Invasion of America

Chapter 17 Accident
After dinner, Kelly drove Zhou Qingfeng back to Baitan Town herself - the reason was that he had not won the grand prize yet and did not want to leave Baitan Town.

In fact, he instinctively felt that it would be better to stay away from those "shrewd" legal and business elites.

Those guys have been struggling in the business and political arena for decades. They have a very low moral bottom line. They only care about the results and not the process. Their perspective on things and their way of doing things are completely different from those of ordinary people.

The apocalypse Zhou Qingfeng was accustomed to was a world without rules, where everyone acted straightforwardly and had no time for intrigue. He was truly not good at applying the complex laws.

When he stood up and walked out of the restaurant, the old guys who had been chatting happily just now fell silent for a moment and then made a small bet.

The initiator of the bet was Old Baker. He leaned back on the leather sofa, holding a glass of whiskey, and said with a joking smile:

"Everyone, let's make a bet - how long do you think it will take that guy to lose all that $1.5 billion?"

Jeff Connolly, the 'old father', responded without hesitation: "Five years, at most five years, and he will be a pauper again.

An eighteen-year-old young man cannot resist too much temptation. He will soon become a piece of fat meat to be hunted.

Luxury cars, mansions, luxury goods, and the beautiful girls who surround him, any one of them can make him lose his way."

As the son-in-law, Nar Johnson was displeased by this statement and analyzed cautiously, "I think with Kelly helping him manage his finances, he should be able to last eight to ten years.

The premise is that he doesn't let all kinds of scammers pull him into starting a business, doesn't make reckless investments, and doesn't act too arrogantly. If he just indulges in extravagance and reckless behavior, $1.5 billion will be enough for him to spend for a lifetime."

After hearing this, several people burst into laughter.

Because investing is indeed the most wasteful thing.

Old Baker shook the wine glass in his hand nonchalantly and said frivolously, "Sudden wealth will make young people quickly inflate their egos.

He only needs to attend a few more cocktail parties, be flattered by everyone, meet dozens of beautiful girls, and become addicted to drugs and gambling, and he will collapse in less than three years.

Those financial vultures, socialites, and "entrepreneurship mentors" who specialize in defrauding people are probably already ready to go.

This is a piece of super fat meat worth $1.5 billion, and there are too many people eyeing it. I don't believe that kid can get away. He is destined to fall."

Jennifer was puzzled by the negative comments from her parents. She looked at her father and asked:
"Dad, if you think Victor is doomed to fail, why do you still help him? And let my sister stay with him? It's even a bit too intimate."

The 'old father' looked at his second daughter and whispered to her, "After all, that's over $1.5 billion in assets. If you're going to squander it all, why can't we squander it all?
We are indeed helping him, everything will be legal and compliant, and the fees will be reasonable. But if he can't control himself, it's not our fault.

As you just saw, he ignored the advice and spent money to buy a pharmaceutical company that was about to go bankrupt.

Did he understand the company? Did he understand the pharmaceutical industry? He was investing in a business I wouldn't even consider.

As for your sister Kelly, she always wants to challenge my authority as a father and create miracles. She is still so rebellious in her thirties.

Jennifer is very clear about her sister's personality. She is the eldest daughter in the family who is sharp, sensitive, proud, and always tries to prove herself but always fails.

but.
"Dad, why aren't you worried about Victor? What if he's not as easy to manipulate as you think?

After all, he was involved in a serious criminal case. Many people were killed and injured in the 'bar lottery' incident. So you're concluding he's just a puppet, not the real murderer?"

The group of old guys looked at each other and laughed again.

The most experienced old Baker shook his head and said in a negative tone: "A student who has been in the United States for less than three months suddenly has the guts to get involved in a gang fight?
He even killed at least two people very efficiently under the attention of the police, escaped without leaving any clues, and got the jackpot lottery ticket?

No, that's impossible. That guy is just a puppet. The real murderer is clearly behind him. I can say with certainty that the FBI will never give up easily."

That sounds reasonable.

But when Jennifer recalled every little bit of her contact with Zhou Qingfeng, many indescribable details came to her mind.

The boy does have the impulsiveness and recklessness of a young man, but he is more mature and calm in the face of difficulties, not like a puppet.
-
The night is as dark as ink.

The car lights were like blades, cutting through the darkness and illuminating the sparse trees on both sides of the road.

Kelly drove a silver Porsche, holding the steering wheel intently, looking straight ahead, occasionally glancing at the young man in the passenger seat with a cold and indifferent look.

Zhou Qingfeng leaned back in his seat, his head slightly tilted toward the window, his eyes fixed on the scenery passing by quickly. Occasionally, he would glance at Kelly, their eyes intertwined, then separated.

The only sounds in the car were the low roar of the engine and the rustling noise of the tires. The silence between the two was not broken until the car slowly stopped in front of 114 Beach Street.

Kelly turned off the engine, unbuckled her seatbelt, opened the door, and walked around to the passenger side.

As soon as Zhou Qingfeng got out of the car, she hugged him. As she leaned close to Zhou Qingfeng's cheek, she whispered, "Victor, are you sure you want to buy 'Apocalypse Biology'?"

Zhou Qingfeng could feel her breath and the faint scent of perfume, a mixture of citrus and woody notes, cool yet with a hint of warmth.

"Yes, I want to buy it, I'm not kidding." Zhou Qingfeng was serious.

Kelly took a step back and looked directly into Zhou Qingfeng's eyes, as if trying to judge the truth in his words.

After a moment, she nodded and said confidently and firmly: "My father is too old and doesn't think highly of that company. He thinks it is hopeless.

But I've personally visited and found the opposite to be true.

'Apocalypse Bio' does not have any substantial results at present, but it has burned through more than three billion US dollars and trained a team of hundreds of people. It would be a pity to give up.

I'm glad you agree with me.

I will immediately start the preliminary work of acquiring it, and I will definitely buy it at a very good price, so your money will not be wasted."

Kelly has a very strange temperament. She is a mother of two children in her thirties, but she exudes the rebelliousness of a seventeen or eighteen-year-old girl, as if her adolescence had never ended.

There is a kind of unyielding stubbornness in her eyes, as if she is always ready to declare to the world: she does not need anyone's approval to do her best.

In fact, she is like a child who lacks love and desperately needs recognition.

When Zhou Qingfeng was about to let go of Kelly and end the polite hug, Kelly suddenly leaned in closer and touched his lips lightly.

At that moment, time seemed to stand still.

The woman's lips were soft and cool, with a hint of mint, like morning dew, gently falling on his lips.

Although it was just a light touch, Zhou Qingfeng felt a sudden stimulation, as if an electric current passed through his lips and hit his heart.

After their lips parted, Kelly didn't say much, nor was there any lingering affection.

She turned quickly, opened the door, got in the driver's seat, started the engine, and the car disappeared into the night.

Instead, Zhou Qingfeng stood there, watching the red light of the car's taillights gradually fade away - this woman looked cold on the outside, but actually had a fiery heart.
-
On the night of claiming the prize, Zhou Qingfeng returned to Baitan Town and continued to live in Sheriff Congers's house.

The next day, there was no movement from the FBI. Inspector Carl, who was in charge of the "Bar Lottery" case, seemed to have fallen asleep.

On the third day, Zhou Qingfeng received an expedited green card, allowing him to buy a car and a house in the United States, get a driver's license, and purchase firearms.

On the fourth day, the FBI bureaucracy seemed to finally react.
Early in the morning, Sheriff William Congers pushed open the heavy door of the police station and was called into the chief's office, where he learned that he had been suspended.

"Suspended?" Congers' voice suddenly exploded in the office, shouting in disbelief, "Why are you suspending me?"

The chief's expression was strained as he sighed, "The police department has received a report alleging that you have committed multiple acts of dereliction of duty and illegal activities.

Including but not limited to crimes such as violent law enforcement, beating suspects, threatening witnesses, accepting bribes, and destroying evidence.

The FBI has already intervened in your investigation. They originally wanted to arrest you directly. The only thing I can do is to change the 'arrest' to 'suspension'. Now, please hand over your police badge and gun, and be prepared to accept questioning by the FBI at any time.

Congers looked down at the shining police badge on his chest, the symbol of what he had fought for for many years.

He has a bad temper, a tough style and a rude attitude, but he always hates evil and never shows mercy to criminals.

Of course, his law enforcement methods were inevitably cruel, and because he adopted informants, there were inevitably some gray areas in law enforcement, and he also made some extra money to supplement his family income.

This not only caused the captured criminals to hate him, but also the townspeople and colleagues to be afraid of him, which led to a lot of criticism behind his back.

Being suspended from work seemed to be a foregone conclusion.

No matter how reluctant Congers was, he could only take off the police badge with trembling fingers, then slowly reached to his waist and took off the gun and police equipment that had been with him for many years.

"Chief," Congers said, his voice hoarse and low, trying to squeeze out a sentence from the back of his throat, "What specific case is it that warrants my suspension?"

"Don't worry, William, these are just ordinary complaints, but I have to go through the process." Director Matthew took a deep breath and said slowly: "Believe me, I will definitely help you.

But if you don't cooperate, the FBI will arrest you immediately. Now they just want you to assist in the investigation."

"Assisting in the investigation, how is that any different from an arrest?" Congers' temper exploded instantly, and he roared, "At least let me know the real reason!"

The entire police station could hear the roar coming from the chief's office.

Director Matthew immediately softened his tone and said, "William, don't ask any more questions. They are just minor issues. Just treat it as a vacation. I'll handle the behind-the-scenes stuff."

Congers had no choice but to endure it.

The police officers in the office area were confused as to what was going on. They only saw the sheriff, who was the bravest, most ferocious, most capable of deterring criminals in the town, and also the one who received the most complaints, stride out of the chief's office and slam the door and leave.

Director Matthew slowly stood up and told his secretary to find someone to fix the broken door. Then he closed the door and returned to his desk with a frown on his face.

After a while, the chief called a civilian police officer and said with a stern face, “Congers is in trouble, and the FBI is targeting him.

The exact reason is unclear, but it's not a good sign. I'm a little worried about the impact on business in town."

The civilian police officer understood what he meant and immediately asked, "Do you need someone to take him out?"

The director considered it for a moment and nodded vigorously, "Do the job quickly and don't make any mistakes."
-
After being suspended, Congers not only lost his police badge and gun, but his partner of many years will also be teamed up with other police officers.

As he walked out of the police station gate filled with anger, his partner leaned against the car door, talking on the phone to someone. He looked at him coming down the steps and shouted, "Hey, boss, there's a case on the third block."

Congers pushed his partner away. "There are no more cases. I've been put on compulsory leave. You can handle it yourself."

When he reached the police car, he subconsciously reached out to open the door, but then he realized that he couldn't even use the police car anymore, so he kicked the tire in anger and turned around to leave on foot.

Just then, two plainclothes FBI agents got out of a car parked near the police station.

After showing their credentials, they took Congers away without mercy in the name of "assisting the investigation."

Within minutes, everyone in the police station knew William Congers had fallen. Within half an hour, the news had spread throughout White Beach.

Everyone knows that without the identity of a police officer, this "tiger" is like having its teeth pulled out.
-
At this moment, Zhou Qingfeng has long been away from the hustle and bustle of Baitan Town, not to mention the boring campus life - with $1.5 billion about to be in hand, who would still want to go to school?

His mood at the moment was just as described in the ancient poem: "The spring breeze is blowing, and the horse's hooves are galloping." He was immersed in unprecedented ease and joy.

The Miami sun shone on his shoulders, Jennifer held his arm, and the two of them strolled around this exotic city.

After getting the green card, Zhou Qingfeng’s first thing was not to enjoy the beautiful beach scenery, but to go straight to a local gun store to satisfy his gun craving.

For him, guns are not only tools for self-defense, but also his partners for survival in the apocalypse.

Zhou Qingfeng quickly selected several high-quality pistols from the dazzling array of firearms on display and headed straight for the shooting range to test fire them. The one that most captivated him was the Kimber M1911 series.

Although this gun is still called 'M1911', it is no longer the same as Browning's original design from more than a hundred years ago.

He gently stroked the gun body, feeling the cold metal texture, and couldn't help but marvel at the exquisite modern craftsmanship.

Whether it is materials, craftsmanship, or internal design, the modern M1911 has undergone significant improvements.

The lightweight aluminum alloy frame, precision-machined barrel, and optimized ammunition supply system all demonstrate the progress of modern technology.

Gripping the gun handle tightly and feeling the perfect center of gravity and grip, any gunman would secretly admire it in his heart.

At the gun store's shooting range, he test-fired several different models of Kimber pistols, each shot hitting the bull's eye accurately, leaving more than a dozen closely spaced holes on the target paper.

Jennifer was very surprised. "Victor, where did you learn your marksmanship? I have the impression that most Chinese people don't know how to use guns."

Zhou Qingfeng shrugged and replied casually, "I'm an exception."

In fact, his marksmanship was not top-notch, and the cruel environment of the end of the world did not give him enough bullets to practice his accuracy.

His advantage lies more in his psychological quality - he is stable, ruthless, experienced, and has encountered all kinds of bad things.

As soon as trouble showed signs of emerging, he either avoided it or nibbled it.

As for marksmanship
Although the eighteen-year-old body is young and full of vitality, it is not strong enough and lacks sufficient strength to perfectly control the gun.

However, real combat does not rely solely on physical strength, but also on mental calmness and decisiveness.

"Can I buy these guns?" Zhou Qingfeng took a fancy to five pistols, all of which were priced at more than $1,500.

Including two portable models, as well as matching magazines, flashlights, scopes, etc. But all of these added up are not as expensive as the Hasselblad camera that Jennifer wanted to throw away before.

Seeing that the customer was a young Asian man, the gun store clerk shook his head and said, "Sir, you have to be 21 to buy a handgun, but you can buy a rifle if you are ."

There were hundreds of rifles of different prices in the store, and Zhou Qingfeng wanted to buy some. Just as he was about to pick a few to test shoot, the phone in his pocket suddenly vibrated.

An unfamiliar number appeared on the screen.

Seeing this, Jennifer tactfully stepped aside and continued browsing other firearms. Zhou Qingfeng pressed the answer button and put the phone to his ear.

"Victor?" A strange voice came from the other end of the phone, as if it had been distorted, sharp and distorted, like a duck quacking.

Zhou Qingfeng's heart sank suddenly, and his intuition told him that this phone call was definitely not from a good person.

His fingers slid across the screen quickly, activating the call recording function, and at the same time lowered his voice and asked, "It's me, who are you?"

The other party did not answer his question, but said in an extremely mocking tone: "I want $100 million, otherwise I will send the video of you killing Toto and Raul to the FBI.

Don't think that no one will know what you did because it's so secretive. On the contrary, I know it. Get your money ready."

Zhou Qingfeng's pupils suddenly contracted, and the hand holding the phone tightened unconsciously. The images of Toto and Raul quickly flashed through his mind.

His voice turned cold, and he asked again with suppressed anger: "Who are you?"

A low and contemptuous chuckle came from the other end of the phone, followed by a busy tone - the other party hung up.

(End of this chapter)