Invasion of America

Chapter 37 Some Thoughts
The clock hand quietly pointed to half past ten.

Morris was still in a daze in his room on the third floor of the motel.

There was still noise outside the room, and it was getting louder as the night progressed.

He was still waiting for the agreed-upon call regarding the transaction. But the person who actually called was an FBI agent, who said in a cold and curt voice, "Morris, the operation is over. You can go home."

"It's over?" Morris breathed a sigh of relief, yet also felt a little disappointed. He pressed on, "Did you catch the target?"

The FBI agent did not answer directly, but only said, "This is not your concern." The phone was then hung up, leaving a cold busy tone.

Morris held the phone, the tension and excitement receded from his brain, replaced by depression and weakness.

A few days ago, he received a mysterious phone call. The other party offered a million dollars to buy the sensitive technology of "Apocalypse Biology", and he was indeed tempted.

But on second thought, he backed off again.

The FBI's "plundering" enforcement is no secret - for example, agents often visit prostitutes, and after enjoying the services, not only do they not pay, but they also arrest the people.

The FBI is particularly happy to set traps for confidential positions. Sometimes, for the sake of performance, they will deliberately set traps and even "hook" their own people.

Morris wanted the money, but he knew better than to take the risk. To clear himself of suspicion, he had to report the case immediately and contact the FBI.

But now, the operation suddenly ended, and he felt like an outsider, knowing nothing. He even paid for the hotel room himself, but in the end, he just waited in vain.

Morris sighed, stood up, picked up his bag, and slowly walked out of the room.

When checking out, the hotel owner was rude, forced him to pay a bathroom fee, and mocked him for looking like a homeless person.

Arriving at the parking lot, Morris got into his car and took the steering wheel but didn't start it immediately. His mind was fuzzy, and he felt like a chess piece being manipulated at will.

"I have to go to work tomorrow..." The dim light from the dashboard illuminated his tired face. He muttered to himself in self-mockery and was about to start the car and leave.

Suddenly, someone came out from outside the car window and knocked on it.

Morris shuddered, his heartbeat quickening. He turned his head sharply and saw a young Asian man standing outside the car through the window.

He subconsciously touched the pistol hidden beside him, then carefully lowered the window a crack, his voice a little tense: "What's the matter?"

"Morris, I'm your trader tonight." The young man smiled.

Morris' heart was in his throat. He looked around frantically, trying to find the FBI agent.

The FBI has warned that transactions must be conducted under surveillance and recording equipment to form a complete chain of evidence.

But now, everything has gone out of plan and we are totally unprepared.

"Don't look for it. The FBI has withdrawn, and no one is watching you." The young man saw through Morris's thoughts and said, "I'll wait for you at a nearby 24-hour fast food restaurant.

Don't bring that bag. I'm not interested in what's inside, and I don't understand it. I just want to talk to you.

Perhaps I can legally offer you a high-paying job or provide the help you desperately need.

After all, there's no law that says you can't change jobs or socialize, right?"

After saying this, the young man turned and left, his back quickly disappearing into the night.

Morris's heart was pounding, his hands clenching and unclenching on the steering wheel. He picked up his phone several times, wanting to call the FBI agent, but put it down again.

His eyes involuntarily glanced at the back seat, where the bag filled with 'confidential information' lay quietly, mocking his indecision.

The 'Gray Shark' chose Morris as its target carefully.

By spending a few hundred dollars and treating the Indian HR of Apocalypse Biotechnology to a meal, you can easily get a list of all researchers who have access to core secrets.

And Morris is the 'perfect candidate' with a troubled family and a weak character.

He felt very uncomfortable, his breathing was heavy, beads of sweat appeared on his forehead, and he twisted his body in the seat as if this could ease his inner anxiety.

Looking at the dark night outside the window and then at the bag on the back seat, he finally gritted his teeth and made up his mind, "It's not illegal to meet..."

Morris made an excuse for himself, then started the engine and slowly drove out of the parking lot toward the fast food restaurant.
-
There is a 24-hour fast food restaurant a few hundred meters away from the motel.

After dark, the restaurant counter is closed by a heavy screen door, leaving only a small barred window.

Inside the restaurant, the lights were bright and the air was thick with the smell of fried food. A waiter dozed drowsily behind the window.

Sitting at the entrance of the store was a neatly dressed black man in his fifties, slowly chewing a hamburger. He kept his eyes downcast, occasionally glancing towards the door, alert and calm.

A white man sat by the window, with chips and a drink on the table. He mechanically dipped the chips into ketchup, looked around with a sharp gaze.

These two people are like the restaurant's "door gods", making every customer who steps in here late at night feel afraid.

In Baitan, anyone who dares to eat out late at night is not a good person. It is not uncommon to see guns drawn at the slightest disagreement.

Morris stood outside the restaurant, watching through the glass door for a long time. He unconsciously touched the twenty-dollar bill in his pocket and muttered to himself:
"If we get robbed twice, this little money won't be enough to share..." His throat was a little dry and he hesitated to move forward.

"Hey...Morris." Just then, a voice called out from inside the restaurant. Morris looked in the direction of the voice and saw a young couple sitting at a table near the back.

The man was Zhou Qingfeng, the Asian 'trader' Morris had met in the parking lot. "Come in, the two at the door are my bodyguards."

Hearing the word "bodyguard," Morris's tense nerves relaxed a little. He took a deep breath and walked into the restaurant.

The two 'door gods' simply glanced at him indifferently and continued to focus on their food.

Morris walked over to Zhou Qingfeng's table and carefully sat down. A fast food meal was set out on the table. His stomach growled uncontrollably; he was really hungry.

"I thought you didn't have dinner, so I ordered this especially for you." Zhou Qingfeng twisted a French fry and smiled, "Let's eat and talk."

The bright environment makes people feel more comfortable, and the aroma of food also makes people relax.

Morris grabbed a burger, took a big bite without hesitation, chewed it a few times and swallowed it, then drank half a glass of drink. The satisfaction made him sigh:
"No matter who you are, at least you are better than those FBI."

Zhou Qingfeng laughed, "Being a devil always requires more effort than being an angel, otherwise how can you tempt people to fall?"

"Are you sure I'll fall?" His hunger was greatly relieved, and Morris calmed down. He stopped eating the burger and stared at Zhou Qingfeng's face. "Who are you?"

"My name is Victor, a nouveau riche. I'm interested in Apocalypse Biology, but I'm forbidden from acquiring it. I just received news that Apocalypse Biology is secretly collaborating with the military, under the codename 'X'. I'd like to know more details."

Morris froze, his burger hanging in the air, his appetite instantly gone. He frowned and asked, "How much are you willing to pay for this?"

"I won't pay you a penny." Zhou Qingfeng shook his head slightly, "This won't involve any monetary transactions."

"No money?" Morris felt angry. He felt like a complete fool, fooled twice in a row in the middle of the night.

"Don't worry, giving money is too vulgar." Zhou Qingfeng said in a deep voice: "If we are friends, wouldn't it be reasonable for me to help your daughter get a letter of recommendation for applying to a good university?"

Morris opened his mouth and only let out a short "ah" - he certainly understood that in a society like the United States where relationships are important, the number of connections one has can often determine a person's fate.

Many immigrants naively believe that American society is fair and transparent, but they don’t know that the real superiors simply don’t bother to play with the lower classes, and the classes have long been solidified like a solid wall.

For ordinary people, a high-quality letter of recommendation is like a golden key to open the door to promotion and an opportunity that is hard to come by.

Zhou Qingfeng continued, "You have a younger brother who is imprisoned in the notorious Markt Prison, serving as a 'friend' to a two-meter-tall, 150-kilogram serious criminal.

He has begged you many times, hoping to be transferred to another prison, or even to a different cellmate. If he doesn't escape, he will definitely commit suicide."

Morris's face turned pale in an instant, as if he had been stripped naked and exposed to the other person's gaze.

His family background and his secrets had already been thoroughly investigated by the other party, leaving nothing to be hidden.

"How many steps do you think it will take for me to resolve this? Do I have to file with the Bureau of Prisons and slowly submit all the paperwork? Or do I just have my lawyer call the district attorney?"

Zhou Qingfeng handed over a business card, then stood up and patted Morris on the shoulder. "Call me when you figure it out. Everything can be arranged within 24 hours."

The 'black and white generals' at the restaurant door also stood up and escorted the boss away.

Morris stared at the business card on the table with only his name and number printed on it. After half a minute of silence, he suddenly jumped up and hurried out of the restaurant.

"Mr. Victor, can you really help my brother change his prison?"
-
An hour later, Zhou Qingfeng took a car back to his apartment in the city center.

Selina, who was accompanying him, felt that the whole night was extremely boring and she was so sleepy that she fell asleep and asked him to carry her back like a princess.

Due to the occupational disease of the Secret Service, Jaeger, who was driving, had something to say and tactfully advised Zhou Qingfeng not to get involved in matters related to the military.

Luxor from the CIA was very quiet and didn't say a word in the passenger seat.

Based on Morris's description, the situation is obvious.

The US government has repeatedly engaged in unscrupulous research under the guise of "scientific research." The military has been the most active, having begun developing biological and chemical weapons during the Cold War.

Back then, due to limited technology, biological weapons consisted of germs, viruses, chemicals, etc. However, after breakthroughs in human genome research, the latest achievements have reached the microscopic level.

Project X is not about studying a specific pathogen or virus; it is actually about studying a method that can be used to strengthen the human body.

The principle comes from 'mitochondria' - according to the currently popular endosymbiotic theory, mitochondria originated from an ancient α-proteobacteria.

This bacterium was engulfed by a primitive eukaryotic cell billions of years ago and gradually evolved into an intracellular part of the cell.

Mitochondria are energy-producing structures in cells and the primary site of aerobic respiration. Mitochondria vary greatly in size, number, and capacity among different organisms.

This means there's a huge room for improvement. If mitochondria could provide even more powerful energy, both human physical and mental strength would be dramatically improved.

Especially after AI technology gradually matured, it became possible to conduct rapid and efficient research at the protein molecular level. For a time, almost all pharmaceutical companies were involved in this field.

The good news: This path of autonomous evolution is indeed feasible; the bad news: its side effects are so great that they almost lead to the extinction of mankind.

Carl said the matter was related to the military. Zhou Qingfeng was skeptical and wanted to continue investigating. Morris said the same thing, so he could only grope in the dark.

No matter how powerful he is, he is not confident enough to fight against the US military or even the government.

How to do?
No way.

The US military has conducted too many unethical and outrageous research projects. The US media often breaks related news, but it has not caused any reversal.

Can the whole world bring down the United States except for a few condemnations?
Zhou Qingfeng was unable to stop a chariot with his bare hands, and could only watch the situation evolve day by day, and eventually usher in the end of the world with widespread misery.

After carrying Selina home, he returned to his room and fell heavily onto the bed, sprawled out, staring blankly at the ceiling.

When the room was so quiet that only the sound of his breathing remained, there was a soft knock on the door.

The door was pushed open a crack, and Julia walked in lightly, sat down silently beside the bed, her eyes falling gently on Zhou Qingfeng.

Zhou Qingfeng didn't look up, but just turned over, naturally stretched out his arms, and wrapped them around Julia's waist, like a little animal seeking shelter, trying to draw some comfort from her arms.

Julia didn't ask what happened, nor did she try to break the silence. She simply raised her hand, ran her fingertips through Zhou Qingfeng's hair, and gently massaged his scalp with her fingertips.

With her comfort, Zhou Qingfeng's tense nerves gradually relaxed, and the chaotic thoughts in his mind also dissipated bit by bit.

The fear of the end of the world and the confusion about the future seem to be temporarily isolated from this big warm embrace.

If you are tired, just let it go.

Let the world be destroyed, I have done my best.

Zhou Qingfeng's heart gradually calmed down, his body sank into the soft bed, and his breathing became steady. Sleepiness quietly came over him, bringing him into the tranquility of dreams.

This is the priest replenishing mana for the warrior.

The phone rang at an inopportune time and the number was unfamiliar.

After the call was connected, a hesitant voice came from the other end. "Hello, Mr. Victor, this is Morris. I suddenly had an idea that might interest you."

"I'm not interested, don't call me." Zhou Qingfeng hung up the phone directly.

Julia saw that the guy had regained his spirits and hit him with a smirk, "If someone calls you so urgently, it must be something important."

Zhou Qingfeng refused to move. "Never mind him. If a day's delay leads to the destruction of the world, it won't be my fault."

(End of this chapter)