Invasion of the United States

The lobby of the "Lloyd Community Blood Donation Center" was dim and oppressive, fluorescent lights humming dully on the ceiling, casting a pale light, reflecting off the tiled floor with a cold gleam.

When the punk-style red-haired Victor pushed the door open and entered, his eyes swept across the room like a hawk, completing a detailed observation of the "crime scene" within seconds, quickly planning his course of action in his mind.

A fat and black nurse sat at the front desk, lazily leaning against the back of the chair, her fingers sliding on the phone screen, eyes tired, with a trace of impatience at the corner of her mouth.

When Lisa and Annie walked towards her, she didn't even lift her head, clearly posing no threat.

A man, so thin that he was skin and bones, was curled up in a plastic chair, weeping softly. The nurse next to him coldly refused, "You don't weigh enough, we can't draw blood from anyone under 110 pounds."

A young man holding a water cup looked pale, judging by the blood spots on his arm, he had just sold his blood and was being debilitated by dizziness and weakness, unable to even stand up.

Inside the lobby, the blood donation area had two rows of semi-reclined chairs placed opposite each other, with thin foam pads on the backrests, separated by faded plastic curtains.

Seven or eight donors lay there, some resting with their eyes closed, others listening to cheerful music with headphones, seemingly escaping the grim reality temporarily.

The phlebotomist was expertly inserting needles, the 16-gauge needles particularly thick, puncturing the donors' arm veins.

The bright red blood flowed through transparent tubes into a humming plasma separator, replacing the blood with pale yellow plasma.

Those who finished donating blood wouldn't get up immediately, lying weakly to catch their breath. Thecanonicalsourceforthiscontent:M|V|L2EMPYR.

The nurse would quickly come to collect the blood collection bottles, informing them how much money they earned this time. Then, she would hand over a pre-paid card or some crumpled cash bills.

Most of the people coming here were driven mad by poverty.

There were naive ones like Lisa and Annie, selling blood to get money for the life they wanted. And there were tall and fat black guys, laughing wholeheartedly without a care.

Zhou Qingfeng focused on those nurses holding pre-paid cards and cash. Their movement revealed the source of the money—a small office to the right of the front desk, with the door half ajar.

He was most alert to the security guard sitting against the wall—a white man in his forties, with a steady face like a rock, wearing a black bulletproof vest, a Glock handgun at his waist.

When Zhou Qingfeng followed Lisa and Annie inside, the white security guard immediately sensed something was wrong, becoming highly tense.

This punk styled guy, with his cap low and a mask on, walked steadily, not looking like someone here to sell blood.

The guard's hand instantly went to his gun holster, muscles tensed, eyes locked onto this unwelcome guest, ready to draw his gun at any further sign of trouble...

Then, two gunshots rang out.

As Zhou Qingfeng entered combat mode, the entire blood donation center seemed to slow down. He drew his gun swiftly, like a flash of lightning, aiming it at the white security guard.

Two bullets were fired from the chamber.

The first bullet hit the guard's bulletproof vest with a heavy thud, the kinetic energy of hundreds of joules pinned him harshly against the wall behind.

He groaned, the chair squeaked, his face immediately twisted.

The second bullet followed closely, grazing past his head, smashing into the wall with a bang, paint splattered like raindrops.

The bullet embedded into the inner brick, leaving a fist-sized hole.

After being shot in the chest, the white security guard instantly lost half of his combat power. The close-range threat of the second shot was more like a psychological blow.

His heartbeat scrambled, instinctively trembling, his body curling uncontrollably, sliding under the chair to avoid the splinters, and possible third bullet.

Everyone in the blood donation center immediately screamed, crouched down, covered their heads, the routine all very familiar. Only then did they hear the loud shout—Robbery!

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At the moment the gunshots erupted, Lisa and Annie's bodies tensed up as if pulled by an invisible string, reflexively carrying out the standard "active shooter" response.

This instinct had been drilled in American schools through repeated practice, ingrained in their bones. They immediately crouched low, lying down, their heads close to the cold tiles.

Only after that did they nervously determine the direction of the gunshots, soon seeing the man following them quickly rushing towards the white security guard sitting in the corner of the lobby.

The guard, holding his head with both hands, had a bullet hole in his bulletproof vest still emitting faint smoke. He decisively abandoned his duty, completely giving up any thoughts of resistance.

Zhou Qingfeng grabbed his collar, rudely pulling him up from the ground, pushing him to stumble a few steps, and commanded in a low voice, "To the payment office."

The office was to the right of the front desk, the door half ajar, just a few steps away.

Inside the office, a worn wooden desk occupied the center, behind it sat a middle-aged staff whose role was unclear, perhaps a doctor or a cashier.

In the corner, there was a burly black security guard, tightly holding a handgun, its muzzle already aimed at the door, eyes alert and tense.

When Zhou Qingfeng pushed the white security guard with raised hands to the door, revealing only half of his stern face, the black guard's expression changed instantly.

He instantly dropped his gun, raised his hands, and shouted loudly, "OK, OK, don't shoot! Don't harm anyone! You want money, just take it, no one will stop you!"

Zhou Qingfeng's gaze swept over the desk, he tossed a worn canvas bag, the bag landing with a "snap" on the desk.

He didn't speak, just tilted his head slightly, his eyes cold.