“Yo, Master,” Metra greeted John in her typical, carefree way. She raised her hand in greeting, although not to wave, rather for some sort of clap, it seemed. Deciding to go along with that, John moved to give her something along a high five. Only for his hand to be violently grabbed and the ancient weapon pushing him down. Reflexively, he tried to work against it, but the pressure she put up was just too much. Slowly she twisted his arm. Before it got too uncomfortable, she let go. “You should really invest some more in your Strength,” she stated.

John shook his wrist until Gamer’s Body made the pain go away. “I don’t plan to invest my Stats to be better at greeting you with arm wrestling,” he joked, moving closer to the ever-so-slightly taller woman. “Plus, I normally have more fun greeting people this way,” he grabbed the back of her head, fingers parting around her high ponytail, and pulled her into a kiss.

Of course, she could have quite easily resisted, but the berserker babe was too pleased with his manhandling of her. John had figured out that, although she wasn’t submissive, Metra was much happier with him if he just took charge around her. It would likely doubly please her if he did so with genuine physical overpowering, but he couldn’t serve her with that likely ever. At least if she kept growing along his level, there was no way he would ever exceed her physical Stats unless he started focusing immediately.

Metra was harder than his other girls, to no surprise. From her toned muscles, over her tallness, to her character and history, she was just all around a more solid character. The kiss reflected this, the two of them genuinely fighting for supremacy with their tongues, hands groping in ways that were definitely improper for the public.

Thankfully, they weren’t quite public. Sure, the press was right around the corner, but between them was a solid wall and a curtain that functioned as a door, so no eyes to see John but those in the waiting room with him, which were exclusively girls from his harem. Well, also Chemilia and Ted, but those he didn’t mind watching anything, they had already jumped over that line.

When Metra slid a hand into his pants, however, he had to call it there. “Alright, hot stuff,” he said, giving her almost naked ass a slap, “I’m about to hold a speech and I’m not doing that with an erection.”

“Pah,” Metra rolled her eyes, but backed off. “There’s another way to ensure that that won’t be a problem.” She knocked twice on the table that stood in the middle of this waiting room, the implication was quite obvious.

“Sure, but I don’t have that sort of time,” John looked at the clock, only a minute more before he was supposed to get out there. The waiting room was much more comfortable than the trailer he had waited inside last time. Mostly because it wasn’t as cramped. It held about the same equipment otherwise, placed to sit, eat, make coffee or some basic meals, but nothing world moving.

It was quickly reached from the teleporter that he had placed on the White House. Although John very much liked Liberty Island for a background of holding speeches, Lady Liberty atop his palace was quite the imposing sight, that place was pretty busy. Additionally, showing the White House and its restoration process was its own value.

“Well, I’ll head out there now,” John announced and turned towards the exit.

“Wait a sec,” Rave stopped him and got up to make sure his suit was sitting all right. He still stuck to the nonchalant look, with the upper buttons open, revealing a good bit of collarbone, and no neck accessories of any description. He normally wouldn’t even have worn his vest, with such good weather. Given the place where he would speak, however, and the magnitude of the announcements, he felt that it was better to go with the full attire.

“Not like you to be worried about my clothing,” John pointed out, while Rave tugged at his collar.

“Well, Aclysia is occupied, so somebody has to,” his girlfriend answered and gave him a quick smirk, “may just be an excuse for me to do this though.” With that she assaulted his neck, putting her lips down and giving him an aggressive kiss right there. The clear intention was to give him a hickey for everyone to see.

She let go and looked quite content with herself, even after Gamer’s Body must have made it disappear again. “What are you smiling about?” he wondered, touching that place, wondering whether the love bite had stayed despite all logic.

“Ya’ll know its there, that’s good enough for me,” Rave winked.

“I also have this, for anyone wondering,” John showed his left hand and the Lover’s Will mark that stretched from the lowest segment of his middle finger, down the knuckle and the sinew, to the wrist, a stylized heart shape on the base of the finger, all made from dark blue lines. Another glance at the clock made him turn around. “Okay, seriously need to go now. See you in a bit.”

It was the first time in a while that he went onto the stage on his own. Rave said she didn’t want to just stand in the background again, Aclysia was still trying to get Tamara’s apartment situation done, Beatrice was doing paperwork and the elementals just didn’t feel like it. Metra would have been willing to, but she was still wearing only the partly see-through black clothes that would have been risqué even at a beach. As the Gamer wanted to have at least one broadcast where the more morally minded members of the Abyss couldn’t complain about him, he had asked her to stay somewhere outside the camera view.

John took his first step into daylight and immediately heard the familiar clicking of cameras past the metal fence that had been put up. Smiling and waving, he followed the red carpet that led up to a podium about fifty metres away. The sound equipment around was still a temporary set-up, but the podium itself was no longer a mobile, wooden thing. Rather, it was an impressive thing made of stone, part of the very floor, a platform elevated about a metre above the White House lawn.

To his left, John could see the people. The front row was taken by journalists, who had been given extra space out of necessity for their profession. Something that John hadn’t done before, but since he was now trying to make a few friends in the media, it was best to treat them a bit preferentially even outside of dedicated press events. Behind that were simple onlookers, the crowd of normal people who lived in the area and were just happy to see some piece of history with their own eyes.

The amount there, having grown to several hundred people, if not exceeding a thousand, let John feel a bit dizzy from his sense of accomplishment. However, the knowledge, and subsequent view, of what was on the right, put a damper on that.

The White House bore no more direct signs of Sigmund’s destruction. The soot had been rinsed off, the unsavable parts of the building taken away, and left behind was now a clean ruin that was in the clear process of rebuilding. While a lot of work remained to be done, a sort of skeleton structure of the building’s outline was already in place, and the famous centre with the oval protrusion and Roman-esque pillars partially completed. John hadn’t even told anyone he wanted that part to be focused, since he had figured it would take the longest to restore, being the area that Sigmund’s attack had directly hit and basically evaporated. It was, however, great for the optics.

Between the partly restored White House and the elevated grey stone platform stood the memorial to the losses of that war. The details had been increased, by Gnome, artisans and the families of the deceased. In the walls that connected the individual graves of the soldiers, where their names rested, photos had been eternalized with shadow and depth being the only paint. It was quite the masterwork, if John might say so himself. Names were left to be easily read, but from a distance, it created the effect of a flowing collage of memories. Happy pictures, sombre pictures, wedding pictures, they all had been eternalized in some way on the two-metre tall wall.

At the very least, it was far superior to this post-modern (or just modernistic, the line was a bit blurry) dreg that some people called art but mostly boiled down to some metal plates being slapped together into shapes. Sometimes those shapes even resembled something, but that seemed to be, especially in statues, coincidence rather than intention.

The memorial also meant a lot to John, even without the artistic value, who walked up the few stairs on the east side of the platform, only to stare up the central pillar for a little while. The people he knew personally, who had died on his path, were depicted there in greater detail than ever. For him, they were the stand-in for all the corpses he had piled on for his ambitions of, what he at the very least thought to be, a better world.

Oddly enough it wasn’t Terkal or Imerella whose eyes, still and judging, gave him the most trouble. It was Abraham. John wasn’t sure why, just that he felt that way. Maybe the fact that Abraham’s alternative world view could have turned out to be correct in the long run? Maybe that he had died to save John? The Gamer could never know for certain. Hesitatingly, he turned around and walked up to the podium.

“Sorry for the delay,” he started, leaning onto the podium as he liked to do. Having something to hold onto just gave him that little bit of security. He probably looked a bit silly though, as he immediately raised one hand again and reached into his inventory. “As many of you, most of you really, are likely aware of by now, I’ve spent the last two to three weeks travelling our northern neighbours.”

He retrieved a stack of paper from his inventory. Unlike contracts of old, agreements didn’t really fit on a few pages anymore. Instead he held up what almost justified a book binding. “And it was VERY successful. Both the Small Lake Pact and the American-Canadian Trade guild have come to join Fusion.”

The crowd cheered loudly, and John, smirking, raised the paper even higher, which made the people only grow louder. Applause of this level had likely been impossible in a crowd of the Hudson Barrier. People there, even with Fusion’s values, had grown up to fundamentally care about money and influence. Here in the Little Maryland was one of the few places where people still had an education system that taught them they once, in history, almost became the heart of an Abyssal super-state. People with that education were a lot more enthusiastic towards seeing that dream fulfilled.

“That second part is likely coming to a greater surprise to all of you. It’s only been sealed yesterday, so I am happy to make that historic announcement,” he put away the contract. “They were convinced by the arguments I can make apparent at any stage. Fusion has brought prosperity to all those that follow its principles. From the former anarchic territories around New York all the way to here, a free and secure market place, equal laws, equally enforced, and human, excuse me, humanoid rights have made everyone richer, happier and able to take the adventure that is the American Dream. It’s all I ever want to bring to this, my home continent.”

With a moderate amount of paranoia, John looked about the place, wary for any assassins that might jump out of the crowd and shoot at him. Normal bullets barely even fazed him, even without Mana Protection, but maybe an enemy would create some special ammunition developed against Gamer’s Body, using high-grade materials. It was never completely outside the realm of possibility. As far as he was aware, not even a headshot would straight-up kill him, though. He had recovered his spine before, so his brain shouldn’t be that much different. Something that would blast away his whole head maybe could murder him immediately, he had no experience with that, but he liked to think it would just deal a truckload of damage to his HP.

He noticed he hadn’t said anything in a few seconds and continued, “Fusion’s total size has exceeded over a hundred thousand people. It is high time that I let them properly be represented in a governing body, rather than make all decisions on my lonesome. Soon, we’ll release a clear breakdown of how the federal system will be designed and who will be elected in what way. After some further discussion, it has become quite clear that the previously suggested system has been a bit simplistic. Hopefully, this won’t overcompensate.

“However, before I and my government can deliver on this, I must inform all of you that I will be taking a break from all public affairs until next Friday. The main reason for this is because my birthday is coming up. Generally, I must say I can just use a proper break where I have nothing lingering at the back of my mind. The recent weeks have been a bit taxing. All other aspects of government will function as normal. You have nothing to worry about in that aspect.”