Invasion of the United States

Several massive floodlights were erected on the lawn of the city hall, illuminating the scene as bright as daylight.

Below the stage, a densely packed crowd filled the lawn, supporters waving placards.

When thunderous cheers erupted at the press conference, Governor Parker's political show reached its peak, like a carefully choreographed drama hitting its climax.

The chaos in Orlando provided the perfect stage. Standing on the temporary high platform, he waved his arms to acknowledge his supporters.

Just as His Excellency the Governor raised his hands, ready to conclude the night's event with a resounding statement, a deep, urgent rumble suddenly echoed from the sky.

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The roar of three approaching helicopters' rotors swiftly overwhelmed the cheers and applause, as if an invisible giant hand descended from the heavens, abruptly suppressing the entire atmosphere.

Everyone present instinctively paused their actions and turned their heads towards the night sky, faces filled with confusion and astonishment.

A spotlight from one of the police helicopters pierced the darkness like a sword, its beam straightly directed at the ground, rapidly advancing along the street towards the city hall.

At first, people wondered 'what's in the sky', but soon they realized the focus should be 'what's on the ground'.

Simultaneously, in the broadcast studios of several television media streaming the Orlando riot live, the atmosphere exploded instantly.

Hosts stared wide-eyed at the large screen on set. Commentators leaned forward from their seats, expressions filled with uncontrollable excitement and shock.

In the live footage, the silhouette of a heavily-armed Harley appeared faintly amidst flames and smoke, its image transmitted globally through the lenses.

And the beam of the police helicopter spotlight locked onto it tightly, as if crowning this knight charging into chaos.

Note: Check M_VLEMPY_R for any corrections.

A host slammed the desk abruptly, his voice nearly breaking: "That's the Orlando City Hall ahead!

My colleague is live from the lawn in front of the city hall, covering the Governor's press conference. Oh my god, that motorcycle's target isn't the riot zone—he's heading for the Governor!"

"What's this guy up to?" Another commentator widened his eyes, "He's not just an ordinary street thug; his target isn't a mere riot!"

The studio erupted in clamor, with audience calls inundating the hotline once again. In the comment sections of the online live stream, messages and exclamations surged like tides.

The viewership ratings curve of several TV stations soared almost vertically, leaving viewers collectively stunned for a moment, followed by a burst of exclamations.

"Florida never fails, always brings the big thrills!"

"This is more exciting than the Super Bowl, zoom in the camera closer!"

"This guy is too cool, I want to know who he is!"

"I bet Harley's stock price will rise tomorrow."

The atmosphere on the press conference lawn was completely out of control. Ellison Parker stood on the high platform, being the first to notice the approaching beam of light.

Following the beam, at the end of the street, a silver-glinting, heavily-armed Harley roared like a ferocious wolf, enveloped in rolling dust and the engine's roar, hurtling toward the scene at incredible speed.

The bike gleamed under the spotlight, the shields adorned with battle scars, the rider's figure solitary and stern, akin to a war god emerging from hell.

The supporters gathered outside the lawn were stunned, reporters raised their cameras, frantically pressing the shutters, security personnel scrambled towards the lawn's edge in a desperate bid to intercept.

The Governor's smile froze on his face, his arm suspended mid-air. Security personnel surrounding him pounced quickly, pulling him away in a hurry.

"What's that guy doing?" An aide standing by the platform murmured in alarm, but his voice was quickly drowned by the helicopter's roar.

The heavily-armed motorcycle drew nearer, its engine's roar causing hearts on-site to quiver. Zhou Qingfeng's eyes were sharp from afar, spotting the governor impeccably dressed in a suit under the lights.

The first obstacle lay ahead—the lawn in front of the city hall was enclosed by a solid iron fence.

The fence was more than a person high, with sharp spikes on top, clearly designed to prevent unauthorized entry.

The main gate of the fence was situated two to three hundred meters away; any normal person wanting to enter must obediently follow the path guarded by security.

But Zhou Qingfeng wasn't going to obey. He twisted the throttle, the engine roared in fury. He targeted a black sedan parked outside the iron fence.

Ahead, the Harley accelerated, its front wheel suddenly lifting, the head raised high like a warhorse rearing up in a decisive charge.

With a piercing "bang," the motorcycle's front wheel easily smashed onto the sedan's hood, crossing the windshield and using the car's roof as a ramp, leaping like an agile silver wolf.

Time seemed to freeze at that moment.

The heavily-armed Harley traced an arc in the air, its silver body flashed across, engine roars and wind sounds weaving into a furious symphony.

It soared a distance of seven to eight meters, crossing the seemingly insurmountable iron fence, then landed heavily with a muffled "boom."

The Harleys' wheels slammed onto the lawn, the immense impact plowing two deep furrows through the meticulously trimmed grass.

Soil and grass raveled and flew, akin to green dust being swept up by a wild wind.

The crowd on the lawn finally snapped out of their shock, realizing the scene before them far exceeded their imagination, chaotic emotions spreading rapidly like wildfire.

Cries of alarm echoed one after another, some sharp and ear-piercing, others low and restrained, the prior atmosphere of cheers shredded and completely vanished.