep.

Dias lifted the blanket, gently got out of bed, walked into the bathroom, and only after closing the door did he answer the call, impatiently saying, "Hello, this is Steve Norm."

The other end of the line emitted a strange noise, like a blocked throat, producing intermittent sobs and gasps.

The sound was both painful and desperate, as if someone was struggling on the brink of death.

Dias' brow furrowed, realizing something was wrong. He lowered his voice and tentatively asked, "Who are you?"

A cheerful yet mocking voice came from the other side: "Mr. Norm, who do you think would call you at three in the morning? It's not likely to be an angel, right?"

Dias' pupils suddenly contracted, and his facial muscles slightly twitched. He immediately recognized the voice—it was Victor.

He closed his eyes slightly, quickly contemplating countermeasures, and after a moment squeezed out a sentence: "Congratulations, Victor. My men… how many are left?"

It was Zhou Qingfeng calling, and he replied indifferently, "None, all dead by my hand. It's not your men's fault; they tried."

At the moment, Zhou Qingfeng was standing next to a black SUV, the body riddled with bullet holes and the window glass shattered into a web. The phone came from the driver's seat 'Cleaner.'

The last 'Cleaner' originally controlled a drone, over a hundred meters away from the secluded villa.

The man thought he had enough time for a safe retreat, but never expected the target to dash out of the darkness like a cheetah along the road.

At that moment, Zhou Qingfeng's speed was astonishing, breaking the sprint world record. He closed the distance to the black SUV in just seven or eight seconds.

The SUV's reversing speed was too slow, and the vehicle was not bulletproof.

When the M4's muzzle spat fire from twenty or thirty meters away, bullets rained down.

The car window glass was instantly pierced with seven or eight bullet holes, and the 'Cleaner' in the driver's seat was hit multiple times, the most fatal bullet tearing through his carotid artery.

Blood gushed out, staining the seat and the steering wheel.

The 'Cleaner', even after being shot, still tried to administer first aid to himself, but to no avail; death loomed beside him, gazing coldly. Note: Check M_VLEMPY_R for any corrections.

Zhou Qingfeng looked down at the 'Cleaner's' gradually lifeless face, his tone icy: "Mr. Norm, your idea was good, but the execution was far from perfect."

Dias remained silent for a moment, then let out a low sigh, "Victor, you've won this round. I'll send someone to clean up the mess."

"But I have a question; you injected yourself with the 'X' project's enhancer, didn't you?

I understand your motive for giving the project's data to 'Dongda,' but why would you dare to inject yourself?

Your success rate is lower than winning at roulette."

Zhou Qingfeng let out a light laugh, "That's my secret, can't just tell you. You should think about how to deal with Hammer's and my counterattack."

Though externally unyielding, Dias responded in a deep voice, "Think about it? No need. I've already got a contingency plan for your counterattack.

It's nothing more than leveraging Hammer's connections and your money to sway the wavering elements within 'Tree of Justice' to cause me trouble.

Just a reminder, I'm a senior intelligence analyst at the Department of Homeland Security; I can even mobilize satellites in space. With just these tricks, you won't beat me."

Zhou Qingfeng fell silent for a moment, then replied, "There's a big move coming; even satellites won't help."

The call ended, and Dias sat on the toilet in the bathroom, speechless for a long time.

After a while, footsteps sounded outside the bathroom. His wife got up and opened the door, asking in surprise, "Steve, is something wrong?"

Dias nodded lightly, "Yes, a little trouble, a target escaped. But it's fine, I have plenty of resources to make up for it."

His wife, somewhat reassured, advised him to continue sleeping until dawn.

Dias, however, shook his head, casually threw on a coat, walked to the home office, and sat behind the desk, deep in thought.

Losing six 'Cleaners' was no small matter. Even if it was a trap, it meant they encountered a strong opponent.

If Dias wanted to deal with Zhou Qingfeng again, deploying personnel would be a big challenge—he had to file a report to request, not just deploy people willy-nilly.

If it was just a young foreign kid, as long as he stayed within the United States, it wouldn't be hard to deal with.

But Old Hammer was a hundred times more threatening than Zhou Qingfeng. The two of them colluding—one with connections and relationships, the other with money and action, gave Dias a headache.

"Seems like I need to make some compromises, quickly mobilize those few monsters in the military to solve the problem."

-----------------

Time passed by quickly, two or three weeks, the world remained peaceful.

People soon forgot the two governors who died in Florida and no longer remembered the 'Holy Light' CEO's escape. But 'Electric Flight' continued its low-altitude economic dominance.

Marco wore a Chinese-style suit, walking out of the United States Capitol. Outside the building, a bunch of reporters with 'long guns and short cannons' aimed at him, incessantly asking questions.

"Mr. Max, what are your thoughts on this congressional hearing?"