Invasion of the United States

At six fifteen in the morning, the grayish-white fog still shrouded the red-brick buildings of the Roslin District.

A military truck smashed through a barricade made of cars and furniture, crushing the glass shards on the ground, and roared loudly down the deserted street.

Every so often, a few soldiers in white protective suits would jump off the truck, going door to door.

First, to distribute some living supplies, and second, to check if anyone had died.

If deceased persons were found, the soldiers would open black body bags, place the corpses inside, and send them to the crematorium.

As for who died and what their identity was, there wasn't time to care anymore.

Inside the shaking truck, soldiers gazed out, the buildings' windows on either side of the street resembling hollow eyes, silently watching this group of "harbingers of death."

Since the lockdown, violent attacks and resistance have become increasingly common. The guard team soldiers who visited the homes were somewhat experienced.

Two people would remain in the truck, responsible for operating the machine gun and the vehicle, serving as a backup in case of any issues. Those assigned to clear the area were at least two per group, fully armed, to watch each other's backs.

Different groups communicated via radio to ensure that if one group encountered trouble, other groups could provide support, opening fire if necessary.

On the eighth day of the lockdown, a team of armed soldiers stopped outside a five-story apartment building in the Roslin District.

The sergeant leading the team glanced at the floors and felt the risk was too high, deciding against going in, and instead shouted to the soldiers in the truck:

"Drop the supplies downstairs and let the survivors in the building count their own numbers and carry out their own dead."

The soldiers were happy to take it easy and had no desire to enter the apartment. They took out a megaphone and started yelling for the people inside to come out themselves.

Before long, two haggard-looking men emerged from the building, carrying a corpse out on a makeshift stretcher.

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In the morning fog, Zhou Qingfeng kept his head down, his Asian face appearing harmless, maintaining a deliberately numb expression.

His hands, holding the front end of the stretcher, trembled slightly, not from fear, but to perfectly portray the image of a survivor tormented by the pandemic.

A yellowed bedsheet covered the stretcher, vaguely outlining the contours of a thin corpse.

The bespectacled man huddled behind, his lenses fogged with condensation, blurring his flickering gaze. They moved like two docile lambs, stepping mechanically toward the military truck. This сhаptеr wаs оriginаlly pоstеd оn М^VLЕМРYR.

The back of the truck was open, revealing several black body bags and a dozen baskets of bright red tomatoes, their color glaring in the dim dawn light.

"Slow down! I know you are all resentful, and so am I." The leading sergeant's voice was muffled and distorted through his protective mask.

His rifle's safety made a crisp "click" sound, his index finger hovering outside the trigger guard, extremely alert.

"Hands where I can see them. Don't complain, don't protest. Put the body in the body bag and take your daily supplies."

Zhou Qingfeng slowly placed the stretcher beside the truck. When he lifted the sheet, he deliberately let the soldiers see the blue-purple face of the deceased.

It was indeed a corpse that had succumbed to the virus, with sunken eye sockets and blood scabs at the corners of the mouth, all very realistic.

"Only tomatoes for supplies? No meat or staple food?"

The bespectacled man asked in a perfectly weak tone as he and Zhou Qingfeng carefully placed the corpse into the bag.

"Be grateful, at least they aren't rotten." A soldier sneered. Through the fogged-up mask, heavy dark circles could be seen under his eyes.

The soldiers held their guns with both hands, their cold gazes fixed on the two who were carrying the bodies through the clear masks.

After loading the corpse into the truck, Zhou Qingfeng took some supplies off the truck, silently counting: six soldiers, one in the cab, one at the front, four on guard.

The leading sergeant shouted "Enough," and the two stopped.

Up until this moment, everything had been normal. The soldiers' tension had eased a bit as they were about to get back on the truck and drive forward.

The leading sergeant watched Zhou Qingfeng return to the apartment before closing the rifle's safety, opening the door, intending to take the co-pilot seat.

But at the moment the truck door opened, Zhou Qingfeng suddenly turned around like a phantom and dashed toward the leading sergeant.

The integrated protective suit provided excellent isolation from the virus but severely limited the wearer's hearing and vision.

The sergeant hadn't even managed to get in the truck when a heavy blow struck the back of his head, knocking him out instantly. Zhou Qingfeng swiftly seized the gun, moving toward the back of the truck.

The 'bespectacled man' was slower but grabbed a handgun, taking a few steps back and aiming at the soldier driving, whispering, "Don't move, don't shout, don't make any extra movements."

The apartment door suddenly flew open, and several armed men, full of fury, charged out. Their roles were clear – two controlled the cab, three lunged at the rear of the truck.

The soldiers in the truck didn't have time to react, just seeing the seemingly meek Asian carrying the corpse aiming a gun at them, coldly saying:

"Raise your hands, keep quiet, don't make me overreact. We're about to play a disguise game, and you should play along."

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Phil, the bespectacled one, was a civil servant in charge of foreign affairs from the United States Department of State, with his office located in Foggy Bottom, northwest of Washington, D.C.

Olno, muscular, came from the Marine Corps, currently working at the Pentagon. He could pilot various helicopters currently in service by the US Military.

Ruby, the older one, was from the United States Agency for International Development and had just become unemployed due to the new president's inauguration. He understood all the operational systems within the United States government and had an extensive network.