Tokyo: My Superpower Refreshes Every Week-Chapter 435 - 433: The Plot Outside the Script_1

As soon as it was time to clock out, no matter how busy Morimoto Chiyoda was, she never chose to work overtime.

She left work on time and returned home empty-handed, as the task of grocery shopping had been handed over to Aozawa.

All Morimoto Chiyoda needed to do in the morning was to tell him what to buy that day and give him the money for the groceries.

By the evening when she came back, she could go straight to cooking.

Meat and vegetables were all prepped in advance by Aozawa, who cut them as requested.

As a reward, she always gave him a little extra grocery money, which was meant to boost Aozawa’s dating fund.

When Morimoto Chiyoda opened the door, a handsome young man in a tank top and shorts stood in the entryway. "Chitose, you’re back! Let’s just wear an apron to do it today. Before the traditional robes arrive, let’s satisfy our craving with this."

Morimoto Chiyoda closed the door behind her and said grumpily, "You’re sleeping in your own room tonight."

Aozawa stepped back, the shock on his face as if the sky had fallen. "Chitose, how can I sleep without you?"

"That’s none of my business," Morimoto Chiyoda replied indifferently. She had already decided that the next time she would allow Aozawa to be wild, it would have to be on the following Sunday. "Don’t always think about that stuff. Focus on studying and working out. Isn’t it almost early August?"

"That stuff won’t affect the competition. If anything, it can make me happy both physically and mentally, better preparing me for its arrival."

"If I say no, then it’s no."

Morimoto Chiyoda removed her shoes, placed them in the shoe cabinet, then took the apron from his hand and put it on, asking, "Did you wash and chop the meat and vegetables for me?"

"The rice is already cooked."

Aozawa responded, reaching out to launch a sneak attack, but Morimoto Chiyoda caught his wrist and said with a sidelong glance, "Have I not disciplined you for a few days, or have you forgotten who calls the shots in this house?"

Her voice grew more flirtatious, clearly indicating that if Aozawa continued to act up, she was ready to lay down the law.

Sometimes, there’s little difference between people and animals; to establish authority, important things should be said sparingly.

For example, a powerful empire instills fear the first time it wields its hegemony to sanction others. But if it later brandishes its power at every turn, imposing various sanctions haphazardly, people gradually get used to it. Eventually, they develop resentment towards its hegemony.

Morimoto Chiyoda was very aware of when to get angry and when to indulge Aozawa’s behavior in order to keep him in line.

When she made her stance clear, it was Aozawa who needed to back down, not her.

This demonstrated the sovereignty of the household emperor!

"Fine."

Aozawa withdrew his hand and then changed the subject. "Such a big incident happened at Mount Fuji today. As the Police Director, what’s your opinion on it?"

"The U.S. Army has taken over completely; it’s not under my jurisdiction."

Morimoto Chiyoda shrugged and headed to the kitchen.

This excuse was to mislead those outsiders.

After all, the existence of the task force could still be detected by major intelligence agencies like the KGB.

Morimoto Chiyoda didn’t want to get entangled in those troubles, so she expanded the task force’s personnel. Regarding certain intelligence, she often prioritized the CIA. Furthermore, she wouldn’t make overly complex efforts to conceal some intelligence, instead allowing it to diffuse freely.

This way, she made the task force appear to have no secrets, thus deterring enemies from targeting its members.

To ensure a stable life for both Aozawa and herself, Morimoto Chiyoda made considerable efforts behind the scenes to diminish the importance of the task force in the eyes of the KGB.

At work each day, she engaged in a battle of wits and strategy with others; after work, she cooked meals for Aozawa.

She didn’t dislike this kind of life at all; in fact, she found joy in it.

As Police Director, if she complained about her eight-hour workday being exhausting, those who worked more than ten hours a day would probably want to come and beat her up.

Morimoto Chiyoda busied herself in the kitchen while Aozawa lounged in the living room like a lord. He took out his phone and saw that his class president had sent him a video.

He opened it to find a scene of the class president’s parents arguing about which of them their daughter loved more.

The video was secretly shot near the staircase, accompanied by the class president’s somewhat sinister laughter.

Aozawa really wanted to criticize how the person recording the video had not realized just how creepy their laughter sounded.

Even though he thought this, he still sent a congratulatory message: "Class president, congratulations, it looks like your strategy was a huge success!"

"It’s all thanks to Mr. Aozawa. Without you, I wouldn’t have been able to pick out that lovely suit which made my mother jealous and my father very pleased to show off," came the reply.

"Haha, glad I could help," Aozawa humbly responded. He then switched to the young lady’s chat window, only to find her sending a barrage of emojis, all variations of ’kill’.

What could have set her off?

Before Aozawa could reply, he sensed that a passage had disappeared from the Book of Destiny.

He paused, suddenly recalling that today was the day he had arranged in the Book of Destiny for David to become the Mayor of New York.

"Why are you suddenly sending these emojis?"

While sending the message to the young lady, Aozawa turned on the LCD TV to watch American television programs, checking for any related news coverage.

...

Life can be more thrilling than a roller coaster.

When David was fast asleep in a tent in the park, a crowd of people suddenly burst in, babbling in various tongues.

Confused, David had never expected that an unemployed homeless man with such a contentious electoral platform could actually be elected Mayor of New York.

While David was lost in thought, they pulled him into a spacious RV. There, they removed his soiled clothes, which were almost stiff with grime, dressed him in a brand-new suit, combed his hair, and tidied him up.

A man claiming to be an assistant began rattling off a schedule: what to do at what time, and how he should deliver his speech.

Someone else handed him a prepared speech, respectfully asking him to read from it later, and explained the procedures for the public swearing-in ceremony.

David looked at the papers in his hand and listened to the people next to him nattering away, his mind consumed by one question.

Was this position of Mayor really one he had begged them to let him have?

He glanced briefly at the speech in his hand, his clothes were changed for him, and then the RV continued until it arrived at Times Square New York.

It was now just past three in the morning, a time when Times Square New York would normally have few people.

Today was different; the streets were packed with men and women who had come to watch, a dense crowd stretching out before him.

Whether they approved or disapproved, New York City’s residents were intensely curious about this man who claimed to have been empowered by the Lord.

The majority of them were neutral; their reason for staying up late and waiting was simply to see the spectacle unfold.

If it were not for choosing to hold the swearing-in ceremony at this hour, perhaps even more people would have gathered on site.

The advertising screens on the sides of the shopping centers flickered with various advertisements, and the neon signs illuminated the pitch-black night.

Surrounded by his escort, David walked onto the stage.

Beneath him was a crowd, and every media reporter was capturing the moment.

Someone yelled out, "Upchurch, get the hell down!"

"Go die, you trash!" "Free America! Shootings—no, guns are free too!"

Then there were those who shouted loudly, "David!" "Chosen by God!"

However, those voices were faint compared to the jeers.

David stood there. Amidst the barrage of insults, his sluggish brain finally began to reconnect with his body. He started to get a sense of reality, instead of feeling light and airy as if he were back in his drug-abusing days.

He didn’t know what to say. Perhaps this too was a trial given to him by the Lord.

If not, David could not fathom how he could possibly have become Mayor of New York.

...

Due to the identity David had proclaimed to the public, his swearing-in ceremony was to be officiated by the only African American Cardinal in the country, holding the Bible.

"Mayor David, please sign your name on the Bible, and then place your hand on it.

I will say a line, and then you’ll repeat it after me. Every word you utter will be heard by the Lord," said the Cardinal, with a solemn expression, positioning the hefty Bible before him.

A pen was passed to him.

David took it and signed his name. His signature wasn’t attractive—a scrawl of crooked, misshapen letters, like worms wriggling in different directions.

He never received a formal education, and the only reason he knew how to write his name was that being unable to write made getting a loan difficult.

It was the lenders who taught him how to write his name.

David’s first time in jail was for failing to repay a loan.

The Cardinal wasn’t surprised by the ugliness of his signature; indeed, it would have been astonishing if it had been beautifully written.

Such a signature seemed quite normal.

The Cardinal began to follow the procedure.

But David didn’t want to follow the procedure, instead speaking directly from the heart to the people below.

"Since 1849, signing the Bible and taking an oath of office has become a part of the process for the Mayor of New York.

"However, none of those mayors who came before me have ever fulfilled the promises they made to the Lord.

"They deceived the Lord; they broke the words they said before Him.

"The problem of public safety in New York has never been solved. The problem of poverty in New York also remains unresolved.

"I have no background, no campaign funds, yet I was elected.

"I believe this is a test given to me by God, and I will fulfill my mission and duties with all my strength.

"I will crack down harshly on crime, ban guns, stop the rampant spread of various drugs, target illegal vendors, and heavily penalize businesses that willfully inflate prices and engage in monopolistic practices.

"I will prohibit the spread of various gender identities! The genders given by God are only male and female; there is no third gender!"

If the earlier part of his speech could resonate with some, the last sentence was like stirring up a hornet’s nest, prompting immediate curses and outcries from many in the crowd.

In recent years, various LGBTQ+ groups have risen, and their causes have become widely accepted as ’correct.’ Anyone daring to criticize them would inevitably face collective condemnation.

Amidst a torrent of insults, people dressed in outlandish, demonic costumes began throwing things from their hands toward the stage.

"Mayor David, you were supposed to follow the script. Please leave for now."

The assistant blocked the rubbish being thrown and tried to get him to leave quickly.

Gang members took advantage of the chaos to pull out shotguns.

Anyone who blocked their revenue stream, even Jesus, would have to contend with their shotguns.

BANG! A deafening gunshot drowned out the cursing of the crowd.

David immediately pushed aside the assistant shielding him, as several sprays of blood burst from his chest.

The TV turned off. Aozawa dropped the remote on the couch and walked toward the bathroom.