North American riot police: Start by arresting P. Diddy!

Chapter 284 Storming Capitol Hill! The Marines Deployed!

Valentine's collaboration with Cobra has lasted for many years.

During this time, Dr. Cobra's underwater base was mass-producing a special type of phone card for the wealthy black man—a phone card that could emit electronic signals that directly stimulated the human brain to produce violent impulses.

Thanks to the high productivity of nanobots, who can work 24/7 simply by replenishing essential trace elements, they have already produced millions of these phone cards.

Although Valentine himself was simple-minded, his secretary was somewhat intelligent.

Therefore, instead of openly distributing these phone cards, they first acquired a telecommunications company in Europe and distributed them for free under the guise of "expanding the America market".

What's even more cunning is that they don't distribute the aid to random groups of people.

Valentine specifically targeted impoverished and economically disadvantaged areas for precise distribution!
Especially in the past few days, they distributed all their stock of phone cards to the lower classes in several major cities.

According to the latest statistics from [the machine], the number of people currently holding this type of phone card is approaching ten million!

The Hawaiian beach is bathed in sunshine.

Inside a luxurious seaside villa, Valentine was watching the television screen intently via satellite broadcast.

The footage shows peaceful marches in major cities like Los Angeles and New York turning into bloody clashes, with rioters wielding sticks and engaging in vandalism, looting, and arson everywhere.

At that moment, Rorschach's encrypted message arrived.

Upon seeing the word "action," Valentine rubbed his hands together excitedly and strode towards the safe in the corner.

He deliberately blocked his secretary, Blade Girl's, view with his body, and carefully entered his fingerprint, iris scan, and electronic password.

This safe, which is at least two meters tall, contains only one item—a small screen the size of a palm.

This is Valentine's most prized possession: an ultimate switch that can control millions of phone cards.

Simply turn on this switch and enter the key to activate phone cards scattered across the country, releasing radio signals that manipulate human violent instincts.

Even more ingenious is its ability to precisely control the scope of riots by city.

“What a pity,” Valentine clicked his tongue, “the doctor hasn’t built a global super launcher yet. But it’s okay, it’s good to test it in a few major American cities first.”

For safety reasons, he specifically fled from California to Hawaii, just to avoid being affected by his own masterpiece.

"Are you ready, Galahad?" He turned to look at the Blade Girl beside him.

The woman with the blade smiled slightly: "I've been waiting for this day."

Valentine sighed dramatically, "It's a pity it only covers a few cities. Oh well, at least we can see how it goes!"

After he finished speaking, he turned on the display screen and brought up a map of the United States.

On the screen, blue dots representing phone cards are densely distributed across major cities.

The wealthy Black man took a deep breath, his eyes suddenly hardened, and he pressed the activation button forcefully.

In an instant, all the blue dots turned a blinding red!

Streets of Los Angeles.

The Irish brothers, who had initially been observing indifferently, suddenly sensed something was amiss.

The two groups of people who were just fighting rationally suddenly started wrestling wildly as if they were possessed, and the scene was completely out of control!

Especially the illegal immigrants, who seemed to have collectively gone mad, their eyes bloodshot as they swung their fists and attacked with extreme ruthlessness.

In contrast, while some of the American citizens in the march were also emotional, the number of those who actually lost control was far less than their counterparts, and they gradually fell into a disadvantageous position.

"What...what's going on?" Connor's eyes widened. "Did all these people take drugs?"

"Something's not right," Murphy said, equally puzzled. "Why did they suddenly go for the kill?"

The police, who arrived late, finally couldn't hold back any longer.

They had been watching from the street corner the whole time, but they never expected that an ordinary march would turn into such a tragic violent conflict.

Police officers drew their guns as a warning, attempting to deter the mob and restore order.

However, the tricks that used to work every time are completely ineffective today.

Instead of calming the situation, it added fuel to the fire, making the street riots even more rampant.

"Bang bang bang-"

Another gunshot pierced the sky, and the entire scene spiraled out of control.

The streets of Los Angeles were in complete chaos!

"Fuck! Something's wrong, these lunatics are serious!"

Murphy, no longer bothered to admire the scenery, stepped on the gas and parked the car directly in an empty box. The two quickly climbed into the back seat and observed the outside view through the rear window.

Just moments ago, the crowd was merely pushing and shoving, but now they suddenly pounced on the LAPD like mad dogs.

Three Mexicans grabbed hammers from the store and started swinging them at the riot police.

A fat policeman's shield was smashed open with a loud bang, and blood splattered from his face.

"U-mom, f***!"

This guy immediately got angry, and to hell with excessive force, he drew his police gun.

"Bang Bang Bang!!!"

A few bursts of fire killed these rioters who dared to attack the police directly!
The supermarket on the street corner was the first to suffer.

The glass door shattered with a crash, and several thugs rushed in and grabbed whatever they could find.

The cashier tried to stop it, but a case of drinks was thrown at her face.

"Fuck you! What's so great about robbing a convenience store?"

The store clerk tried to stop them from going to the Apple store next door, but when they saw the other person pull out a dark-colored thing from their waistband, they immediately backed down.

"Bang bang bang-"

Gunshots rang out like firecrackers in the streets.

In the dead of winter, a redneck wearing a vest was holding a hunting rifle, firing and cursing, "Go back to your hometown!"

Several Mexicans, seeing this, hid behind cover, occasionally sticking out their guns to retaliate against the old man.

The sirens wailed as they approached, and the lead patrol car was smeared with Molotov cocktails as soon as it turned the corner.

With a "boom," the flames shot up higher than the streetlights.

Two policemen inside the car kicked open the door and climbed out, followed by five or six Mexican men wielding steel pipes.

"This is going to kill someone!" Connor swallowed hard.

He saw black smoke billowing from the gas station and guessed that some madman had set the fuel tank on fire.

The air was filled with the smells of gasoline, blood, and burnt lamb skewers from some unknown barbecue restaurant.

Wait, does it really taste like roasted lamb?
"Fuck?!" Murphy stared in shock.

He simply couldn't understand how things had gotten to this point!

However, what the two brothers didn't know was that compared to Washington, the commotion in Los Angeles was nothing.

"boom--!"

The shotgun bullets slammed into the bulletproof vest, sending the Capitol Police officer flying several meters before crashing heavily into a police car.

The one who fired the shot was a red-faced Southern redneck, veins bulging on his neck, looking like an angry bull. These guys had all ridden in on Harleys from the southern states.

Their hometown is near the border, and every year a large number of illegal immigrants cross the border. In the past, the immigration department would arrest people on the streets every day, and those caught would be deported directly, forcing those Mexicans to secretly do odd jobs.

But now that the immigration bill has been passed, these Mexicans have immediately straightened their backs and are flocking to snatch jobs with extremely low wages, taking away all the jobs of the rednecks' friends and family.

Who can swallow this?

They stormed onto Capitol Hill to demand an explanation.

The Capitol Police were already used to this.

These rednecks are loud and imposing; they often ride Harleys to block the door, holding up signs and shouting slogans.

But over the years, they've never really taken any real action!

Don't be fooled by their shotguns and revolvers; it's all just for show. They might be able to bully the Mexicans back home, but when they run into a tough opponent, they immediately cower like dogs.

What nonsense about "iron-blooded rednecks"? It's all just self-aggrandizing paper tigers.

So when they came to block the gate again, the Capitol Police didn't take it seriously at all and just waited for the local police to come and clear the traffic.

But something strange happened today.

These burly rednecks, who were leisurely sitting on their Harleys, smoking cigars and chatting, suddenly seemed to be possessed. Their eyes turned red, and they started punching the people around them in the face.

Capitol police couldn't stand it anymore and stepped in to dissuade them, but the lunatics immediately turned their guns on the police!
Fists and bullets rained down on him!

"Hey, Shit! Hold on! These guys are crazy, they actually dare to charge in!"

Before the sheriff leading the team could finish speaking, a bald, burly man with a tattoo of the American flag smashed his rifle butt into his face.

Before the blood even splattered, more than twenty rednecks had already stepped over the fallen policemen and rushed up the steps.

The surrounding Capitol police tried to stop them, but gunshots rang out nearby, so they had no choice but to draw their own guns and retreat back into the Capitol building while firing.

"Bang!!!"

The ornate gates of the Capitol were smashed to pieces by a Harley-Davidson motorcycle!
Before the senators in the middle of a meeting could even react, the mob stormed in and overturned their tables. The redneck leader used the Stars and Stripes as a whip, lashing the politicians as they fled in terror!
In the rotunda, priceless paintings were riddled with holes from cigar burns. Mobs grabbed fire extinguishers and sprayed them indiscriminately, white powder smearing the portraits of founding fathers along the corridors. The offices of the members of parliament had long been looted, documents scattered everywhere.

These are all relatively mild cases; at most, they'll just get a few punches.

What was truly deadly were those who, without a word, pulled out their guns and engaged in street battles with Capitol Police, with bullets flying and flesh and blood splattering everywhere.

Gunfire erupted and smoke filled the air throughout Capitol Hill.

Although it is not a revolutionary base area, it is full of the flavor of "freedom and democracy"!

The armored vehicle approaching from a distance suddenly braked.

In the back seat, Underwood, too stunned to scold the driver, was dumbfounded by what he saw—

Screams, roars, bullets, blood, violence.
These scenes were unfolding before his eyes, just like a Quentin Tarantino movie, full of blood and gunshots, only lacking a close-up of feet.

“Shit.” The Secret Service agents were about to reverse and leave when Underwood stopped them.

"Stop right here!"

He watched the riot with a cold eye, his gaze growing increasingly profound.

For politicians, whether in the East or the West, what terrifies them most is sudden mass incidents.

Especially when such events trigger large-scale bloodshed and riots.

And now, what is unfolding before him is precisely such a shocking riot!

Underwood immediately dialed the numbers of his old friends in other cities.

To his even greater shock, similar riots broke out not only in Washington, but also in New York, Chicago, and Los Angeles.

Police were mobilized in full force, but the protesters were all armed and engaged in a shootout with the police in the street.

In the words of his old friend:
"Is this New York or Somalia, you idiot?!"

After hanging up the phone, Underwood fell into deep thought.

This was clearly a "grand gift" that Rorschach had prepared for the president.

But how did things develop to this point?

Could it be that members of the Spectre party have infiltrated the march to stir up trouble?
Looking at the bloodthirsty rednecks outside, he shook his head slightly.

If Spectre is full of this kind of people, then there's nothing to fear.

But he couldn't understand how Rorschach had done it, and his brows furrowed.

"Mr. Secretary of State? Should we call in the Marines and the National Guard?" the Secret Service agent in the front seat suddenly asked.

Underwood gave him a meaningful look: "You think we should send in the army to suppress innocent civilians?"

"Innocent?" the special agents exclaimed incredulously. "But they are..."

"Is this something for you to concern yourself with?" Underwood interrupted coldly.

The special agent was taken aback and wisely shut his mouth.

Underwood calmly lit a cigar and said softly, "This is not your business, nor is it my business as Secretary of State. Only His Excellency the President can make this decision."

He looked towards the White House, and the corners of his mouth unconsciously turned up.

At this moment, the president, who was gloating over the implementation of the bill, must be extremely anxious and restless!
And just as he had guessed, the president was indeed furious, even smashing the crystal lamp on his desk in his rage.

"Fuck, Fuck, Fuck!"

He slammed his fist against the wall, and blood seeped from his fingers.

Unprecedented riots broke out simultaneously in the top five cities in the country!
The death toll, as seen on television broadcasts alone, has already exceeded double digits.

He simply couldn't imagine what the actual casualties would be!
"Your Excellency, we can no longer hesitate!"

Even before Special Agent Michael Banning arrived, anxious shouts could be heard.

He burst into the office, shoving the surveillance monitor in his hand at the president: "Right now, it's not just the Capitol; the demonstrators outside the White House are going crazy, charging through the police cordon. They've even started scaling the walls and breaking into the park. This is no ordinary protest movement; we must crack down hard! If they weren't unarmed, I would have already sent you to the bunker!"

"what?!"

The president rushed to the window and looked out.

Sure enough, groups of menacing thugs were brutally beating the special agents.

This group completely lost their minds and attacked anyone they saw, whether they were special agents or fellow protesters, they beat them with fists and feet without any mercy!
"Marine Corps base is only 15 miles from the White House, a 20-minute drive! The FBI rapid reaction force is already assembled! National Guard units in various cities are also preparing!"

Banning reported rapidly, "We're just waiting for your orders!"

The president's expression shifted between anger and uncertainty. Undeterred, he asked, "What about Frank? What about Johnson? They also have the authority to mobilize troops."

"We can't contact anyone," Ban Ning replied truthfully.

The president clenched his fist in silence, and finally, with no other choice, issued the order:

"Notify the Marine Corps and Rapid Reaction Forces to immediately proceed to major government facilities to quell the riots. Order the National Guard to impose a curfew in the rioting cities and carry out a full-scale crackdown!"

What kind of ammunition should be used?

"rubber."

The president, halfway through his speech, caught a glimpse of the live ammunition in the hands of the rioters on the surveillance footage, and gritted his teeth as he changed his tune:
"Fuck them! Let them figure it out themselves!"

(End of this chapter)