Time has run out for Liu Zhenming to think too much. If he kills McKinley, he can be rewarded with a hundred merit points. Although Liu Zhenming doesn't know what the merit points are for, there is no doubt that it will be useful.
If you don't kill McKinley, he will be assassinated by others. Now holding a gun and hiding above the hall, you still have no place to escape.
Both sides will be exposed, fight!
Liu Zhenming lowered his head and carefully looked down through the scope on the sniper rifle. It turned out that the position of the sniper rifle had been set and the angle adjusted. All Liu Zhenming had to do was to pull the trigger.
Of course, it would be tragic if he used the gun at will. China has restrictions on firearms. As an ordinary person, he only touched this thing during military training in college.
Fortunately, this guy had no other advantages except being cautious, so he just looked through the sight and guessed the secret - the crosshair was facing McKinley's chest.
Below the hall.
Leon Giorgos mingled among the fanatical crowd, getting closer and closer to McKinley. Behind him was a tall black man. This black man attracted the attention of those who protected McKinley's safety.
Agent attention.
Gyorgos held his breath, suppressed his inner excitement, quietly took out the gun from his pocket, wrapped his right hand with a white bandage-like cloth, and hid the gun inside.
He nervously searched for traces of the guards and found that they were scanning the crowd waiting to shake hands with the president, not noticing his actions at all, so he felt a sense of joy in his heart.
Giorgos is an anarchist. The transformation of the United States from an agricultural economy to an industrial economy has also caused serious polarization between the rich and the poor. Vulnerable groups such as workers, farmers, and urban proletarians in American society are seriously dissatisfied with the government.
.
After Gyorgos lost his job, his heart was full of resentment. Why, why did he have so much power while others had nothing?
As long as he is killed, everyone will be equal. There is no government, and everyone is willing to be an official. To reach the point where no one wants to be an official, the only way is to rely on assassination, and only to start with the biggest officials.
Gyorgos' eyes became determined.
One, two, there were fewer and fewer people in front, and just like that, Giorgos slowly walked up to McKinley.
U.S. President McKinley gracefully handed over his right hand, looked at Giorgos with a kind face, and comforted: "The kind Lord will make your injury recover as soon as possible."
"Really?" Gyorgos showed a weird smile, then quickly used his left hand to push away McKinley's extended right hand, and was about to pull the trigger with his own right hand, and shot McKinley in the abdomen.
.
However, at this time,
boom!
There was a crisp sound from above, and then, Giorgos saw that the right side of McKinley's scalp was bloody and bloody, and a large amount of blood began to seep out. In addition, his scalp was lifted up, and a white
His brain mixed with red blood flowed down his cheek.
Giorgos still subconsciously pulled the trigger.
There were two more crisp noises, and he shot McKinley twice more in the abdomen.
However, who fired the gun before? Gyorgos was a little confused.
ah!
Horrified screams rang out, and for a moment, the men and women in the entire hall fell into disorder.
"The President has been assassinated!"
"The President has been assassinated!"
Shouts continued one after another until the guards woke up from the sudden change.
Foster, the federal agent responsible for the security of the President of the United States, had quick eyesight and quick hands. He immediately discovered that in addition to Giorgos, there was another bullet that was shot from above the hall.
"Son of a bitch, get down, get down quickly!"….
Foster raised his pistol and roared angrily!
The screaming crowd seemed to have found a backbone, and they all lay on the ground in panic.
Dozens of guards swarmed towards Giorgos and pushed him to the ground.
"Quick, there's a murderer above the hall!" Foster saw a black figure suddenly turn in the corner of the roof, yelling at the top of his lungs while firing several shots.
Liu Zhenming on the roof smiled bitterly. He had no military training at all. Besides escaping, could he choose another path?
The sniper rifle in his hand disappeared the moment he completed the mission. If all this was regarded as a game, the sniper rifle just now should have been a mission prop. After the mission was completed, it was ruthlessly confiscated by the system.
.
Whether he had a gun or not, it didn't make much difference to Liu Zhenming now. After he fired the bullet in the gun, he quickly turned around and jumped onto a long cloth without hesitation, trying to take advantage of the chaos.
, slide down from it, and slip away.
The ideal is plump, the reality is skinny.
Liu Zhenming forgot what kind of era this was. This era was when Americans were crazy about anti-Chinese. The Gary Act of 1892 continued the original Chinese Exclusion Act and prohibited Chinese workers who were employed as miners from entering the United States.
Failure to do so was punishable by imprisonment or deportation, and many Chinese were brutally beaten simply because of their race.
In the entire hall, not to mention Chinese, there was not a single person with an oriental face.
Liu Zhenming was so obvious that as soon as he fell, he heard the roar of countless people.
"They are savage orientals!"
"He's an Oriental. He doesn't have braids. He should be Japanese!"
"Do the Japanese want to start a war?"
Amidst the roars, some Americans saw that Liu Zhenming had no weapons, and immediately bravely surrounded him and blocked his way.
When Foster saw Liu Zhenming trying to escape, he raised the gun in his hand and shot him in the right leg.
A heart-piercing stabbing pain came from his right leg, and Liu Zhenming stumbled and fell to the ground.
Got shot!
As soon as Liu Zhenming's thoughts came to his mind, he saw countless angry Americans rushing toward him from all directions. Then, they punched, kicked, trampled, and beat him to death.
No place on his head, face, chest, back, or legs could escape the disaster. What's more, someone specifically stepped on his wounds.
The pain that penetrated deep into the bone marrow was transmitted to the brain center through the nerve endings. Liu Zhenming felt like a small boat in a violent storm, floating back and forth.
Could it be that I had just returned to the United States and had to die like this?
Liu Zhenming wanted to stand up and resist, but his body was obviously no longer under his control. He was covered in blood, his cheeks were red and swollen from the beating, and even the roots of his teeth were bleeding.
Liu Zhenming's meaning began to blur, and he curled up into a ball. There was no good patch of skin on his body.
Foster watched coldly for a long time, and saw that Liu Zhenming was almost beaten to death. Then he stopped the furious people and had him and Gyorgos taken away to the nearest prison.
Here, as soon as McKinley collapsed, medical staff rushed forward to check, and the ambulance would arrive within 10 minutes.
"Mr. President has stopped breathing. May the Lord be with him." The examining doctor raised his head after a while and said to the people around him with an ugly face.
McKinley was shot once in the head and died on the spot. There was no chance of surviving.