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

Chapter 288 The Real President!

Both OBM and Vice President Harry could only watch helplessly as the alloy door, supposedly capable of withstanding a nuclear explosion, was slowly sliced ​​open.

The blinding sparks were particularly striking in the darkness.

But at least, the bunker wasn't completely undefended.

Michael Banning led a human wall of more than ten elite Secret Service agents to block the president and vice president.

Armed with heavy weaponry stored in the bunker, ranging from Gatling guns to anti-materiel rifles, their dark muzzles were all aimed at the door that was being cut open.

"The moment the gate opens, no matter what you see, fire immediately!" Michael commanded in a deep voice, holding the Gatling gun in one hand.

This isn't a Hollywood movie; there won't be any cowards backing down to create dramatic conflict.

Every special agent present had undergone rigorous training and was already prepared to risk their lives. For them, death was not frightening; what was frightening was failing to complete their mission and allowing their protected individuals to be harmed.

Time passed slowly in the heavy atmosphere.

One second. Two seconds. Three seconds.
The alloy door, which is said to be able to withstand a nuclear explosion, has been cut open to reveal a human-shaped outline. With just a push, the cut steel plate will collapse, exposing the passage.

But at that moment, the ear-piercing cutting sound abruptly stopped, the sparks went out, and the bunker returned to deathly silence.

"This"

Michael was filled with doubt and uncertainty.

The White House's surveillance system had long been disabled, and they were like prey trapped in a tin can, completely unaware of what was happening outside.

Did reinforcements arrive and scare away the invaders?
Or is the other party playing some even more terrifying trick?

"Ouch!"

One of the special agents suddenly cried out in pain, clutching his neck and grimacing, "What bit me?"

"It's probably an insect," his companion replied.

Michael's expression changed drastically upon hearing this.

How could there possibly be insects in this completely sealed bunker that has undergone absolute sterilization?!
"boom!"

The cut alloy door was suddenly smashed open with tremendous force!

Michael also felt a sharp pain in his neck, but he endured the pain and, relying on the muscle memory he had developed over the years of training, pulled the trigger sharply towards the doorway.

"Bang bang bang bang-"

The Gatling gun's six barrels unleash hundreds of bullets per second, creating an impenetrable metal storm!
But strangely, he was the only one firing.

The other special operations team members stood frozen in place as if under a spell, their eyes vacant, their weapons hanging limply to the ground.

The ammunition belt was quickly emptied.

After the smoke cleared, the doorway remained deserted.

Just as Michael was changing the ammunition belt with a sense of surprise and uncertainty, a dark figure shot in from outside the door.

Before Michael could react, the Gatling gun was snatched from his hand by a tremendous force, and at the same time, a steel-like arm locked his throat.

Rorschach Butcher!

Although they had never met before, Michael instantly recognized the man who struck fear into the hearts of all America.

"Impressive willpower; it actually managed to resist the neural interference from the nanobots."

Rorschach glanced at the blushing Secret Service agent in front of him and shrugged indifferently: "Too bad, what can you do when you happen to be the president's watchdog?"

click-

The crisp sound of neck bones breaking echoed inside the bunker.

Rorschach casually tossed the body aside, as if discarding an insignificant piece of trash.

"Michael!!"

OBM, hiding in the corner, witnessed his personal agent, who had followed him for many years, being killed so easily, and couldn't help but cry out in shock.

What chilled him even more was that the other eleven agents stood frozen in place as if under a spell, completely ignoring the intruder.

"Barack Hussein OBM"

Rorschach approached slowly, scrutinizing the American president with great interest.

It must be admitted that even by normal standards, OBM is quite handsome, and what is even more remarkable is his composure in the face of adversity.

Despite the death threat he posed, the other party only turned slightly pale, but showed no sign of panic.

In contrast, Vice President Harry, standing beside him, was gripping OBM's arm tightly, trembling like a leaf.

Unfit for important tasks.

Luo Xia glanced at the woman with disdain and then lost interest.

"Speaking of which, this is our first formal meeting."

"What, not quite the president you imagined?" OBM replied coldly.

Luo Xia grinned: "No, it's just that it's a bit darker than it looks on TV."

"Heh." OBM responded with a cold laugh, completely losing the desire to continue the conversation.

But Vice President Harry, who had been silent all along, suddenly spoke in a trembling voice, and his first words struck OBM like a thunderbolt: "Mr. Butcher, those executive orders against you were all issued by him alone, and have nothing to do with me!"

She took a half-step forward, her face plastered with a fawning smile: "I know you are dissatisfied with him, and so am I. You probably don't know, but this distinguished president loves to go to LL Island for pleasure, and his favorite girls are Asian girls, especially those younger than his daughter."

"Harry! You—!"

OBM turned his head sharply, staring incredulously at the deputy he had personally promoted.

He never expected that this fool, who usually just laughs indiscriminately, would turn around and bite him at the critical moment of life and death, exposing his secrets!

"Stop pretending, Barack!"

Harry suddenly screamed hysterically, "You even went after your brother's Asian adopted daughter! You're a pervert in the guise of an elite! I've had enough of you!"

"You stupid bitch!" OBM was trembling with rage, but could only grit his teeth and curse.

He knew exactly what this woman was up to!

With an impeachment crisis on the outside and terrorists blocking his door on the inside, his presidency was doomed.

It's either step down or die!
This second in line to the presidency is trying to sell himself out for a chance to survive, and even has the delusion of sitting on the presidential throne.

Especially now that the cunning Underwood is dead.
Luo Xia watched the farce with indifference, feeling disgusted by the Asian-Black woman in front of him with her mouth stretched out like a toilet bowl.

The name of this "distinguished vice president" was prominently featured on the guest list of LL Island!

"interesting."

Luo Xia narrowed his eyes with amusement. "You think you can become president just because Brother Ni is dead?"

“Uh…” Harry paused, then hurriedly assured him, “As soon as I become president, I will immediately pardon you and your companions! Then you can openly enjoy the sweet air of freedom and democracy.” Rorschach shrugged. “Speaking of which, your brain is quite suitable for being a puppet. But it’s a pity, I have no interest in mixed-race people like you, especially those disgusting black mixed-race people!”

Harry panicked immediately, his voice trembling: "Mr. Butcher, I promise."

"You can't guarantee anything!"

Suddenly, a weak yet authoritative voice interrupted her.

OBM was startled and stared incredulously at the doorway.

There, Underwood stood upright, his suit still bearing traces of blood, but the wounds had been sealed with a silver substance.

Although he was pale from excessive blood loss, he strode in with great energy!

"You...you're not dead?" OBM took a half step back in shock.

He was certain that the bullet had pierced the man's lung, but apart from being pale, the man was moving normally and showed no signs of dying.

"I have not avenged my great grudge, how could I die before you!"

Underwood glared at OBM with a fierce look in his eyes, his voice hoarse: "I underestimated you, Barack. You're more ruthless than I thought. If you had won re-election, I probably wouldn't have had a place in the cabinet by now!"

“Frank.” OBM stared intently at the other’s chest, where the bullet hole was now covered by a wriggling silver substance that undulated slightly like a living thing.

"Isn't that amazing?" Rorschach put his arm around Underwood's shoulder and raised an eyebrow at the two dumbfounded people. "Nanometers aren't just good at eating metal; they're also adept at repairing tissues and reshaping blood vessels."

OBM was silent for a moment, then sneered, "I should have known you were in cahoots. I just regret not taking care of you sooner, Frank!"

"Get rid of me?" Underwood roared, slamming his fist against the wall. "Listen, OBM! If it weren't for the party's reputation, I would have ousted you six months ago!"

"You think you can take me?" OBM scoffed dismissively.

“That’s right, me!” Underwood suddenly pulled out a USB drive and waved it in his hand: “Remember Puff Daddy’s cellar? You thought there was only one copy of the surveillance footage? There’s a backup in the safe!”

He pointed at OBM's nose and roared, "If I wasn't afraid of damaging the image of the entire party, I would have sent the video to the media long ago and ruined your reputation, making you bastard rot in prison for a hundred years!"

OBM, who had been trying to remain calm, turned ashen-faced upon hearing this. His hands trembled, and his expression was ashen, as if he had swallowed a fly.

"So you're here to swagger around?" OBM sneered. "Being manipulated by a terrorist, even if you become president, you'll just be a pathetic puppet!"

Underwood's face instantly darkened, then he sneered, "The victor is king, the loser is villain; the winner is supreme!"

He stared at Luo Xia with a crazed look in his eyes: "Luo Xia, can I take care of him myself?"

Luo Xia shook his head slightly, a slight smile playing on his lips: "That bitch is yours to do as you please, as for our esteemed President..."

He slowly raised his pistol and pressed the muzzle against OBM's sweat-drenched forehead: "I'm going to personally send him on his way, to put an end to the drama he, Perari, and Old Joe staged against me a year ago."

The crisp sound of a gun being cocked rang out. Rorschach stared at the other man's face, contorted with fear: "Don't worry, your wife and children are already under my control. If nothing unexpected happens, they'll be penniless in the red-light district of a Kenyan slum tomorrow—you always said you wanted to return to your roots, didn't you? This really makes your dream come true."

"I'm begging you not to take it!"

Bang!
The deafening gunshots shattered the heart-wrenching pleas.

This once glorious president, instead of finding relief in his final moments, plunged into eternal darkness with despair over the fate of his wife and daughters.

Rorschach didn't even glance at the gradually cooling corpse on the ground. He casually tossed the gun to Underwood and turned to leave, completely ignoring the female vice president who was kneeling on the ground behind him, weeping and kowtowing repeatedly, begging for mercy.

A few minutes later, inside the Oval Office.

Rorschach remained standing in front of the floor-to-ceiling window, gazing at the smoke-filled square outside.

The machine inside his earpiece was urging him to leave.

Ten minutes had passed between the storming of the White House and the killing of OBM.

Within five minutes at the latest, federal rapid reaction forces will have surrounded the area. If the situation worsens, fighter jets from nearby air bases will likely have already scrambled to conduct a kill operation.

If he doesn't leave soon, he'll be trapped like a turtle in a jar.

"Huhu."

Underwood leaned against the president's desk, breathing heavily.

Although the nanobots had repaired the lung damage, the massive blood loss still left him pale, with blurred vision, and he now had great difficulty even standing.

Without turning his head, Rorschach said, "The nanobots are altering the memories of those special agents and staff; they will prove that I killed OBM and Harry."

Underwood nodded slightly, then frowned in confusion: "Actually, there's something I don't understand."

"Hmm?"

"You went through all this trouble just to put me in the presidency?"

Underwood gripped the edge of the desk with difficulty. "Do you think I'd do a better job than that black guy? Or are you expecting me to save this country and get it back on track? I appreciate your trust, but..."

"Pfft. Hahaha."

Before he could finish speaking, he was interrupted by Luo Xia's sudden laughter.

Standing by the floor-to-ceiling window, Rorschach gazed at the American flag outside, laughing so hard his shoulders shook and he couldn't straighten up.

You said...save this country?

He pointed to the flags outside the window, then turned to Underwood and asked, "I never imagined I was so highly regarded by you?"

"So what do you want?" Underwood asked in a hoarse voice.

Rorschach shrugged and said casually, "Didn't you ever consider that I might just be doing this for revenge?"

He calmly stated, "The three culprits behind the Puff Daddy incident—Perari, Joe, and OBM—have all been personally sent to hell by me. That's all I wanted."

"Just for revenge?!" Underwood stared in shock, unable to comprehend how such a grand and chaotic undertaking could be solely for revenge.
"Maybe."

Rorschach's gaze drifted into the distance. "I've met many people along the way. Each of us carries the flames of revenge. They have all killed their enemies, even you, old man, have achieved your wish. Now, I have also achieved my wish."

Underwood fell silent, his fingers unconsciously tracing patterns on the table.

He did indeed succeed in his revenge—OBM broke his promise two years ago to become Secretary of State, and now he has not only sought justice in double measure, but has also taken the presidency.

But was this position really prepared for him?
"By the way, Frank."

Luo Xia walked slowly to the president's desk, his fingertips lightly tracing the gleaming mahogany surface, and said calmly, "I don't like your cologne. Remember to change it before you enter the Oval Office next time."

“I understand.” Underwood replied with a wry smile, as if all his strength had been drained away.

As soon as he finished speaking, Luo Xia slowly suppressed his smile, his gaze suddenly became incredibly deep, and his aura changed drastically!
He suddenly raised his hand and slammed it heavily on the table!
"Thump—thump—!"

Two crisp, clean knocks echoed in the Oval Office, the sound not loud but carrying an undeniable force.

Underwood's body trembled violently.

He was all too familiar with that voice; he had practiced it in front of the mirror countless times in the dead of night.

Now, this gesture, which symbolizes supreme power, is being performed so naturally by this terrorist.

That's power speaking!
(End of this chapter)