Invasion of America

Chapter 154 Bar
A tattered bar sign hung crookedly on the wooden door, with a line of somewhat blurred words on it, almost illegible like graffiti.

A rough-looking guard in a leather jacket sat behind the door, with a big beard and a loaded shotgun in his arms. He stood guard at the bar entrance, lazily watching the movements inside and outside.

Zhou Qingfeng searched his way through the ruined streets, and when he was only a dozen meters from the bar, he attracted the attention of the armed guards.

The other person's face was hidden in the shadow of the wooden door. Before Zhou Qingfeng could get close, the person said rudely, "Stop. We don't welcome strangers here."

“I’m no longer a stranger now that I’m here.” Zhou Qingfeng’s steps seemed slow, but he suddenly accelerated when the other man moved his gun, closing in on the guard like a wall and grabbing the gun barrel.

The guard trembled with fear. He tried to pull the trigger of his shotgun, only to find that the gun had been taken away. In his shock and anger, he almost fell off the high stool he was sitting on, thinking he was going to die.

Zhou Qingfeng checked the shotgun, released the safety, tossed it to Jiang Menglong who was following behind him, then patted the tavern guard on the shoulder and said reassuringly:

"Don't be nervous, my name is Victor. I've heard that Newport News has become a huge black market for arms, and the leader is called Drake. Is he here?"

The tavern guard, his face pale, shook his head and replied, "I've never heard of such a person."

"Of course you haven't heard of it, that's a name I made up." Zhou Qingfeng laughed along. "Why don't you tell me, who should I contact if I want to do business in Newport News?"

The tavern guard steadied himself for a moment, then carefully examined the grinning Asian man before him and the armed men behind him, realizing the situation was quite troublesome.

The city is a complex web of powerful factions, and none of them are easy to deal with. The people in front of us must not only be bold, but also quite capable to have made it this far; otherwise, they wouldn't be able to maintain order.

He didn't dare to spout nonsense or reveal his secrets, so he could only tilt his head towards the inside of the tavern and say, "Why don't you go find our boss? He's behind the bar and knows the city well."

"Okay, I like talking to the boss."

Zhou Qingfeng grinned maliciously and increased the force of his pats on the shoulder. His strength far exceeded that of ordinary people, and he patted the guard until half of his body went numb, forcing him to lean against the wall to avoid slipping and falling to the ground.

The original bar door has been removed and replaced with a few rusty steel plates and haphazardly laid wooden planks, which make an annoying creaking sound every time it is opened.

Pushing open the door, a whiff of air mixed with cheap whiskey, sweat, and a faint smell of smoke hit me.

A dim light bulb, powered by a truck battery and hanging in the center of the ceiling, casts a somber light on the rough wooden bar counter.

A few disheveled customers were scattered throughout the bar, eating canned luncheon meat as snacks, drinking the last of their bourbon whiskey, chatting and laughing, or playing cards for fun.

The walls of the bar, once adorned with posters of sexy women, are now covered only with faded graffiti and spray-painted warning signs—"Whoever causes trouble, gets shot."

A tall woman wearing a cowboy hat, with a large bust and a pretty face, was wiping glasses behind the bar, occasionally chatting and laughing with the drunken customers.

When she saw a customer push the door open and come in, she immediately stared at him sharply. When she realized it was a stranger, she subconsciously reached under the bar.

"My name is Victor, I'm looking for your boss."

Zhou Qingfeng sat down at the bar, glanced at the woman's hand hidden under the bar, estimated the distance and angle, and used his chest, which was covered by a heavy bulletproof vest, to block it.

Using the dim light from the ceiling, the busty woman glanced at the shoulder straps of Zhou Qingfeng's bulletproof vest at the collar, then looked at the men following behind him.

This guy's here to cause trouble, and he's a tough one at that.

The woman withdrew her hand from the shotgun under the bar, raised her voice a few decibels, and, with both hands on the counter, said, "I am the boss. Are my bodyguards at the door alright?"

This sentence acted like a signal, drawing the attention of all the customers in the bar, who all stared at it with hostile eyes.

Someone even deliberately shouted provocatively, "Hey, a bunch of yellow-skinned monkeys have arrived, looking pretty smug."

Zhou Qingfeng turned his head to look at the person who had provoked him, then turned back to the busty woman behind the bar and said, "Your bodyguard is fine. I left one of my men to chat with him and watch the door for you."

The woman glanced towards the bar entrance, then picked up the glass she had just used, wiped it, and asked, "Want a drink? I have plenty of 'Bourbon' here, you can't find it anywhere else."

Zhou Qingfeng shook his head. "I don't drink. I just heard that you can buy a lot of things at Newport News, so I came to take a look. By the way, what should I call you?"

“She-Ra.” The busty woman held out her hand. “If you want to buy something, you should go to the port. They have everything. From guns and ammunition to airplane fuel, whatever the military base has, the port has too.”

Newport News is one of the most important shipyards in the United States, and it is surrounded by a ring of super-large military bases and warehouses, the most famous of which is 'Norfolk'.

Norfolk is not only the home port of the U.S. Second Atlantic Fleet, but also a comprehensive naval base.

It is surrounded by Langley Air Force Base, Norfolk Naval Station, Little Creek Amphibious Base, Norfolk Naval Air Station, and Oshinana Naval Air Station.

The naval stations alone have millions of barrels of high-octane naval and air force fuel in their oil depots. As for the air force bases, the F-22s and F-35s are parked in hangars, currently neglected.

After the apocalypse, the surviving soldiers, officials, and residents of this place became local tyrants. The military supply depots were full of scarce resources, and they lived a very comfortable life.

The bar Zhou Qingfeng found was located in the ruins of a neighborhood in Newport News.

The woman behind the bar was in her early twenties, tall and fit, with no signs of fatigue. She was either a former active-duty U.S. soldier or a family member of a U.S. soldier; she must have some connections.

"I came from the port, and I'm looking to buy quite a lot. For example, 10,000 rifles, each with 2,000 rounds of ammunition, 10,000 tons of fuel, preferably aviation kerosene. And..."

Before Zhou Qingfeng could finish speaking, the woman puffed out her chest, her face darkening, and snapped, "Do you still want a piece of land in the port to station a few hundred or a thousand people?"

These words were laced with sarcasm and anger, but Zhou Qingfeng nodded.

"I purchase and deliver a lot of supplies, so I need a place to store them. Can you feed yourselves by guarding those planes, ships, fuel tankers, and vehicles?"
Would you like to spread jam on your bread? Would you like to see the dentist regularly? Would you like to have beautiful clothes to change every day? Would you like to live like you did before the pandemic?

If you want something, you have to give something in return.

These words caused a stir in the tavern. Several patrons whispered among themselves, glancing at Zhou Qingfeng from time to time, and discussing him privately.

Sheri, however, remained unfazed. She scrutinized Zhou Qingfeng for a moment and sneered, "Do you think we're stupid? What is your so-called 'contribution'? Newport News doesn't welcome outsiders to stay permanently."

Zhou Qingfeng shrugged. "I have a ship fully loaded with supplies docking tomorrow. It's not a big ship, and there's not much cargo, just about a thousand tons." With that, he pulled out a cargo and procurement list and handed it to Xirui. "I asked around at the port, and your bar is kind of an exchange."

The people who come here for drinks are mostly influential. You have some connections too, would you be willing to help promote your products? Or perhaps become a distributor?

Siri was skeptical, but glanced down at the list and found that it mainly consisted of everyday items.

For example, the first item was bottled ketchup, the second was rum, the third was shoes, socks and clothing, and then there were fruits, tobacco, sugar, salt and the like.

She seemed to suddenly realize something and asked in surprise, "You're from the 'Holy Light' group, and you brought all this stuff from 'East University'?"

Zhou Qingfeng chuckled and shook his head, "We are indeed 'Holy Light,' but these products didn't come from across the ocean. For example, the ketchup comes from the Bahamas, which was a tourist hotspot before."

Human civilization suffered a devastating blow, but the sunshine, rain, and land remain. We fish, grow vegetables, and raise livestock near the tropical Bahamas, and now we can export them.

Sheri exclaimed in surprise, "What the hell? We're still in a mess here, and you guys are already starting to export?!"
-
Zhou Qingfeng wasn't lying; 'Holy Light' is indeed doing very well in the Bahamas.

Many small Caribbean nations rely on tourism for their livelihood, and the rampant virus has left them on the verge of collapse. In some countries, the lack of medical resources has led to near-extinction of the population.

'Holy Light' had been promoting 'warthogs' in the Bahamas for a long time, and had built a test flight field there, where several hundred people were stationed.

The second-hand cruise ship that Zhou Qingfeng bought is docked near the Bahamas. It is a floating refuge on the sea and has also sheltered many people.

After the situation stabilized, these members of the 'Holy Light' simply occupied Nassau, the island capital of the Bahamas, and started to be 'self-sufficient' on the island. They quickly made a surplus, which they could then trade.

As for Newport News...
A week earlier, when Xiao Jinlang planned to occupy this important town on the east coast, he arranged for Cervantes to lead a troop of auxiliary troops to scout ahead.

The result was not very good. There were dozens of scattered forces in this area, and each force was quite strong because they possessed a large amount of military supplies.

The year or so since the apocalypse began was not enough for these forces to compete for a leader. None of them would submit to the others, but they knew they couldn't fight each other, so they quickly chose foreign trade.

After all, the US military before the apocalypse was extremely powerful, and its warehouses were stockpiled with far too many supplies. Compared to them, Zhou Qingfeng was nothing.

When the Mexican auxiliary troops arrived, they were met with a resounding defeat, with several even dying, and retreated to Richmond in disgrace.

So Zhou Qingfeng arrived in person with his reconnaissance team. When he pulled out the invoice at the tavern, indicating he wanted to make a transaction, a group of customers stood up, eager to know the details.

Can I take a look at the goods?

Where is your boat moored?

"Want a warship? I have several patrol boats from the Coast Guard, they're very useful."

"What do you need patrol boats for? There are abandoned ships everywhere in the port and on the sea. What's in short supply right now is fuel, but I have some. Talk to me."

Marco and Tang Wen followed Zhou Qingfeng, acting as business people and purchasing agents, talking to the people in the tavern and going to various tables to 'make friends'.

Zhou Qingfeng sat motionless at the bar, not participating in the details of the discussion. It was Xirui who asked him, "Do you really have rum for sale?"

"Of course, these are originally Bahamian exports. I also have tobacco from Cuba, which is of very good quality. However, the packaging of these products is very basic because the related industries have collapsed."

Xi Rui looked at the shipping manifest. The rum was packaged in barrels, but he didn't know what kind of barrels they were. Each barrel was 500 kilograms.

She pointed to the relevant section and said, "I want two barrels of rum and ten cases of cigars, pay with bullets."

Zhou Qingfeng nodded noncommittally, "No problem, as many as you want." He then looked at the corner of the bar, pointed to a poster, and asked, "What the hell is that?"

The poster was newly put up, featuring a gay man wearing a top hat pointing off-screen, with the words "Join us, America needs you" in large print below.

Below the large characters were smaller characters that read 'Provisional Government of the United States of America'.

Shire laughed when she saw the thing. "A group of people came a couple of days ago, claiming to be officials from the federal government. They demanded that all forces here pledge allegiance to them and even put up posters."

Zhou Qingfeng immediately became wary and asked, "Where is the provisional government?"

“I don’t know.” Shire shook her head. “The people here are forming a council, hoping to unite and speak with one voice.”

However, none of the leaders are willing to concede to the others, and they're still arguing. We have absolutely no interest in any provisional government.

As she spoke, Sheryl reached out and tore the poster off, casually tossing it into the trash can.

Zhou Qingfeng continued, "Are those people still around? They wouldn't just leave like that, would they?"

"Of course not. Those guys are staying in the city, hoping to persuade us to join," Shire scoffed. "Unfortunately, they can't offer us any benefits or bribe us."
-
Just one kilometer away from the tavern, Mr. Darlington, the special envoy of the United States' provisional caretaker government at the end of the world, a former Washington, D.C. civil servant, and the leader of the Alpha Squad, was looking up at the sky, lost in thought.

Just a short while ago, a 'Warthog' had flown away in the sky. He recognized this iconic low-flying aircraft, especially its prominent 'halo' logo.

'Holy Light's' sanctuaries are scattered throughout North America, some in cities, some in rural areas, and some in deserts and wilderness.

From the perspective of the post-apocalyptic US government, this organization's members are like cockroaches, crawling all over North America and developing extremely rapidly.

In the past, the United States relied on its military bases all over the world and its overwhelming national power to forcibly interfere in the affairs of other countries. Now the tables have turned, and it is now others interfering in the affairs of the United States.

Americans, by nature, have a rebellious streak, and nowadays they are everywhere, each a potential leader of their own faction.

In the post-apocalyptic United States, the government is trying to reintegrate the Federation, but very few are willing to listen, while requests for supplies and aid are pouring in.

"The 'Holy Light' people are here." Darlington put down his binoculars and shouted to his men, "Prepare the car, let's go see who it is."
I have a feeling we'll catch a big fish this time.

(End of this chapter)