Invasion of the United States

The on-site reporters were the only ones who seemed to be fueled by adrenaline, raising their phones and cameras and wildly pressing the shutters, the flashes more dazzling than when facing the Governor.

Many of the on-site supporters instinctively stepped back, stumbling into each other, afraid of being caught in this sudden storm.

A diligent guard was the first to rush out from the edge of the crowd, shouting loudly, "Stop! Or I will shoot!"

However, the heavily armed Harley showed no sign of slowing down, continuing to charge toward the dais with crushing force.

The shotgun in Zhou Qingfeng's hand was faster than the guard's words. Grabbing the short gunstock with one hand, he aimed forward and pulled the trigger.

With a loud "Boom," the shotgun spewed out a burst of hot flames, and the pellets poured out like a torrential rain.

The chest of that guard suddenly blossomed with a flower of blood, his whole body struck by an invisible force, falling backward.

The screams in the crowd multiplied several times the moment the gunfire rang out, mixed with cries and curses, fear spreading like a plague.

This was a shooting, an assassination, a terrorist attack—Zhou Qingfeng did not pause, flicked his wrist, and the shotgun turned nimbly in his palm.

The lever-action mechanism completed the ejection with a "click," the empty shell spun out, tracing a short arc before landing on the grass. A new cartridge was quickly chambered.

Another guard squeezed out from the fleeing crowd, his face full of shock and anger, raised his gun and fired, trying to stop the approaching enemy.

Zhou Qingfeng's shotgun roared again. With a "bang," another burst of fire spewed out.

The guard groaned, his legs buckled, and he collapsed onto the grass, the blood rapidly staining the grass beneath him red.

From the iron fence to the dais, the straight-line distance was only about thirty meters. Several gunshots, and the Harley's tires rolled onto the wide steps in front of the city hall building.

On the dais, Governor Parker had already been swiftly evacuated under the cover of security personnel.

Well-trained Special Service personnel surrounded him, half-pushing, half-pulling him towards the side door of the building.

The Governor's face no longer had the previous calm and confidence, replaced by an unmistakable panic.

He retreated while glancing back at the approaching Harley, as if trying to strike a fearless pose.

But the responsible Special Service agent pressed down his head, giving him no chance to show off, forcibly dragging him along.

The side door of the building was already open, and the Governor's group almost scrambled inside, the shadows behind the door quickly swallowing them.

On the lawn, the searchlight in the sky locked onto Zhou Qingfeng, the police helicopter's roar becoming more urgent, as if beating the war drums for this chaos.

The media helicopter's cameras broadcast every frame to the world, and the studio host's voice had completely lost control:

"He's shooting! Two guards are down, he's charging up the steps, he's riding into the city hall, he's slaughtering!"

The guest commentator exclaimed one after another, "This is not an ordinary thug, this is an assassin, a hunter, his target is our Governor!"

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Since the Tree of Justice launched their terrorist attacks on the United States bureaucracy, the US Secret Service had received special funding from Congress to strengthen the security of high-level officials at all levels. My Virtual Library Empire (M V L E M P Y R) appreciates your readership at the source.

As a governor, Ellison Parker had a Special Service team on standby 24 hours a day, specifically to ensure his personal safety along with other security personnel.

When Zhou Qingfeng rode the heavily armed Harley like a silver lightning bolt into the press conference, the Special Service team's reaction was very swift.

The engine's roar was not even fully near yet when the Special Service team leader and members at the edge of the dais joined forces to form a human wall, grabbing his arms from left and right, half-dragging him off the dais.

At the edge of the lawn, a jet-black bulletproof car sat quietly. This was the mobile fortress prepared by the Special Service team for the Governor.

As long as the Governor got into this car, Zhou Qingfeng would have no way to deal with him—a mere modified shotgun was just a scratch against this bulletproof armor.

Not to mention that a large number of security personnel were converging from all directions.

However, the heavily armed motorcycle was too fast, the engine's roar approaching like thunder, the lawn churned up by the tires.

From the moment Zhou Qingfeng crossed the iron fence to charging up the steps, the thirty or so meters distance took only one or two breaths.

This left no reaction window for the Special Service team.

The Special Service team leader had to temporarily change the escort direction, grabbing the Governor's collar and leading the team members in a mad dash toward the side door of the city hall building.

At the same time, Zhou Qingfeng had already raced up the broad steps in front of the building.

He abandoned the slow-firing shotgun, returned it to the side compartment of the motorcycle, and drew a spare revolver from his ankle.

The advantage of a revolver is—if your finger is fast enough, so is the firing rate.

Several security guards from the city government building snapped out of their initial shock, drawing their guns and engaging Zhou Qingfeng.

At this moment, it's all about who stays calm and who can bring out their training on the battlefield.

Zhou Qingfeng's mind was icy cold.

The enemy had already opened fire first, bullets whizzing past his ears, some shooting into the sky, some grazing his shoulder, some hitting the marble steps.

His revolver was already in his hand, finger lightly resting on the trigger, ready. However, in the instant he decided where to point the gun, he hesitated for half a second...

Not out of hesitation, but to assess the battlefield with the precision of a hunter. As his gaze swept over the movements, positions, and threat levels of the security guards, in that split second, he made his judgment.

The three security guards at the front were clearly responding hastily, pulling triggers while frantically searching for cover, their steps faltering, and their gun barrels waving wildly.

Their shooting was more of a deterrent than a deadly attack, completely missing Zhou Qingfeng, posing almost negligible threat.

But the two security guards behind were entirely different. They didn't push to the frontline but steadied themselves behind the front row's cover, appearing more composed and experienced.

One hid at the end of the steps at a corner of the building, showing only half his body, firmly holding the gun with both hands, the muzzle already locked on the target;

The other leaned against a thick marble pillar, half-squatting to adjust his angle, his gaze cold, the threat level instantly skyrocketing several times.

Take out the two at the back first.

The muzzle of the revolver in Zhou Qingfeng's hand moved slightly yet quickly, time seemed to stretch and compress to the extreme in this moment.

"Bang!"

The security guard behind the steps showed only half his head, but the bullet drilled precisely into his forehead, and a burst of blood spray erupted.

His body fell with a thud, the handgun slipping from his grasp, his corpse tumbled down the steps, leaving a shocking trail of blood.

The security guard by the pillar had already aimed at Zhou Qingfeng, but upon seeing his comrade's head explode, he instead shrank sideways back to the cover, readjusting his aim.

Zhou Qingfeng gave him no chance, the muzzle of the revolver shifted, and the second bullet struck his neck, blood spraying instantly.

The three security guards at the front were completely thrown into disarray. They continued shooting aimlessly, unable to leverage their numerical advantage.

After Zhou Qingfeng's counterattack, they ducked behind cover even more timidly, their hands on the trigger trembling slightly, bullets flying aimlessly.

The heavy Harley engine kept roaring, even as gunfire echoed densely on the steps, it kept moving Zhou Qingfeng amid the flames and smoke.

The tires rolled over marble steps, over the drying bloodstains, leaving two crimson tire marks, like a sinister signature left by a harbinger from hell.

Blood and earth from the lawn mixed, thrown to the sides by the tires, splattering on the edges of the steps, exuding a chilling dark red glow.

With the sixth gunshot, the steps of the city government building were cleared—five security guards all lay collapsed in a heap, the ground left with bloodstains and scattered guns.

Zhou Qingfeng's gaze pierced through the smoke, catching the direction Ellison Parker was retreating.

The side door of the building was tightly shut, the silhouettes of the Special Service Bureau guarding the governor had long disappeared into the shadows.

He did not choose to pursue through the side door but quickly reloaded his revolver and shotgun, picking up two handguns and ammunition from the corpses, even grabbing a bulletproof vest for himself.

Then, the heavy Harley roared with a deafening fury, the vehicle charged forward fiercely, heading straight for the main door of the city government building.

The main doors of the building consisted of two huge glass doors set in heavy metal frames, with several broad steps in front as a buffer.

The glass doors shattered instantly upon impact, countless shards flying like torrential rain.

The Harley vibrated slightly, but its immense inertia left it uninterrupted, it barreled directly into the building interior.

The tires crunched over the shattered glass on the ground, producing a teeth-gritting "creak," the bike slid a short distance over the smooth marble floor before coming to a steady halt.

The killing was far from over...