I planted a sacred tree in Tokyo.

Chapter 215 Guarding the Commander

Los Angeles,
"fxxx!"

An agent in a pink suit and purple tie, who was enjoying afternoon tea, suddenly sprang to his feet.

Amidst the whispers of the refined 'upper class' around him, the man's expression shifted between light and shadow, as if he had suddenly heard that his wife had cheated on him with her boyfriend, his face filled with disbelief.

"Sir, please be mindful of your manners in public."

"What the hell!"

However, the agent had no time to listen to the waiter's nonsense; the cold voice of 'Space' echoed in his mind.

This real-world mission is mandatory and all experienced personnel must participate: You must be within 100 meters of the mission objective within 12 hours; otherwise, the mission will be considered a failure.

'For each day the Grand Commander survives, all veteran participants in the mission will receive 20 points.'

'The Grand Commander is dead. All veteran members will have 1000 points deducted!'

'Insufficient points; spatial enhancement will be removed.'

? !
"1000?"

"1000 points!"

"Isn't this going to kill me?!"

The agent in the pink suit couldn't help but curse out loud. Most of the 'veterans' in the space usually only have a few points left for emergencies. Who would have time to keep 1000 points? Wouldn't it be better to strengthen themselves?

Even if they don't have enough points, the system won't 'eliminate' them.

Instead, he withdrew all his power: but that was worse than killing them!

Having enjoyed the conveniences brought by extraordinary powers, are they really expected to return to being 'ordinary people'?
It's impossible!

This man used to be just a low-level agent, leading a few minor actors from one company to another, squeezing in every opportunity and being obsequious. Now, with just a word from him, he can secure a role in a Hollywood blockbuster, and he is already a powerful figure in the eyes of many stars.

Should we send him back to living in shelters and sleeping in parks like he used to?

He would rather choose death!

"gentlemen."

Tear

Just as the waiter was wondering if this person had just been using marijuana in the restroom, the sound of clothes tearing rang out.

The agent's pink suit jacket suddenly bulged at the back and then ripped cleanly.

brush--

A pair of two-meter-long wings unfolded, bat wings radiating a crimson light, covered with a membrane, and with sharp tips. Standard demon wings!

With a powerful push off the ground, the agent's outstretched wings flapped suddenly, propelling him into the sky.

Bang!
Wow~~
The shattered roof rained down fragments, hitting the stunned waiter head and face.

who am I?
Where am I?

what am i doing?
In an instant, not only the waiters, but also the other customers whose coffee and tea had been blown away by the gale stared blankly at the hole in the roof: the customers who had been enjoying afternoon tea with them just a second ago had suddenly grown 'devil wings' and crashed through the roof and flown out.
Isn't this America?
Nevada,

A heavy truck repair shop

The large hand that was tightening the screws paused, and a dark-skinned worker crawled out from under the car.

"What's wrong, the silencer?"

The white boss, who was reviewing the documents, was taken aback.
While many Black Americans are, to put it nicely, free-spirited and undisciplined, or to put it bluntly, social scum, there are also some who are down-to-earth and willing to work hard. This big Black man nicknamed "Silencer" is an example; he is a hardworking auto mechanic.

"Sorry, boss."

The usually taciturn Black man spoke up. Because of their appearance, many Black men aged 15 to 45 look the same, but the man in front of him was clearly middle-aged.

His voice was calm and gentle, giving the impression of a good family man.

"I have an urgent matter to attend to."

"Ah, is this your son?"

The boss knew that the worker had a sickly son, and all the money he earned went into his son's medical treatment: this was simply unimaginable in the Black community!
After all, most Black people don't know who their fathers are.
"No,"

The tall worker walked over and apologized to the boss.

"I need your plane, boss."

As he spoke, the old black worker nicknamed 'Silencer' snapped the wrench in his hand.

Cluck cluck,

With a metallic bending sound, the large alloy wrench was crumpled into a ball.

? ?
"This way, please."

Without the other party saying anything more, the white boss rationally led them to the side: his private jet was parked behind the repair shop.

America has 15095 airports, far exceeding Brazil's 4093, which ranks second. This number sounds staggering at first glance, but most of them are not the large airports that people imagine, filled with various passenger planes and people coming and going. Instead, they are small airports mainly used for private flights, agricultural flights, law enforcement flights, and the like.

To put it bluntly, the conditions at these airports are such that simply paving the roads would suffice.

Anyway, it's just a matter of taking off and landing pesticide spraying planes or small private planes.

For America, a country with a vast land area and a sparse population, short-distance driving and long-distance flying are commonplace.

So they didn't invest heavily in building high-speed rail: for the same reason, the issue of cost-effectiveness.

"May I ask?"

The white boss was suddenly 'hijacked' onto the plane by his usually honest and law-abiding subordinate. As they prepared for takeoff, he asked the boss questions in confusion.

"What are you going to do?"

Faced with the boss's question, the black man codenamed 'Silencer' thought for a moment.

"Save the country."

???

Chicago, Texas, Arkansas, Florida.
All sorts of people suddenly put down their work and rushed to the east coast of America at full speed.

The power bestowed by the space had long been integrated into their lives; now, suddenly receiving a 'real-world task,' they naturally carried it out without hesitation.

Moreover:

Protect the President
For most Americans, the order did not elicit much resistance.

Sigrún has taught at the Iceland University of the Arts as a part-time lecturer since and was Dean of the Department of Fine Art from -. In – she held a research position at Reykjavík Art Museum focusing on the role of women in Icelandic art. She studied fine art at the Icelandic College of Arts and Crafts and at Pratt Institute, New York, and holds BA and MA degrees in art history and philosophy from the University of Iceland. Sigrún lives and works in Iceland.

I was so stupid, really.

"I only knew that space missions were lurking and mysterious, but I didn't know that real-world superhumans could also trigger missions."

A woman in a red robe, who had triggered a "nationwide real-world mission" by accidentally reading someone else's memories, sat in the cabin, choking back tears. She could already imagine the fury of the veterans who arrived and learned the truth, wanting to tear her apart alive.

1000 points!

How could anyone possibly produce that?

If the mission fails, everyone will be reduced to their original state: this hatred.
"Ahem, priestess."

The gambler, barely able to suppress the smirk on his face, spoke, his tone brimming with pleasure.

"Please don't worry,"

“I have already spoken with the ‘Agent’ and he will keep this a secret.”

"As long as we don't say anything, no one will know that you were the one who triggered this 'real-world mission,' so..."

"I see,"

Fiona raised her lifeless eyes.

"I will give it my all for the next task: I really lost big this time!"

It seems absurd that a Scotswoman would risk her life for the American president, but who told her to trigger this 'mandatory' real-world mission? Although there are also adversarial missions in Nightmare Space, everyone is relatively 'harmonious'; if you can't win, you can simply admit defeat and save your life.

But this time.
If we lose, we'll all go to jail.

"Great! With everyone's help, we will definitely get through this."

The blond youth, codenamed 'Gambler,' clapped his hands with a smile; originally, he had spent a lot of points, but could only hire 'Priest' alone.

Now that the space is issuing mandatory missions, all veterans will participate: this fighting force is enough to overthrow any regime except for a few major powers.

only:

After the initial joy, another problem arose.

How powerful must the enemy be to issue such a mission through space?
Sigrún has taught at the Iceland University of the Arts as a part-time lecturer since and was Dean of the Department of Fine Art from -. In – she held a research position at Reykjavík Art Museum focusing on the role of women in Icelandic art. She studied fine art at the Icelandic College of Arts and Crafts and at Pratt Institute, New York, and holds BA and MA degrees in art history and philosophy from the University of Iceland. Sigrún lives and works in Iceland.

"What? It failed?"

"You actually have the nerve to come back—" In the church on Governor's Island, upon hearing the report from the people in front of him, old Edgar almost flew into a rage and killed them on the spot.

Faced with Old Edgar's wrath, the few members of the 'Hounds' who knelt on one knee were speechless: the four 'Favored Ones' and eight 'Deep Ones' had gone to capture a fellow who had offended the church, but not only had they failed to capture him, they had also suffered more than half of their own casualties.
Not feeding them directly to that person was already quite magnanimous.

"It's not entirely their fault,"

Professor Ramley, holding a tablet, spoke slowly as he swiped his finger across the tablet.

The above shows the equipment carried by these people, as well as the video captured by the surveillance equipment of the roadside restaurant.

Although many images are just blurry afterimages due to the high-speed movement of superhumans, the abilities used, the effects caused, and the traces left behind are all valuable information.

"The first enemy,"

"It has a body made of 'black lines'."

"He can use these lines to construct various weapons, making his combat methods very flexible."

As he spoke, Dr. Ramley paused the video and handed it to old Edgar.

"look,"

"Father George?!"

Old Edgar was surprised to see a 'familiar face' emerging from the enemy's body.

The mystery has been solved.

After receiving confirmation from Edgar Sr., Dr. Ramley nodded.

"The other party can acquire the abilities of others by seizing their 'hearts': is it imitation? Devouring? Or some other type?"

"The second enemy that arrived had bat transformation, forced hypnosis, and blood explosion abilities—all very typical 'vampire' abilities."

"Their strength is roughly between D+ and C, requiring a 'bishop' level to deal with them."

"Two,"

Just as Edgar Sr. and Dr. Ramley were analyzing the situation, Colonel Anderson strode in.

"His Majesty has heard about this mistake and is very dissatisfied with us."

"The plan to invade Japan shall commence immediately!"

? !
"Yes," X2
The two bowed their heads and accepted the order. Although the incident happened because no one expected the other side's "reinforcements" to arrive so quickly, they would definitely take the blame.

Surely Your Majesty isn't going to have to carry it?

Her Majesty the 'Hidden Lady' is infallible; the only ones who can be wrong are them!

But launching the plan now seems a bit too hasty.
Sigrún has taught at the Iceland University of the Arts as a part-time lecturer since and was Dean of the Department of Fine Art from -. In – she held a research position at Reykjavík Art Museum focusing on the role of women in Icelandic art. She studied fine art at the Icelandic College of Arts and Crafts and at Pratt Institute, New York, and holds BA and MA degrees in art history and philosophy from the University of Iceland. Sigrún lives and works in Iceland.

Washington,
Full name: Washington, D.C.

The Potomac, the capital of the United States of America, is located in the mid-Atlantic region on the eastern coast of America, with the Potomac River flowing through the city from northwest to southeast. It is home to most of the federal government agencies of the United States and the headquarters of international organizations such as the World Bank, the International Monetary Fund, and the Organization of American States.

If New York is the economic center of the planet, then Washington is its political heart—though that may be an exaggeration, it's not entirely without merit.

For centuries, every instruction issued from here has influenced the movements of the entire planet.

However, recently, the 'authority' of the city's decrees has been continuously weakened.

In the heart of this city lies the renowned:
"White House,"

As the car drove onto Pennsylvania Avenue, Fiona couldn't help but sigh as she looked at the white, classical sandstone building in the distance.

"I never imagined that one day I would set foot here."

"If you like, you can stay here permanently—"

The red-haired girl shook her head slightly at the gambler's words, or rather, his solicitation.

"No,"

"It's just a marble palace of power."

This quote refers to the American proverb, "Money is but a sculpture of sand, power is a marble palace." However, even this marble palace is now in jeopardy in the face of the power of the extraordinary.

"Mr. Gambler, may you now reveal your identity?"

The 'agent' in the carriage spoke calmly. The other party was so actively working for the American leader and brought them here without any obstacles. His identity must be extraordinary.

"no problem,"

“My name is Awenche, a businessman in Las Vegas.”

"He is also the deputy director of the Secret Service."

really,

Fiona and Mike were not surprised at all.

The American Secret Service, originally an agency to combat counterfeit currency, later expanded its investigations to include fraud against the government: illegal alcohol production, smuggling, mail truck robbery, and land fraud. The infamous Ku Klux Klan was taken down not just because of discrimination, but because they threatened America's financial resources.

Later, thanks to a certain president with a "bizarre idea," the Secret Service added another task:
"To protect the safety of the President of America."

"This is my duty."

The flashy blond youth parked the car outside the White House and got out.

"Entering the 'space' was just an accident."

"Please, gentlemen—"

As the three crossed the large grassy area ahead and approached the white building, several men in black suits came to greet them.

"Stop,"

"Please show your visitor pass."

?

"Feel sorry,"

The blond youth's smile vanished as he removed his brown sunglasses.

"I didn't hear what you just said. Say it again."

Please show it—

Bang! !

A violent fist struck the man in the black suit's chin, twisting his jaw at a terrifying angle and shattering his bones instantly, leaving him only able to eat liquids for the rest of his life!
If he has a next life:

“f——”

Thud, thud, thud, thud!

Before the other horrified men in black suits could react, lightning-fast fists landed on their chins.

Hitting the chin can cause brain concussion and can instantly cause fainting.

But the gambler's powerful punch...

It shattered their jaws in an instant!
Whether these unlucky guys who were sent flying backwards will ever wake up is a big question.

"Excuse me, gentlemen."

"No need for explanations, let's charge in!"

Fiona sighed, her body transforming into a swarm of bats that rushed into the white building before her like a whirlwind.

Almost all the bats were just 'illusions', except for one, which was Fiona's true form.

This method is used for reconnaissance, which can both confuse the enemy and allow for rapid maneuver.

Without further ado, the gambler and the agent pushed off with their feet, outrunning the cheetah's full speed, and rushed into the White House.

As the passing clerks stared in disbelief, three blurry figures swept past, swirling up countless skirts and documents, heading straight for the 'Presidential Office' on the second floor of the main building—

Bang!
The door was kicked open with a bang, spinning and falling onto the blue carpet, covering the eagle surrounded by 50 stars.

?

The violent breaking down of the door caused everyone in the office to turn their heads.

"It was you, Chief."

The gambler's gaze swept across the room and spotted a group of familiar faces.

as well as:

The blond old man was pressed onto the president's desk by these acquaintances.

Upon seeing the 'gambler' burst in, the man's eyes lit up with surprise, and he struggled to shout:

"Help!!!"

(End of this chapter)