The moment he saw the line of text, Meadows shuddered. He quickly regained his composure, but his trembling hands still betrayed his inner turmoil.
This was a directive from the Supreme Commander of the Salvation Army!
Issued personally by the Savior, the Commander who had saved the world on multiple occasions!
Issuing a mission directive personally to him, a mere private in the Salvation Army!
As one of the earliest members of the Salvation Army, Meadows yanked at his tie, finally feeling like he could breathe a little easier.
The news was simply too shocking.
He immediately began to read the instructions that followed.
To his surprise, however, the directive that followed consisted of a single, very brief sentence:
Bring a pen into the Oval Office.
’A pen?’
Meadows froze. Then he noticed a pen sitting on his desk.
It was a silver-gray pen with a sleek, modern design that looked quite unique.
He didn’t remember owning a pen like this.
Meadows pulled off the cap and casually drew a line on his desk. A clear, black ink stroke appeared instantly.
The pen wrote very smoothly. ’It’s a good pen.’
’But why would the Commander order him to bring this pen into the Oval Office?’
Meadows’s expression turned grim as all sorts of ideas raced through his mind.
He recalled that during the Cold War, Eagle Country and the Soviet Union had manufactured things like pen guns and poison needles, capable of killing someone covertly.
In fact, just a few years ago, the Russians had used a poison needle, housed in a pen-like launcher, to assassinate Skripal.
’Does the Commander want me to kill... to kill the man in the Oval Office?’
’Or is this just a weapon? Am I only responsible for bringing it into the Oval Office, while someone else carries out the assassination?’
’The President of the world’s foremost superpower, assassinated in his own office?’
’If that happens, it will plunge the world into chaos!’
’Eagle Country would be the first to suffer!’
’It could even trigger a civil war!’
’After all, the conservative factions would probably blame the Democratic Party for everything. Would it spark another civil war?’
Thinking of the power of the "True Apocalypse Game" developer who controlled everything from the shadows, of the omnipresent and formidable might of the Savior Army Commander, Meadows couldn’t help but tremble.
’What exactly is the Commander trying to do?’
Although he had seen the potential catastrophes awaiting humanity in the "True Apocalypse Game," and had witnessed the Commander’s real-world efforts to turn the tide against disaster, Meadows still found it impossible to betray his country and assassinate his own President.
It went completely against the principles he held dear.
’Then again, the Commander must have his reasons for doing this... Or maybe he’s foreseen that the President’s actions will worsen the global situation and lead to a third world war?’
’No, maybe the Commander just has his own selfish reasons. Maybe he wants... wants to do something I can’t even begin to fathom?’
Meadows was torn. On one side was his trust and admiration for the Commander; on the other was his patriotism and loyalty to his country.
The choice was agonizing.
Perhaps he should report the existence of the "True Apocalypse Game" to the man in the Oval Office, report it to the Pentagon, and put the White House on alert.
’At the very least, the Special Service Bureau should heighten security...’
With that, Meadows opened his computer. After passing several extremely complex fingerprint and password authentications, he logged into the White House’s internal network and began entering information about the "True Apocalypse Game" and the Salvation Army into a reporting system.
Before, he had been single-mindedly devoted to following the Salvation Army and saving the world. But now that his country and his President were involved, everything was different.
In the end, he chose his country.
"Sigh..."
Just then, a sigh echoed through his office. Meadows froze, the hair on the back of his neck standing on end as cold sweat beaded on his skin.
He was alone in the office. How could there be another person’s voice?
As he reeled in shock and suspicion, another, softer voice spoke:
"You chose to remain loyal to your duty in the end. I don’t know whether I should praise you or pity you."
It was then that Meadows finally realized the voice was coming from the pen right in front of him!
"Commander? Developer? Is that you?! Please forgive my impertinence... Why did you give this order? Is the man in the Oval Office going to destroy the world?"
Realizing the sound was coming from the pen, and understanding that it must be some kind of communication device, Meadows actually felt a sense of relief. He asked respectfully.
"Perhaps I should have fabricated a prophecy about a blond boy destroying the world. That might have allowed you to act with a clearer conscience. But deception is not my forte. The reason I must act against the blond boy is simply because he stands in the way of my uniting all of human civilization."
The voice from the pen was calm and brooked no argument. Meadows’s expression grew heavy as he replied slowly.
"Commander, forgive me, but I cannot obey... That reason sounds more like the excuse of an authoritarian... While I admire everything you’ve done for the Human World, I am also one of the Eagle Country People. I cannot betray my homeland... Assassinating the President is the ultimate act of trea—"
Before he could finish his sentence, Meadows suddenly swept a folder across his desk, sending the pen flying, and bolted for the door.
’Whether that pen is a communication device, a weapon, or a bomb, as long as I get out of this office, I’ll be safe for the moment.’
He had to report to the President immediately!
With Eagle Country’s technological and military might, the strongest in the world, they could surely find the developer of the "True Apocalypse Game"—the Commander of the Salvation Army—hiding in the shadows.
But just then, the office door flew open. A young woman holding a file rushed in and slammed right into Meadows, actually knocking him backward.
"I’m so sorry, Mr. Chief of Staff! Are you all right?"
The young woman immediately moved to help Meadows up, apologizing profusely.
Meadows instantly recognized her. It was the new White House intern, Lewinsky.
"Quick, get out of here! Alert the Special Service Bureau!" Meadows shouted, only to find his arm seized in a tight grip, as if caught in an iron vise.
The heavy wooden door swung shut again. Lewinsky was still apologizing.
"I’m sorry to have put you in such a difficult position, but you won’t have to choose for much longer. The Commander will make the final decision for you by sending one of the President’s dearest friends to his side..."
Meadows’s eyes widened in horror. He instantly understood what she meant.
This Lewinsky was also a member of the Salvation Army!
He asked subconsciously.
"What... what dearest friend?"
In the next instant, Lewinsky’s face melted like a candle, reforming in the blink of an eye into the face of a handsome, middle-aged man.
The man wore a warm smile. He had salt-and-pepper hair, a large nose, and a full beard, making him look like a kind philanthropist.
"Ep... Epstein!?" Meadows’s voice trembled as if he had seen a ghost.