I impersonated God in America

The only exceptions are the Nakochi Tank People, an indigenous group along the Potomac River, and the Iroquois Confederation in New York, both of which have been ticked off, with the former even noted as resolved.

Don't ask how it was solved; just tell me whether it was solved or not.

A rustling sound filled the conference room.

As the list was distributed to the officials in the center of the table, everyone present felt a chill run down their spines as they looked at the remaining 200-plus tribal names.

After all, to them, these were all potential landmines that could explode.

Why did our ancestors suffer when they cut down trees?!

"The Special Affairs Bureau's next internal report must complete this list in the shortest possible time."

"Especially the GPS coordinates of sacrificial sites and their corresponding mythological prototypes. If any relics are found still within U.S. jurisdiction, they should be immediately reported, assessed, and archived for management."

"The U.S. military's firepower reserves have now reached the red line, and the Medusa incident has almost confirmed that there are no other gods on American soil that are friendly to us."

Although the Thunderbirds were indifferent to us, we were the ones who tried to get close to them.

"If another Potomac River God appears, we will have a hard time dealing with it. We can discuss other ideas among ourselves."

The Minister of Defense looked serious, then slowly closed the document in front of him and handed it to his assistant.

"Would it have been better if we had destroyed the shrines of these tribes beforehand?"

"..."

"Are you crazy?"

"Didn't I say feel free to express your opinions?"

"Ahem, since no one has any objections, let's move on to the next topic."

The president placed his hand on the edge of the table, looked around, and finally fixed his gaze on James.

“Mr. James, you’ve been carrying out the Special Affairs Bureau ever since the Sardinian Stone Serpent incident. Although there have been quite a few disasters during this time, everyone has been understanding and knows that those things have little to do with you. In fact, you’ve handled some things quite perfectly.”

"I greatly admire your calm demeanor in the meeting room during the Medusa incident and your coordination of the front lines throughout the process."

"It's what I should do."

James straightened his back a bit.

Although his current position in the Special Affairs Bureau is an independent agency, it is still under the Ministry of National Defense in terms of organizational structure. He was simply transferred there from a position within the Ministry of National Defense.

After his resignation was rejected last time, he was thinking about when he could be transferred from this position where he could be sent away by all sorts of strange people every day, which is why he was working so hard.

[Can I finally be transferred?]

Where will you be transferred next?

I've heard that the Minister of Finance is about to be transferred, and the Minister of the Interior is also retiring.

Sigh, both of these places seem nice, it's so hard to choose.

Thinking about this, James felt a happy kind of trouble.

The president will announce the final ruling in the next moment.

"Effective immediately, the American Extraordinary Countermeasures Department is established, a department at the same level as the Department of Defense, and will report directly to the President. Mr. James will serve as its first Secretary!"

"Please vote on the spot."

The Minister of Defense was the first to raise his hand, followed by the other ministers.

The Secretary of State said with admiration, "I have noticed Mr. James's exceptional abilities from his previous work. Now he has finally been given a position that matches his workload. Congratulations to Mr. James."

Splash!

Amidst the continuous applause, all the heads of functional departments simultaneously raised their hands.

It passed unanimously!

Congratulations, Mr. James!

"Now we should call him Minister James, hahaha!"

"Why does Secretary James look a little unhappy?"

"I guess I got too excited? Hahaha!"

"congratulations!"

I heard the continuous applause and congratulations all around me.

James sat there expressionless, feeling only the noise around him.

[The United States' Extraordinary Countermeasures Department?]

[Fxxk!]

Chapter Ninety-Five: Spy Playing House

James pushed open the door.

[It feels so uncomfortable, like something just got stuck in my throat...]

Never mind, I'll think about it tomorrow.

The living room light wasn't on. He kicked the corner of the shoe cabinet and collapsed onto the sofa.

He exuded a strong whiskey scent.

The wife came out of the bedroom, her bare feet on the wooden floor. After smelling the alcohol, she turned on the living room light.

“I remember you don’t usually drink. What’s wrong today? If you ask me, ever since you were called out to work overtime in Sardinia and went to that special affairs bureau, I haven’t seen you smile. It makes me feel uncomfortable.”

"You got promoted."

"You got promoted and you still... wait! What did you get promoted to?"

"Ministerial level."

The wife picked up the cushion from the sofa and put it back in its place.

Looking at her husband, her face was full of anticipation.

Ministerial level?

You have to understand that this level is not easy to reach, and she thought her husband would never be able to climb it in his entire life.

"Does that mean I'll be the minister's wife from now on?"

"Then why do you still look so sullen?"

"The department I am currently in is called the American Extraordinary Countermeasures Department."

"Oh, by the way, the main job of this department is to handle supernatural events in the United States. I wonder if you remember the floods in Washington and the two natural disasters in New York?"

"It's up to us now."

"..."

Upon hearing James's words, his wife turned and walked towards the kitchen without hesitation.

"What would you like to eat tonight?"

"..."

After a while, a very loud engine noise came from outside the window.

The exhaust pipe made the entire window shake.

James was still under the influence of alcohol, and his head was buzzing from the noise outside the window.

He sprang up from the sofa, ripped open the window, leaned out, and yelled at the street racers below.

"Can't you just be quiet!"

buzz

Suddenly, gray ripples spread outwards from him in all directions.

Ripples swept across the entire block through the window.

next moment

The screeching sound of tires rubbing and the roar of the engine disappeared instantly.

The rap music from the car stereo disappeared instantly.

The sight of the street racers below was so terrifying that they collapsed to the ground, screaming but unable to make a sound.

As the silence dissipated, cries for help rang out from downstairs.

Seeing that James was only a little angry, the group exchanged glances, scrambled to their feet, and left in a disheveled state.

Wait, what's this?

James sobered up instantly as he stood by the window.

He put his hand on his throat and could clearly feel a strange force near his throat.

Suddenly he remembered that when he was drunk on the road, he seemed to vaguely hear someone say something to him and then give him a ball of light.

[I've become extraordinary?!]

[It seems to be the power to control sound? That's not weak at all!]

"Oh my god, this can awaken too?"

Immediately afterwards, James clenched his right fist, and a faint cracking sound came from between his bones.

This physical enhancement is definitely effective!

He turned around and looked towards the kitchen.

His wife was taking the spatula off the rack, completely unaware of the result of his shouting out the window.

James stepped into the kitchen, opened his arms, and picked her up in one swift motion.

What are you going to do?

"Another inch."

------------

Bugle Daily Newspaper Office.

Pacco sat at his workstation, brought his coffee to his lips, and felt inexplicably happy.

He had been researching how to enhance his silk thread abilities, and unexpectedly, last night, when he was so eager to eavesdrop on the neighbors' gossip, he actually succeeded.

In order to hear gossip about spies from various countries.

He arrived at his workstation early today to prepare the wires for eavesdropping.

Watching the staff walking around him, he lay down without making a sound.

Not far away, a newly arrived bald newspaper editor was typing away at his keyboard, typing a new article, when he secretly glanced at him.

"Ah, it's so good to be a superhuman. You don't need to complete any missions to be like this; everyone revolves around you."

But compared to those agents in charge of the Protestant denomination, I seem to have it much easier. Those guys are reportedly swamped with work because of the schism within the Protestant leadership.

[I wonder what the Protestant higher-ups are thinking? Since they can't find any relevant extraordinary lineage, they might as well just follow the Higher Church and gravitate towards Rome.]

Pacco's ears twitched instantly. Without making a sound, he covered his face with the newspaper next to him, making the others think that he didn't want to be disturbed by the lights above the newspaper office.

In fact, he couldn't help but smile from the bottom of the newspaper.

Wow, are churches in Britain really this chaotic?

He had some understanding of the Higher Church of Protestantism in England.

The opposing faction is a very important branch within British Protestantism, which, in general, retains and upholds the ancient traditions of Roman Catholicism in many aspects of church systems.

Suddenly, he noticed that the MI6 newspaper editor at the front line glanced at him discreetly.

[Oh, so you just wanted to rest for a bit. You scared me!]

[Sigh, after finishing work at the newspaper office, I still have to continue my MI6 work in my rented room. My life is so miserable! I really want to rest!]

[I heard there's a fortune teller in the American Countermeasures Department who never shows his face. How am I supposed to find him? These damn leaders are really unpredictable.]

[You still haven't paid me for overtime.]