Invasion of the United States

The situation was utterly dire. Zhou Qingfeng could almost hear his own heartbeat, thundering like a drum in his chest, reverberating through his ears.

Who could have imagined that two FBI agents would end up killing each other when they had the situation under control?

This absurd scenario seemed like it was ripped straight from a cheesy action movie. Yet, it was unfolding right before his eyes, with no warning or logic to it.

Survival instinct kicked in, and Zhou Qingfeng reacted swiftly. He instinctively dashed into the nearest kitchen, moving like a startled cat, agile and quick.

However, the kitchen was open-plan with a broad space, offering little in terms of hiding spots.

Zhou Qingfeng leaned his back against the countertop, his chest heaving, breathing so heavy it was as if he had just run a marathon.

He clutched a kitchen knife that Julia used for chopping vegetables. The blade shimmered coldly under the LED light overhead. It was the only weapon he could grab.

At the other end of the kitchen, the FBI agent was approaching step by step. His footsteps were heavy and slow, like a death countdown. ChapterprovidedviaM|V|L@EMPYR.

Zhou Qingfeng could feel his back soaked with cold sweat, his clothes clinging to his skin in a sticky, discomforting way.

His mind raced, trying to find a glimmer of hope in this desperate situation.

"Come out, don't make me play cat and mouse with you." The agent's voice was low and icy.

"Otherwise, I'll shoot your legs first. The higher-ups just need you alive, they don't care if you have a few more holes in you."

Zhou Qingfeng did not respond. His gaze swept quickly across every corner of the kitchen, finally fixing on the LED light on the ceiling.

It was a bright yet soft, pure white light source of several dozen watts, providing the only illumination for the seven- or eight-square-meter kitchen.

In a flash, a bold but feasible escape plan formed in his mind.

There was no time to hesitate or ponder the consequences. He suddenly flung the kitchen knife, aiming for the LED light on the ceiling.

"Snap!"

A crisp shattering sound echoed as the knife hit the LED light precisely. However, the light remained unchanged, unaffected.

No time for disappointment, Zhou Qingfeng reached out and grabbed the knife holder from the sink area.

With a clatter, four or five different types of kitchen knives fell to the ground, producing a series of clear metallic clashes.

The FBI agent had not anticipated this scene. He believed Zhou Qingfeng was disarmed, without a gun, and victory was assured.

Upon seeing something being thrown from behind the kitchen counter, he instinctively sidestepped, his body slightly tilting, avoiding a potential attack.

After dodging, the agent realized Zhou Qingfeng was trying to break the light and raised his gun to fire, aiming to disable the hand that was reaching for the knife rack.

But as the gun fired, Zhou Qingfeng's hand appeared from another direction, throwing a knife.

The entire sequence was seamless and quick as lightning, taking just one or two breaths.

Throwing knives was a skill Zhou Qingfeng honed over more than ten years in the post-apocalyptic world. He could throw anything at hand, aiming for convenience and surprise to buy time.

The knife edge flew fast and fiercely, skimming the hair above the agent's forehead and embedding into the living room ceiling with a vrrt, the handle quivering with a vibrating sound.

"Fuck!" The FBI agent narrowly avoided being impaled, and in a fit of rage, fired several shots into the kitchen countertop, aiming to force Zhou Qingfeng out from behind it.

But in the next second...

"Snap!" Another clear shattering sound. The third kitchen knife hit the LED light precisely. The bulb shattered instantly, and the glaring white light extinguished in a flash, plunging the kitchen into darkness.

The sudden change in lighting gave the FBI agent two or three seconds of blurred vision. Instinctively, he dodged towards the living room, dreading an ambush.

In that instant, Zhou Qingfeng moved.

He darted out from behind the kitchen counter like a cheetah, taking advantage of his opponent's brief evasion, and moved to the other side of the kitchen.

Although the agent dodged a second time, his gun fired again, blocking Zhou Qingfeng's possible escape routes. The orders he received were to capture this guy, not unscathed.

Two gunshots exploded in the kitchen, bullets hitting the walls and cabinets with ear-piercing cracks.

But Zhou Qingfeng didn't plan to break through head-on, as the dining room was outside the kitchen, and beyond that, the living room—a vast space with nowhere to hide. Any headway would result in taking bullets.

His target was the stove next to the sink, where a loaded gun was hidden in the cabinet below.

It was a compact Glock 44, using low-power .22LR bullets, Julia's self-defense weapon.

Let's not forget, this was Chief Constable Conges' home, where several handguns were hidden. Even the seemingly frail Selena had her own self-defense weapon.

Zhou Qingfeng could only pray that Julia hadn't taken her gun when she hurried away. Otherwise, he would be completely lost.

His fingers touched the cabinet handle, but the agent's cold laugh echoed in his ears, "You think you can escape?"

The agent's vision had evidently recovered.

Zhou Qingfeng paid no heed to these words. He yanked the cabinet door open, his hand reaching quickly for the top of the cabinet.

There was a simple gun holster nailed there, where the Glock 44 usually sat, ready for action.

However, his hand grasped at emptiness.

The holster was empty, nothing inside.

Julia, always thorough and cautious, had taken her gun with her.

Zhou Qingfeng's heartbeat seemed to halt at that moment. All sound vanished, leaving only the suffocating silence in his ears.