Invasion of the United States

Zhou Qingfeng crouched behind the sofa in the suite's living room, leaning against the thick leather upholstery, his head buzzing loudly, and the echoes of the explosion still reverberating in his ears.

The explosion in the confined space had generated a short but extremely intense air overpressure, several magnitudes more severe than setting off firecrackers by one's ears.

Those closer to the blast would either be killed or stunned; even those farther away could not escape ear pain, heavy chest and lungs, and difficulty breathing.

When the drone flew in, Zhou Qingfeng was the fastest to react, diving directly behind the sofa. However, he still felt a sharp pain in his chest from the overpressure when the explosion occurred.

As soon as the shockwave passed, he was the first to poke his head out to observe the situation in the living room, his gaze quickly sweeping over the now chaotic suite.

The originally luxurious crystal chandelier was shattered, with thousands of tiny crystals flying around like shrapnel.

The glass furniture was reduced to fragments, scattered on the floor, reflecting the remaining light from the chandelier.

The decorative oil paintings on the walls were blown askew and fallen, the ceiling charred, and the air was filled with the smell of gunpowder and burning.

The sea breeze blew in from the direction of the balcony, quickly dispersing the smoke in the living room.

A half-transparent thin line swayed gently in the sea breeze, glimmering faintly in the residual light of the chandelier.

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It looked like an invisible snake, slowly dancing in the air, occasionally taut and then bending, leading into the darkness outside the balcony.

It was a fiber optic cable.

The recent drone attack was not simply remotely controlled but precisely guided through fiber optics.

The high bandwidth, interference resistance, and low latency of fiber optics made them nearly invulnerable for close-range drone control.

This also meant that the attacker controlling the drone was not far away but right on this 'Caribbean' cruise ship.

Carl crouched nearby. He was the first to check on Governor Weston's condition, and immediately his face turned ashen, with sweat beading on his forehead and dripping down his neck.

This was the governor!

Not some nobody on the street.

In the Eastern Great Power across the ocean, this would be equivalent to the combined position of a provincial governor and party secretary, someone who could enter the politburo.

After confirming the governor was beyond saving, Carl went to check on the others.

The two colleagues trying to help the governor were severely injured, but Director Schmidt, who had pushed the governor, was unhurt, sitting up from the ground and staring blankly at the body.

Carl also noticed the fiber optics swaying in the living room. He gritted his teeth, carefully picked his way past the debris, and moved toward the balcony.

The fiber was as thin as a hair, almost blending into the night. He followed its direction, trying to find the source.

But he was soon disappointed; the attacker had quickly cut the fiber after the explosion. The sea breeze sent the hair-thin fiber fluttering aimlessly, with no discernible direction.

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With the help of his agents, Director Schmidt sat on a chair, pulling out a handkerchief to wipe the sweat from his forehead.

It took him several minutes to recover his composure. He urgently ordered the scene to be sealed off, forbidding anyone from leaving the 'Caribbean' cruise ship, while simultaneously informing the state government.

He also called Carl over and quietly instructed, "This was a terrorist attack. Arrest that Asian kid named Victor and don't spare his men either."

Carl did not understand at first, but quickly realized that the director wanted to find a 'scapegoat.'

It made no sense to say that Zhou Qingfeng planned this attack.

Governor Weston's visit to the Presidential Suite was a sudden decision, and Zhou Qingfeng had been escorted back by Carl from the deck.

Their encounter was purely accidental.

However, the governor's last words were highly significant.

He mentioned that the billions of US Dollars Zhou Qingfeng received had his tacit approval and brought up 'Apocalypse Creatures,' Professor Amir Khan, and an encrypted hard drive.

The FBI Los Angeles Branch rushed in via helicopter at night because of Governor Weston's direct order. He had even commanded Zhou Qingfeng's arrest without any evidence.

To say there was nothing fishy about this was unbelievable.

Director Schmidt's intentions were clear; continuing to follow the governor's orders would ease a lot of pressure on the FBI.

Rank has its privileges. Carl knew something was off but had no choice.

He turned around and saw that Zhou Qingfeng and his men were already surrounded by several agents. Their eyes met, both remained calm.

"Victor, sorry, I need your cooperation in the investigation." Carl walked over, still contemplating whether to take out the handcuffs...

Just then, the whirring sound of a drone's rotor suddenly came from outside the balcony of the Presidential Suite.

The sound grew louder, instantly breaking the room's tense calm. All the agents scattered like frightened birds, each scrambling for cover.

It's coming, it's coming, the terrorist attack is coming again.

Director Schmidt reacted the quickest, leaping up from his chair and dashing out of the suite, ignoring his image.

In front of explosives, everyone is equal. The governor was already dead; another dead director wouldn't be surprising.

Carl, without hesitation, rushed to the balcony, attempting to close the sliding door and draw the curtains. However, before his hand could reach the door handle, gunfire erupted from outside the balcony.

"Bang, bang, bang!" Several shots were fired inside, shattering the floor-to-ceiling windows on the balcony, sending glass shards flying everywhere.

Immediately, bullets rained in, turning the suite's living room into a chaos of flying debris from shattered furniture and wall fragments.

Carl barely avoided being hit by the bullets. He quickly dove to the floor, crawling to the side for cover. As he hit the ground, he clearly saw another small drone appear outside the balcony.