“It’s been a while, Director of the General Affairs Office… Well, I suppose this is the first ti eting you in this place.”
“That's right, President-elect Henry. About a year ago, I vaguely thought you’d end up here, but as expected, there are no unexpected developnts. I heard that after your victory was more or less confird, you gave FEMA – the Federal Ergency Managent Agency – a hard ti.”
“Haha, I didn’t expect the Director of the General Affairs Office to say that. But it was necessary.”
“I completely understand. Please, take a seat.”
Late November, Washington D.C., USA. Clear weather. 7°C.
For Henry in this world, the White House felt unfamiliar, even with the mories he inherited from his other-world self. But he was not inside the building, rather in a large office nearby, where the daily security briefing began. While Henry was familiar with the situation, it was a mory hard to recall without a certain level of discomfort.
Shaking hands with the head of the General Services Administration (GSA), overseeing the presidential transition, the cloudy weather typical of Washington D.C. on certain days, the “winner’s letter” issued by the GSA, and the office, operational expenses, and staff allocated by them—all these were events Henry had yet to fully absorb emotionally. Despite his mories of the past, Henry couldn’t help but feel anxiety rather than joy about it all.
Henry Michael Brayton, the most unfortunate president.
A week after delivering his inauguration speech, the president was confronted with a global virus outbreak.
Within two weeks, hundreds of mbers of the House and Senate had been lost, and the president himself had been caught up in the flas of war, becoming a figure often associated with many negative terms.
“Shall we begin the daily briefing now?”
“…My apologies. I got lost in thought for a mont.”
“Due to your enthusiastic ‘request,’ the FBI has been quite active. Of course, I have no intention of stopping them. We know very well what happened at that ti… Before we take more ti, let’s bring in those waiting outside.”
With that, the president left, and a few people entered the room.
The daily security briefing—a privilege and responsibility available only to a small number of people who would soon be captains of the ship that is the United States. These individuals would be briefed on critical, sensitive information, many of which would never be revealed to the public.
Despite the high stakes, Henry’s expression remained mostly neutral. Whenever sothing piqued his interest, a glimr of vitality would appear in his eyes, but even as he examined the hidden side of the most powerful and wealthy country in the world, he continued without any signs of being disturbed.
Naturally, much of the information was already familiar to him.
Thus, he focused on the more intriguing aspects and asked questions.
“The highest secrecy about next year’s Humanoid Expo. This part sounds familiar.”
“It has been disclosed in a form that can be made public, but the exact mill-spec requirents you're seeing now have never been released.”
“I can easily guess where the inspiration ca from. And… I can also roughly guess where this specification can be t. Does that sound too blunt?”
“Haha, not at all.”
The Humanoid Expo was part of the U.S. Departnt of Defense’s upcoming humanoid selection project, a colossal project involving hundreds of billions of dollars. However, the truth was clear—soone would sweep it all up. There were almost no contenders capable of participating.
With hardware specifications that surpassed anything imagined and the software needed to operate them, this was a project beyond the capabilities of this world, which had not yet fully completed fusion or superconductors. The Departnt of Defense’s specs would likely be interpreted differently in this world.
Ten or twenty years down the road, the Departnt of Defense would operate humanoids with these specifications as part of its plans.
‘…So this is the kind of military-industrial complex conspiracy we’re dealing with.’
The issue was that this wasn’t necessarily related to monopoly. Instead, it seed that Icarus intended to monopolize and dominate a new market. At least the good thing was that Henry had so connections with people closely related to Icarus.
Still, Henry wasn’t particularly concerned about Icarus’s movents. Although he didn't know exactly how the company was operating, he trusted his keen mind to conclude that Icarus had not approached him for anything special.
No, it wasn’t that there wasn’t anything, but Henry understood very well that there was no need to dig deeper into it. In a world with more secrets than he could imagine, he knew that there were more things out there than he could possibly fathom.
With that thought, he turned his attention back to the taphorical powder keg.
“It’s better than I expected.”
“Is that so?”
“Don’t get wrong. It’s better than I expected. That troubleso area will be a ss if we get involved, and we’ll never get our investnt back.”
Despite everything, controlling the powder keg of Asia was easier than dealing with China’s troubleso policies.
Right now, controlling the last remaining powder keg in the world felt far easier. With no annoying nations causing trouble by sticking their noses in everywhere, it was relatively easy to isolate the world’s last remaining powder keg.
Henry exhaled lightly, watching the two people leave after the briefing had ended.
December was fast approaching, and Henry muttered softly to himself in a room that had only one remaining aide.
“Has it already co to this ti? I’ll have to prepare. Can you show the December schedule?”
“Yes.”
The schedule was packed—so packed that just recording a week’s worth of plans required three A4-sized sheets. However, they were divided into must-dos and those that could be rearranged, and Henry made a checkmark next to the latter with his pen.
After a while…
“North of New York. Thinking about it, I haven’t been there much since becoming governor. I suppose it’s ti to go.”
“What should I do?”
“Here… I need to find ti to eat around early to mid-December, near the Great Lakes. You probably already know, but there’s soone I need to et.”
“Understood.”
Since the eting, Henry couldn’t help but wonder what the person he was thinking about had been doing for the past year. He was both the head of state and, above all, a parent who cared for those younger than him.
“Well, it’s going to take a while to get to northern New York. Should I check for other ans of transportation besides a vehicle?”
“That’s fine, but… I’ll handle this. It should be fine. Don’t worry about it. What ti is it?”
“8:37 AM.”
“Still good. Please bring a ‘secure’ phone.”
Not his personal phone, but a “secure” electronic device.
Despite the fact that the person on the other end of the line would likely have an electronic barrier stronger than paper, Henry wasn’t overly concerned. In just a few minutes, soone entered with a phone, and Henry took it, dialing the number he had morized.
He rembered the ti difference with Korea—14 hours—and he still had ti before the person on the other end would be awake.
After a few beeps, Henry cheerfully spoke…
“Who is it, Eugene? Is it the shark or the polar bear sister?”
“Sounds like your voice has changed quite a bit.”
“That happens.”
“Heh…”
“Wow, Eugene’s English pronunciation is so sexy, haha!”
“Who called that made Eugene almost run out of the room?”
“I bet it’s from soone important, haha!”
“Eugene scares with that directness… I can only think of his friends.”
“He says whatever to sharks and polar bears, haha.”
A sudden ring from the phone startled Eugene. The person on the other end of the line was going to be the leader of the most powerful country in the world, and if this were a light novel, the author would never write it like this.
Henry couldn’t help but wonder why this had turned into a direct phone call. He almost dropped his nerves.
“Work matters? I was planning to review it quietly on the plane, but thank you for reminding …”
At 2 AM, with five hours until departure.
It was a relief that his wake-up ti was three hours later than last year. It had been 4 AM last ti, but this year, everything felt much more settled. Maybe it was because he had finally t his parents.
It might sound strange, but starting this year, there was no need to get a plane ticket to the US. Icarus arranged a private jet for the players and staff.
This made the departure procedures smooth—no need for customs, no need to worry about duty-free shops—and everything was processed quickly, so there was no need to rush to Incheon Airport at the crack of dawn.
Eugene had planned to sleep peacefully, but after receiving Henry’s call, he couldn’t shake off his nervousness.
“There’s a lot to go over.”
The issues related to Icarus were likely going to be handled by his parents, so no need to worry about them.
But things related to the think tank and advertising still required his attention, especially because Icarus was involved in policies Henry was planning to implent during his first term.
It was a thought that made Eugene wonder if conspiracy theories might co into play. Maybe he had to pace himself when it ca to others, but for now, he had to focus on the tasks at hand.
“Henry wants to apply this technology to develop SSTO, reusable space shuttles, and start exploring space… I wonder if that’ll happen anyti soon…”
The reason for this ambition was clear—Henry had been deeply shaken by the Oga Virus disaster and wanted to prepare a backup platform outside of Earth.
Eugene chuckled at how absurd the thought sounded but also acknowledged that it might be a necessary pursuit.
"Well, I suppose it's ti to get back to the task at hand."
Eugene thought as he continued to review the situation with a clear mind. His thoughts drifted montarily, wondering about what the next few months would hold.
"There's no rush," he muttered under his breath as he prepared to tackle the challenges ahead.
After a few minutes, he turned his attention back to his phone and quickly sent a ssage.
"Things with Icarus will settle themselves, and as for the think tank or advertising, there's no imdiate concern. Hm?"
As Eugene reviewed the ssages, one stood out—an email offering to bring him in for a military survival program called "The One," where he could consult on tactics, mission designs, and possibly appear as a guest participant.
Normally, Eugene would have dismissed such a request without much thought, but sothing about this one intrigued him. The proposal felt far more sincere than the previous one, with clear details and professional tone.
"Well, it’s tempting," Eugene mused aloud, considering his options. "I suppose I should ask Loren Tina about it. She's much better at mission planning than I am, after all. Maybe she’ll have so useful insights."
Eugene thought about the situation with Loren Tina and smiled. She had been an integral part of the team, handling missions with precision, especially in the sniper competition. There was no question that Loren Tina was one of the best at what she did.
As Eugene reflected on this, he felt a sense of admiration for those who operated at a level above him. Loren Tina was a force to be reckoned with, handling the intense schedules of training and managing new recruits.
"Well," Eugene muttered as he composed his response, "I’ll think it over. If it’s just mission planning, I can send a PDF or sothing to help them out."
After sending the email, Eugene stood up, feeling a slight sense of accomplishnt.
"It’s ti to check on those three troublemakers," Eugene mused with a slight chuckle.
He opened the door leading to the lounge, and—
"Get over here!"
"Take us back to Disney World!"
"Wait, do I have to join in on this too?"
"Ugh, what is this, yuck…!"
The three chanical beings, now eagerly awaiting their turn, had surrounded the door, ready to trap him. They had been waiting for him, prepared to catch him at the threshold.
Eugene quickly deduced the situation: he'd been cornered. There was no escape, and the next thing he knew, he found himself tightly bound and settled on the couch.
"Well, this is an interesting way to spend the day before my departure," Eugene sighed with resignation.
It had truly been a dynamic pre-departure day for him.
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