Invasion of the United States

The drone was equipped with an assault rifle and a high-capacity drum magazine, ruthlessly sweeping the room with bullets.

Evidently, this second drone was here to assess the damage to the target and, if necessary, deliver a follow-up shot.

After the glass on the balcony shattered, the living room of the suite had become uninhabitable. All the agents fled in various directions, but the next second, they all scrambled back in.

Because outside, something even more terrifying had appeared—five or six mechanical dogs had emerged from somewhere.

These mechanical dogs were equipped with rifles, grenade launchers, and even flamethrowers. Their firepower was strong, and they were fearless; whoever engaged in a shootout with them was in for bad luck.

Especially the flamethrowers, which, though they seemed ordinary, were like those used in American country homes for burning dead leaves, their power was chilling.

The flames could stretch five or six meters, the searing heat far more terrifying than bullets. Even the bravest person could only run away covering their head.

Director Schmidt had just reached the suite door when he was met face-to-face with the flamethrower of a mechanical dog.

Flames instantly engulfed him, and he let out a piercing scream. His eyebrows, beard, and hair were all singed as he fled back miserably, his face full of fear and pain.

The room was in chaos, with agents dodging everywhere, the mechanical dogs' footsteps and the roar of flamethrowers intertwining, as if the apocalypse had arrived.

Zhou Qingfeng lay behind the sofa, his heart pounding like a drum, the comical footsteps of the mechanical dogs and the whizzing of bullets filling his ears, with the occasional rush of flames bursting in front of his eyes.

Nobody had expected the attacks to keep coming in waves, seemingly without end.

He could only stick close to the ground, minimizing his exposure, while observing his surroundings to find any possible place to hide.

At this moment, Director Schmidt fled back in a panic, his eyes quickly locking onto the leather sofa by the wall in the living room.

The sofa was large and thick, its heavy leather and solid wood frame making it the sturdiest cover in the room.

The director almost dived behind the sofa, hiding while shouting, "I'm Director Schmidt, cover me. Take down these mechanical bastards."

Zhou Qingfeng glanced at the person who suddenly appeared beside him, without time to think, he directly asked, "Do you have a gun?"

Even though he could legally purchase and own a rifle, handguns were strictly controlled. He hadn't brought any weapons when he boarded the cruise ship.

Director Schmidt didn't hesitate, quickly pulling out a "P320" handgun from his waist and handing it to Zhou Qingfeng, shouting, "Counterattack, immediately counterattack."

Zhou Qingfeng took the gun, feeling slightly more reassured.

However, the situation in the suite was growing increasingly dire.

All six mechanical dogs had charged into the Presidential Suite, working in pairs with perfect coordination, forcing the federal agents into a continual retreat.

These mechanical dogs could not only carry a load of forty or fifty kilograms and maneuver at high speed, but they were also fully modified with ample ammunition and fierce firepower.

More frighteningly, their critical parts were reinforced with heavy armor, making them hard to completely destroy unless the cameras, communication antennas, or control panels were directly hit.

Some agents had already emptied their magazines and, in desperation, tried to kick the mechanical dogs over, only to find their balance was extremely stable, making them impossible to topple.

Their four legs skillfully adjusted their center of gravity, and they were strong with keen sensory abilities. Sensing someone trying to kick them, they would immediately turn around and seek out their target.

Suddenly, a mechanical dog rushed to the side of the sofa, its gun muzzle pointing directly behind it.

Zhou Qingfeng had just gotten the handgun and hadn't even had time to adjust his posture when he heard the approaching footsteps of the mechanical dog.

His heart tightened, and without hesitation, he gave Director Schmidt a hard push on the lower back.

The already panicked director, crouching behind the sofa, was flung face-first to the ground, his head hitting the floor heavily.

He had just lifted his head when he saw the cold muzzle of the mechanical dog's gun pointing at him, no more than two meters away.

"I am Director Schmidt!" he shouted almost instinctively, hoping that his identity might bring a glimmer of hope.

The mechanical dog didn't react at all, its head lowering slightly as the machine gun on its back adjusted position, followed by a burst of rapid-fire "tat-tat-tat-tat."

The director's head was instantly blown apart, blood and brain matter splattering everywhere.

Seizing the moment that the director offered as cover, Zhou Qingfeng had a chance to adjust his posture, aiming the gun steadily at the camera beneath the mechanical dog's head, and pulled the trigger calmly. This version was sourced from M|V|L^EMPYR.

"Bang bang"—two shots, the camera shattered on impact.

Without its eyes, the mechanical dog didn't fall immediately.

Instead, it went into a berserk state, its back machine gun wildly spraying bullets, pouring them out like rain.

Its customized machine gun was connected to a two-hundred-round ammo box, granting it immense sustained firepower.

The bullets whizzed over Zhou Qingfeng's head, the muzzle flashes sweeping back and forth, not only suppressing his escape but also threatening to turn him into a sieve at any moment.

Zhou Qingfeng dared not lift his head, only raising the handgun slightly, shooting continuously towards the mechanical dog's direction. However, even after emptying the magazine, the mechanical dog still didn't fall.

Just as he was trying to drag Director Schmidt's body over for cover, a buzzing sound suddenly came from behind his head.

Zhou Qingfeng's heart sank—this was when he realized with horror that he had overlooked a deadly presence: the second drone from the balcony had already come inside.