Late at night, in the Governor’s office in the Florida State Capitol, Governor Parker stood in front of the floor-to-ceiling window, feeling sowhat excited.
A few hours ago, he had ordered a raid on the ’Electric Flight’ test farm in Miami, and he was now waiting for the success of the operation.
His Excellency the Governor’s thoughts were drifting—he was imagining how to control Zhou Qingfeng through "extre pressure" and give him a good lesson.
There were many tactics, ’fines’, ’lawsuits’, ’exit restrictions’, ’account freezing’, in short, ’creating rules as needed’, to show his tough stance on ’Dongda’.
In the Governor’s vision, he could drag things out with Zhou Qingfeng for one or two years, even if he couldn’t force ’Electric Flight’ to transfer technology, he could still extract a large fine.
However, ti ticked by, the clock in the office ticking away, as if reminding him of the long wait.
Two or three hours later, there was a hurried knock on the office door.
The assistant who entered had a solemn expression, "Governor, the FBI’s operation failed. They couldn’t catch the target."
Governor Parker’s face instantly turned grim.
The assistant continued, "The target escaped in a ’Warthog’ aircraft, but he certainly hasn’t left Florida. We still have a chance to capture him."
"Do we know where he went?"
"The ’Warthog’ is highly maneuverable, and it flew away at an extrely low altitude."
"That bastard designed a low-altitude aircraft, could it be for escaping?"
-----------------
The capture site at the test farm was sowhat chaotic.
Since they didn’t catch Zhou Qingfeng, the IRS and FBI on the spot had to detain Kelly—because she was currently the de facto ’CEO’ of ’Electric Flight’.
Xiao Jinlang had also had a close call, once free again, the first thing he did was retrieve his communication device and report the sudden situation back ho.
Ho imdiately notified the Chinese consulate in the United States, demanding diplomatic pressure on the U.S. side, not to let this industry ’unicorn’ under international scrutiny be oppressed without reason.
As for Xiao Jinlang, not only could he not be angry about being detained, he also had to stay to manage the aftermath left by Zhou Qingfeng, ensuring the situation was controlled, and arranging for imdiate departure if necessary.
Old Xiao felt very wronged because he had no one available—even Chen Rui, who had once roared at him, had to be cald and put to use.
The pressing issue now was...where had Zhou Qingfeng escaped to?
-----------------
kiloters north of Miami, in Orlando.
An old "Prius" bought from a second-hand market was wobbling along an asphalt road, its mottled silver paint reflecting a few tired glimrs in the sunlight.
The woman driving had just survived a narrow escape and was quite excited, chattering non-stop like an endless radio station.
Zhou Qingfeng sat in the passenger seat, silent, staring out the window like a statue, the woman’s voice like white noise, not affecting his thoughts at all.
Having eaten most of the food taken from the convenience store, his hunger was gone, making his mind clearer and calr.
The ’X’ enhancer suppressed his emotions and activated hidden information in his brain, such as a strange list.
The list had a dozen or so nas, each with a series of annotations. He borrowed the woman’s phone to search online for each na in his mind.
Considering he was in Florida, the first na he looked up was ’Ellison Parker’, annotated as the Secretary of State in the post-apocalyptic United States.
This person was cunning, shaless, and had no moral bottom line, yet he was highly talented, skilled in sophistry and incitent.
He was energetic, tireless, bold, and sharp-minded, always finding a way to turn the tables in the most desperate situations.
His speeches were as passionate as fire, able to ignite the coldest hearts, comfort the most exhausted souls, and send the most excited to their deaths.
Because of this, the United States, though repeatedly devastated in the apocalypse, could still, under his propaganda, hunt down Chinese people all over North Arica and throw them into concentration camps.
Zhou Qingfeng’s empty mind was filled with bizarre content, followed by unbearable pain.
As he let out a groan of pain, the woman driving hurriedly pulled over and asked with concern, "Hey... what’s wrong?"
Before Zhou Qingfeng passed out, the phone screen showed a smiling portrait of ’Ellison Parker’ and his current position—Acting Governor of Florida.
-----------------
When Zhou Qingfeng opened his eyes again, he found himself lying on an old sofa, the leather cracked, with yellowed sponge exposed at the edges, emitting a faint mildew sll.
The room was dim, the curtains half-drawn, sunlight squeezing through the gaps, casting long, thin beams of light on the floor.
He rubbed his temples and felt a slight dizziness when he got up, likely a symptom of low blood sugar. He was hungry again.
On the coffee table, a note was pressed under a dirty mug, the edges of the paper torn unevenly, the handwriting scribbled but clear:
"I went shopping; there’s food in the kitchen. I took the money from your pocket. — Lisa."
"Who is Lisa? That woman from early morning?" He glanced at the note, snorted, crumpled it into a ball, and threw it back on the table.
He stood up, stepping barefoot on the cold wooden floor, and walked into the cramped bathroom.
Hot water spurted from the rusted shower head, with a slight tallic sll, and he stood under the stream, letting the warmth envelop his body, washing away the sweat and dirt from his skin.
The mirror was fogged up; he reached out to wipe it, revealing his reflection.
In the mirror, he looked pale and slightly thin, but his muscle lines were firm, shoulders broad, and veins slightly raised on his clenched fists, exuding a hidden sense of strength.
Reviews
All reviews (0)