Los Angeles, Long Beach Port.

Rows of cranes stand by the dockside, scattered containers lie on the vacant ground of the dock with their doors wide open, littered with discarded maritime goods. There are toys, bathtubs, home appliances, and even car parts.

The port is chaotic and desolate, the food and clothing at the loading area have been looted, leaving only bits and pieces of packaging bags blowing around in the sea breeze.

The roads leading to the port are blocked by heavily laden trucks, each compartment opened in order. Over the past year, countless people have come here scavenging for useful survival supplies.

Hundreds and thousands have also died here, leaving their remains in various corners of the port.

On the docks of the port and along the nearby coastline, hundreds of large cargo vessels are anchored. There are oil tankers, bulk carriers, and container ships.

These gigantic ships, measuring hundreds of meters, have all been visited by desperate crowds.

Some ships carried food, thus becoming settlements for survivors, hundreds of people crammed on board eking out a living, until order collapsed.

Xiao Jinlang and half the platoon of 'Little Pingtou', aboard the 'Warthog', scoured the port and once found a bulk carrier fully loaded with soybeans.

However, it was like a ghost ship, apart from hundreds of broken corpses strewn around, only the birds pecking at the bodies were considered alive.

On one wall of the ship's deck, there was a graffiti confession written in blood, "God, we have a whole shipful of food, why do we resort to killing each other?"

Beneath the graffiti sat the remains of a human who committed suicide with a gun, already withered to a dried corpse under the effects of sea winds and rain.

One 'Little Pingtou' looked at the remains, asking in confusion, "This ship still has fuel, the seawater desalination devices are functioning normally, hundreds of people could band together to survive. How did they end up killing themselves?"

Old Xiao shook his head, smiling bitterly: "Because despair can drive people crazy, and more so because they were disorganized and undisciplined, everyone was selfish and self-serving."

Gazing at the vessels anchored on the sea, some were completely silent, while others still had scattered survivors. The noise from the 'Warthog' naturally attracted attention from the surroundings.

Some ships raised binoculars to see who the visitors were; on others, people began waving bed sheets or lighting black smoke; public radio channels rang with calls hoping for contact.

For most calls, Xiao Jinlang only responded politely, asking about the situation on the other side, but not offering much assistance.

There was a call directly asking: "Are you from 'Holy Light' with the 'Warthog'? Is President Victor still around? Please save us."

It was in this situation that Old Xiao met the miserable Cervantes and the dozens of Mexicans he brought.

When asked why Cervantes was in Los Angeles, the man emaciated to the point of deformity hugged Old Xiao and started crying.

"Old Juan is dead. We couldn't survive in Mexico; those bureaucrats and drug lords took our 'Warthog'. If we didn't flee, we would be executed."

"I wanted to lead people to Miami to find the president, we set out with over a hundred people, now less than half are still alive."

"When the virus broke out, everyone went crazy, we couldn't get any supplies and were chased everywhere; originally heading east, but ended up going north, carelessly ran to Los Angeles, and then couldn't move anymore."

"I really shouldn't have left the president's side, much less returned to Mexico. I regret it so much, deeply regret it."

Old Xiao appeared healthy and surrounded by strong 'Little Pingtou', Cervantes felt extremely aggrieved. His clan members cried out loud, tears streaming down.

After seven or eight days of good food and care, Cervantes and his people regained their energy and spirit. The 'Holy Light' shelter in Los Angeles gained a fierce and obedient servant army.

Los Angeles is a super port of the United States, despite repeated looting, massive amounts of goods are still piled around the port area.

Old Xiao obtained several long-range Boeing 787s from the airport, trying everything to collect aviation fuel to ensure there was a daily round-trip flight from 'Shanghai-Los Angeles'.

Each flight could bring over a hundred technical personnel and seven to eight tons of equipment and supplies from inland China to quickly restore some functions of the Los Angeles Port.

However, the efficiency of long-distance intercontinental aircraft transportation is too low, so Xiao Jinlang sent a team of 'Little Pingtou' with Cervantes back to Mexico to recruit a group of port and airport operational personnel.

As for survivors local to Los Angeles, due to concerns about reliability, they were seldom utilized.

A week later, Xiao Jinlang, centered in Los Angeles, sent people to Houston in Texas to activate two 160,000-ton oil tankers at the local crude oil terminal, planning to return to the homeland.

Two weeks later, Cervantes successfully recruited over four hundred skilled workers at his hometown, traveling by yacht to Los Angeles to join Old Xiao's ranks.

Three weeks later, a pre-production set of 'Low-altitude Sentinel' departed from Shanghai, airlifted to Los Angeles for the defense of the local shelter.

A month later, the second set of 'Low-altitude Sentinel' rolled off the production line, also transported across the ocean using 'Gulfstream G650', arriving in Los Angeles, then transferred by 'Katrina' to Virginia on the East Coast.

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At this moment, Zhou Qingfeng was on the outskirts of Richmond City in Virginia, crouched within the ruins of the city's broken walls, staring at the images sent back by the drone.

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