Tokyo: My Superpower Refreshes Every Week-Chapter 418 - 416 A Gun in Hand Incites Killing Intent_1
The time in New York is thirteen hours behind Tokyo, so when Tokyo enters the evening, Monday morning dawns in New York.
David awoke inside the tent.
He had nearly forgotten everything about his conversation with the President on Air Force One the night before.
And once again, it was clear that the President was just too old, often forgetting what he was talking about in the middle of the conversation. After a while, he would recover and continue the dialogue in fits and starts. If it had been an ordinary elderly person, I would have thought he was just a kindly grandfather who deserved respect. The President... Forgive my bluntness, but that job really isn’t suitable for Nett. I hope he retires soon after next year.
David rose and unzipped the tent.
In an instant, a multitude of camera flashes went off. He realized he was surrounded by a large group of journalists outside the tent.
"Hello, I’m a reporter from Fox," "I’m a reporter from the New York Times," "I’m a reporter from the Associated Press."
They all spoke at once, their voices a cacophony. Microphones were thrust forward, each reporter eager to be the first David would call on.
This scene left David utterly confused. He had no idea what was happening and could only find the familiar blonde female reporter in the crowd, raising his hand to say, "You first. What’s going on?"
"Yes, Mr. David," Shelia pushed through the crowd and handed him the microphone, her face full of excitement. "I would like to ask, what are your thoughts on running for Mayor of New York?"
"Huh?"
David was completely baffled. A tent-dwelling, temporarily unemployed person running for Mayor of New York? What kind of international joke is this? Besides, if I remember correctly, the Mayor of New York was just elected not long ago.
"I don’t think I’ve ever said I would run."
"Currently, among the three candidates nominated by the Democratic Party, you have the highest support rate."
"Eh, wait, what happened to the former Mayor of New York?"
"He held a press conference last night announcing his resignation. He believes that you, chosen by the Lord, are the only one qualified to serve as the mayor of New York City. The voting starts today."
Shelia’s tone was very excited. She hadn’t really believed the story of David being endowed with Divine Power until The White House acknowledged the existence of the Different World and Monsters. Only then did Shelia start to re-examine David’s deeds. She seriously investigated and found that this man had indeed habitually abused substances and partaken in "zero-dollar shopping"—actions that fit the common perception of African-American men. Overnight, he had suddenly improved and become strong. To say that this didn’t involve the Lord’s blessing seemed implausible.
David still looked confused. He remembered that last night, the President seemed to have told him that he wanted to promote him and for him to work hard. But he never imagined that the President would actually have him run for Mayor of New York City. And the incumbent Mayor of New York had even proactively offered to resign.
"What is your campaign platform?"
David was at a loss. He didn’t understand such things and could only recall his past experiences living in the slums and the teachings of God. He began, "If I become Mayor of New York, I must clean up local security, crack down on the brazen gangs, fight against all sorts of substance trafficking, and forbid anyone from touching that stuff. Cleanse the city’s filth. The most important thing is gun control."
He stated this with certainty. Having lived in the slums, he understood all too well how dangerous the misuse of guns was for people, especially children. Even adults can have moments of rage where they become senseless, not to mention teenagers. They might act out in a burst of anger without consideration, pulling out a gun and shooting a friend who enraged them. Then, once they calm down, they realize they have committed an irreversible mistake. Lost lives cannot be brought back, and their futures can only spiral further into the abyss. Having seen too much of this tragedy in the slums, David hoped he could prevent it if possible.
...
After escaping the press barrage, David continued looking for a job. He still didn’t harbor great expectations about being elected. Although the President’s power was immense, this was the United States, where the President didn’t have the final say over everything. Moreover, his proposals, while appealing to the common people, seriously affected the interests of New York’s upper echelons, making it virtually impossible for him to take office.
David pondered this as he calculated his current finances. Should I try to make my money last a few more days, or should I start saving it? For breakfast, he chose the cheapest burger. Vegetables and meat were just too expensive; he couldn’t afford them.
David stopped at the door of a burger shop and said, "Please give me two spicy chicken burgers and a medium cola."
"Sure."
The African-American female cashier answered. Her bulky figure didn’t hinder her as she assembled the burgers with the efficiency of an unfeeling machine. She quickly put together two burgers and a cola. It wasn’t until she handed them over that she realized the man in front of her looked familiar.
The cashier took a hard look and exclaimed, "David Upchurch! Oh my God, have you really seen the Lord?"
"Mmm, I’ve seen the Lord’s presence with my own eyes."
"Please, you must take a picture with me!" The woman’s face lit up with joy.
David shook his head and said, "Sorry, I’m not some big star. I can’t take a photo with you."
"The first person in the United States to see God! That’s more honorable than any celebrity!"
"I’m not honorable."
David still shook his head in refusal. The fame and fortune of the secular world were all fleeting, like clouds and smoke. He must not sink into them as he had done before.
After paying, he took his burger and cola and left. Walking down the street, he pulled out his old cell phone and started looking at job search websites to see where labor was needed. He bit into his burger, occasionally sipping his cola as his index finger flipped through the job listings. The wages were pitifully low, far below New York’s minimum wage. David sighed softly. This bustling metropolis is just too hard for someone at the bottom like me. So many people come here with their American Dreams, only to see them shattered. The pursuit of freedom and democracy eventually devolves into rows of tents marring the cityscape.
David arrived at a square. Hearing his own voice, he looked up subconsciously and saw his election campaign being aired on the large advertising screen outside a department store.
David looked surprised. What’s going on here? I don’t remember having the money for that kind of advertisement.
"Yo yo, isn’t that my good brother, David? Do you remember me?"
Suddenly, a hand slapped David’s shoulder from behind. A tall man with the same skin color squeezed through, grinned, and said, "I’m Sandy."
David, with a puzzled expression, asked, "Do we know each other?"
"Of course, we do! Don’t you remember? Last month we met on this very street, and I even shared a hot dog with you." The man introduced himself in an exaggerated tone, waving his hand and shouting, "Hey, everyone, come look! This is David Upchurch, the man who saw God!"
As Sandy finished speaking, David grabbed the hand Sandy had placed on his shoulder and squeezed. The pressure instantly made Sandy break out in a cold sweat from the pain, his body involuntarily bending.
David’s gaze was icy as he said, "It doesn’t matter to me how you talk about me, but to use such a frivolous tone when referring to the Lord... Do you think the Lord is someone you can speak of so casually? God loves all people, and people should respect God in return. If you dare use that tone you’d use with prostitutes to address the Lord again, I’ll break your hand!"
"Okay, okay, I got it!" Sandy hurriedly pleaded, feeling as if his hand was being crushed by an elephant, his bones about to shatter.
David released his hand and continued walking forward, unconcerned with the gazes of others or what slander or dirt Sandy might throw at him next. He only needed to hold to his own path. To be a good person. And what kind of person counts as a good person? I can’t describe it with overly profound words. Judging things from the simplest of moral values, if I feel repulsed by something, then it surely isn’t good.
「July 25, Tuesday.」
A hint of coolness brushed against Aozawa’s cheeks in the Tokyo morning. He awoke but had no intention of getting out of bed, savoring the sensation of lazing around. He took out his cell phone and started browsing videos online. Alternating between YouTube and TikTok, he noticed that the interest in exploring Different Worlds and Monsters was still very high among major bloggers, who even concocted many strange and extraordinary incidents.
An inescapable back mountain, a cursed disc, and nocturnal sounds in school corridors. A residence where anyone who entered would be stripped naked by a ghost and thrown out. Oh, that wasn’t made up. This was a real event I wrote in the Book of Destiny last night.
In his setting, there was an abandoned Kazefu Residence in the Arakawa District, hiding a ghost in a white dress who liked to strip the clothes off all who entered the residence before throwing them outside. Its existence was set for three days. His setup was to send three people in on different days and at different times. The three, out of curiosity, entered the residence that almost no one else dared to enter, and then were stripped naked and tossed out.
Today was the second day, and the afternoon was when the recorded man would make his appearance. The morning was his planned adventurous date with Ayatsuki Ayaka at that residence.
Aozawa flipped to his chat history with Ayatsuki Ayaka, where a large OK emoticon sat. Although Aozawa would not use the Book of Destiny directly on Ayatsuki Ayaka, he was still willing to try things like this that could enhance their mutual enjoyment.
Aozawa sprang up, leaped to the wardrobe, opened it, and found a piece of loosely-fitting blue printed cloth inside. The plan was to drape this cloth over himself and Iroha to ensure she wouldn’t be exposed in the slightest. The two of them, naked, huddling in the streets looking for clothes—the very thought excited Aozawa.
He grabbed the cloth, folded it neatly on the bed, then headed out of the room, swiping his finger across a YouTube video and jumping to news related to New York. The Mayor of New York had resigned, with David being nominated for the position and strongly advocating a gun ban; his approval rating soared ahead. In the comment section, there were supporters and opponents. Opponents argued that America is about freedom, so why should people be prohibited from owning guns?
Aozawa mused that with such a campaign platform, the only way David could possibly get elected was if it were written in the Book of Destiny. He slid his finger to the next video and stepped outside.
