Chapter 504 – Daily Abyss, Nightly Son 2 – White House

Chapter 504 – Daily Abyss, Nightly Son 2 – White House



John had to say that, in person, the White House looked a good bit smaller than he had anticipated. It was still an impressive building, the white façade meticulously pure, the pillars stretching decoratively and those tall windows sitting in a perfectly even array across the three storeys as the American flag waved on a flag post atop the roof.

However, he wasn’t here to walk into this version of the White House. John didn’t know Trump or whoever would succeed him, neither did he have any real interest in real world politics since they didn’t affect him. Old John’s only interest in politics had been whenever people decided video games were to blame for the most recent school shooting. New John made his (untaxed) money through magic, lived in a dimensional pocket on government property, sold items on an international black market (for most intents and purposes that was what the Abyss Auction was) and fully intended to marry as many girls as he wanted in his lifetime.

So, as great as it was to look at this building, John was his own government and did not care for the authority it represented. “Compared to Abyssal architecture, it is rather unappealing,” Lydia put her own thoughts into words.

“It’s like looking at the shrivelled up cock of a nudist on Antarctica after giving blowjobs to John for the whole day,” Eliza agreed. The metaphor was as odd as they came, but it was hard to disagree with that.

Those two were the only ones with him at the current time. Mostly because nobody was interested in politics. To be fair, neither was Eliza, and Lydia just accompanied him because he asked, wanting to stay as much out of official affairs as possible for the remainder of her stay. The reason why he wanted these two to come with him was quite easy.

It would be complete suicide to ambush him while these two were around.

“Alright, let’s check on the other side then,” John stated and raised his hand.



In essence, everything John looked at stayed the same. The fence, the trees, the house, even the bodyguards, they all stood at the exact same spot as their real-world counterparts. However, there were numerous differences despite that. As if someone had decided to take the textures and decided to design a White House +5, everything was amped up in its luxuriousness.

The house got lines of gold framing wherever it could get away with, the trees themselves had leaves of silver and platinum colour while the grass was a wonderful light green with tips of blue. Not all of it was a display of vanity, however, as the golden lines formed intricate patterns that doubtlessly served some magical purpose. It was impressive, exuded an aura of power and was build on the backs of an overtaxed working class.

At first glance this building, along with what else he had gathered so far, gave John a pretty easily identified enemy around here. Even with that knowledge, things weren’t that clear-cut.

Technically, the military was still part of the government, so the fact that he liked Chemilia meant that he also liked somebody who was part of this clearly corrupt ruling apparatus. Also, the people here still lived way better than the average folk had over in New York, and if he just went in and smashed this whole thing, there was no telling what chaos it could cause.

What the best way to handle this thing was would be shown only in the future. For now, he had a meeting with the leader of this golden heap. Afterwards, when he had a better grasp of the situation, he could try to come up with a scheme. “Alright then,” he announced and they walked up to the guard at the door.

It only took a moment to inform the man that he was there and that he had an appointment. The trio was escorted across a walkway and into the building, then through the numerous walkways inside and finally into the historic room, the Oval Office.

It was lacking all of the artefacts of past presidents John was roughly aware of through media consumption. The pictures and busts of other people were decorating the walls instead, looking not less majestic in their demeanour but having no impact on the Gamer, as he had no idea who he was looking at.

A moment of hesitation struck John when he saw not one but two people sitting inside the room. Of course, there were numerous bodyguards as well, but those melded with the background, unlike the two suited up individuals, one behind the large mahogany desk and the other sitting in a comfortable swivel chair in front of the same desk.

“That would be a long, long discussion,” John commented, “much longer than somebody who has little times for jokes would have today.”

“Yes, so we will have to stick to small formalities today, as I understand you are on vacation,” the president shrugged and looked around the many papers on his desk. While they were nicely sorted, they were still a bunch of folders and stacks. Even in a perfectly arranged library, it could be hard to find a certain book. “I would like to apologize to you for my subordinate’s behaviour at the docks with... where did I leave it...” he opened and closed a few folders and then finally went, “Ah, there it is!”

‘I wonder if that ditzy behaviour is just there to charm me a bit more,’ John thought as he was handed a piece of paper. As he read it, Abraham summarized it out loud, not for the Gamer, but for the third-party present.

“As my act of apology, I would like to offer this non-aggression treaty between the two of us,” the president had a proper pleading, apologetic tone as he explained. “Although you are the head of an entirely new power, the way you were treated on arrival is utterly unacceptable. The details of our states’ relation will have to be settled in a, as we agreed, long discussion, but I would like us to start on friendly footing and leave that little incident behind us.”

‘Well, chucklefucks,’ John thought; once more the presence of the third-party complicated things beyond belief. If he were alone with the guy, he could consider slapping him silly verbally, tell him he was looking right through the ploy and then leave in a pissed stride.

Doing that in the current situation would make the Lake Alliance look at him like an aggressive expander. Which, fair enough, he was sort of looking to be, but his guild currently didn’t have the power to get into a fight with them. He had to tread carefully, while he could dominate probably everyone in this room, his guild didn’t have the military might to back that up on a large scale. “Could I get a glass of water?” John asked to get some more time to think. “Quite warm today.”

“It is indeed,” Abraham agreed, and one of the guards vanished from the room as John read through the contract again.

He had to find a loophole or anything else that allowed him to prevent being pinned down on this. Being unable to expand south for the foreseeable future would limit or at least slow the advancement of his ambitions tremendously. A non-aggression pact was also in his interest, as long as he could wiggle his way out at any point. Basically, he wanted to have his cake and eat it too.

The glass was put on the table and he took a sip, then he found a formulation he could get hung up on. “...Mhm, I would love to sign this, but this sentence I cannot agree on,” he put the contract down and tapped on it so the ambassador could read it. “’The signing parties promise to exert no military force at any point on the ground each other rules,’” he quoted.

“What is wrong with that?” Abraham asked, the ambassador also raising an eyebrow.

“What if one of my people gets kidnapped and located somewhere into your territory?” John posed a question. “I don’t doubt that you would help me fix that situation, Mister President, but I would like my own people to work on such things as well.” The two of them nodded, Lerylia much more willingly than Abraham. “If I may offer a correction?” John pulled a pen out of his inventory and, when he wasn’t stopped, crossed out that sentence and wrote a new one underneath.

“The signing parties promise to exert no uninvited military force on the ground they lawfully hold,” the ambassador read out loud. “That seems like a splendid correction and a splendid treaty all around. As speaker for the Lake Alliance in this meeting, I greatly approve of this.”

“...It does,” the president agreed more slowly. “Would you be willing to sign this with your correction then?”

“Any time,” John assured, and three corrected copies were quickly made, all signed by both the head of Fusion and the Little Maryland. When Lerylia also put her name under them, as witness to the successful process, it was official, and John stored his copy in his inventory.

“A great occasion for all of us,” Abraham said afterwards, smiling widely. Despite John’s little detour, he must have been under the impression that he had just secured his reign from the new outside power.

The Gamer was also happy. As short as this conflict of words and niceness was, it reminded him again what a proper struggle was. It had been a bit since he had actually been challenged on this front. Victory was no longer assured, and as much as that irked his scheming side, the rest of him was ecstatic at a new hurdle to overcome.



And he had built himself the perfect little loophole to get there.