I Have Returned, but I Cannot Lay down My Gun

Chapter 483

“Phew, this is exhausting. Is the next debate the last one? The Republicans aren’t going down easily, are they? They’ve really sharpened their knives.”

“Well, didn’t you completely crush their knives this time? Their momentum is totally shattered. Whatever they bring up next won’t have much effect, unless they try to drag up some pathetic arguments to smear their image.”

“If it turns into a brawl, we’ve got a lot to stab at, but if they drag it into the mud, that’ll be something else. Unless they’ve completely lost their minds, they won’t go that route.”

New York, Camp Henry.

The sky was clear, and the weather was cool. It was a refreshing day, especially considering the fiery clashes that had taken place just yesterday during the second presidential debate.

Henry Michael Brayton, a former Senate Majority Leader and now the Democratic presidential candidate after a smooth and aggressive campaign, glanced at a pile of papers on the table before speaking again.

The pile of papers—otherwise known as the newspaper. Specifically, the political section had the headline on the first page showing Henry, with boxing gloves on, literally punching the Republican presidential candidate, Ernest Shepard, into submission.

It was a blatant image. Henry briefly checked the name of the journalist who published the article but then quickly put it aside, waving his hand lightly. A staff member immediately called someone over, and as soon as another staff member entered, the door was locked.

After sipping his coffee, Henry spoke.

“Good thing we got some support at the right time.”

“The data on humanoids from Viper, you mean? Absolutely. …I doubt there’s any other camp as free from internal squabbles as this one.”

Instead of responding directly, Henry exhaled deeply, sinking into his chair.

But that wasn’t necessarily a negative response—it was about the Super PACs. In other words, legal lobbying or campaign funds. If a presidential candidate’s stance aligned with certain corporate interests, those companies could fund the candidate’s campaign.

And in 2036, the companies supporting Henry M. Brayton were none other than Icarus International and its think tanks. While the amounts weren’t as large as those for other candidates, at least Henry didn’t have to worry about being influenced by them.

To be precise, the Super PACs from these companies didn’t just provide campaign funding; they were also used as the foundation and evidence to back up Henry’s policies.

“Being called a warmongering interventionist without being able to defend myself was quite a harvest.”

“I’m sure the Republicans were more than a little flustered. Suddenly, the fire was on their feet. The frame they carefully built to turn you into a mustached dictator completely shattered.”

“Now it’s someone else’s problem. Glad it’s not mine anymore.”

The conversation continued, skipping over some of the details of the process and conclusions.

One of Henry’s key foreign policy platforms was aggressive American intervention abroad.

Given that the 48th President of the United States from another world had effectively turned China, Russia, and Mexico’s cartels into nothing more than Heinz ketchup, Henry was inclined to think the best solution to the ongoing disputes between the Middle East, Pakistan, and India was simple: intervention.

Moreover, he was a progressive Democrat. With China and Russia effectively gone, Henry believed the next step was to bring about permanent global peace. The old isolationism seemed far too naïve.

However, there were, of course, counterarguments to his proposed intervention.

‘…In the end, the Republicans only have one card left to play.’

People die.

In other words, casualties are expected.

If American soldiers were sent to the middle of a massive conflict between Pakistan and India, what would happen? Given the death toll of 2,448 American troops during the U.S.-Afghanistan War just a decade ago, the situation could easily result in more casualties.

Already, newspaper headlines were starting to take shape. “U.S. President Plays with Fire near the Powder Keg,” or “Does Henry Value Soldiers’ Lives as Mere Chips?” These were the kind of titles that would soon take over the front pages with grotesque caricatures of Henry.

But at this point, Eugene had handed Henry one card.

The humanoid.

“Humanoids. I wonder where you keep getting these incredible things from. If you throw in pulse technology and remote-controlled humanoids, this will make for some very interesting results.”

“Casualties, post-war recovery, disaster relief, veteran support… I’m sure once Viper’s technology starts being implemented, even those Republican guys, who are barely hanging on, will be using Icarus Dynamics’ prosthetics and exoskeletons, quietly behind the scenes.”

“Just hearing that already makes me feel so much better.”

There was no need to worry about casualties.

Once humanoid technology became deeply integrated into the military, there would be no need to worry about high-level operators being lost in battle, as they could be replaced easily and at a fraction of the cost.

Veterans, PTSD, casualties, job concerns—cutting-edge technology could not solve everything, but it could handle at least 75% of those issues.

And Henry, just yesterday, had unveiled the metaphorical dagger he’d kept hidden, completely obliterating Ernest Shepard, who had been constantly throwing jabs at him.

“After consulting numerous experts from companies specializing in humanoid development, we’ve concluded that within just one year, we could deploy remote-controlled combat androids to drastically reduce casualties in the U.S. military.”

“Not only that, this technology could create a massive number of jobs nationwide. Additionally, it could address issues related to industrial accidents, safety concerns, combat deployment-related injuries, or even physical disabilities caused by aging…”

“This isn’t some magic lamp where a genie pops out. It’s real, practical technology, researched by companies like Ubitech, 1X, Icarus Dynamics, Pal Robotics, and Boston Dynamics…”

What was more fun than turning the opposition into ketchup was turning them into ketchup using facts and data.

Moreover, given that there was no backdoor bribery involved to obtain this analysis, the Republicans would realize that the more they tried to investigate the data, the more futile their efforts would become.

The conclusion was clear, and everyone in the room questioned whether there was any need for a third debate. No matter how much they pondered, the next debate was most likely going to serve as the Republicans’ dignified retreat.

Whether that retreat would be denied or whether some mercy would be shown was entirely up to Henry, but he didn’t care much about that.

His thoughts were already focused on what would come after sitting in the Oval Office.

‘The real problem is how to handle the pressure building up between the Middle East, India, and Pakistan…’

There were many ways to go about it.

First, Henry could simply wait for the situation to escalate, and with the backing of public opinion and the United Nations, he could suppress the inevitable conflicts and crimes that would arise. If it went this way, the situation would most likely settle without much resistance.

Without the bothersome obstacles of China and Russia, Henry had countless options, and for the Middle East, he already had a plan in mind.

‘If I pay a hefty price and get the nuclear fusion technology from Viper…’

In less than a week, he imagined that the turbans of the Middle Eastern leaders would come running to him, begging for mercy.

Chuckling to himself, he thought,

“…I have no idea how much I’ll have to pay Viper for that.”

In the other world, the U.S. government had spent far more than the entire U.S. national budget developing countless technologies.

And Henry realized one thing: if not for the near-apocalyptic virus, the money spent would have been invested in a way that paid back the world in dividends.

As he thought about the overwhelming technological gap, Henry exhaled deeply.

Before he knew it, his coffee cup was empty.

It was a day in October, just one month before the presidential election.

“Looks like you guys finally stepped foot in Hawaii. Congratulations.”

“Hey, why are you being ominous right off the bat?!”

“Welcome to the world of gunpowder and lead...ugh!”

“Why are you instilling such strange vibes in those guys as soon as we arrive?”

Meanwhile, about 8,000 kilometers away, on a small island in the Pacific.

Eugene and his group picked up three additional participants for their training.

"Wow... how did you manage to book a place like this?"

“Truly, overwhelming wealth makes almost anything possible.”

“...Well, yeah, that's true.”

As the door opened, the vastness of Waikiki was immediately visible.

The sky seemed to blend into the ocean. The sea, a shimmering emerald green, gently rippled, and as the horizon met the water, the color deepened into a rich blue. It looked like paradise had descended onto the earthly realm. A place that, until now, had only existed in thoughts, one they never thought they would actually visit due to the lack of time and relaxation—was right in front of them.

As they took it all in, Harmony, after hearing Limit's completely offbeat comment, muttered with a slightly confused expression. It wasn’t just about wealth. Technically, the whole hotel was… likely a building Eugene’s parents could freely use.

But neither of them had any intention of telling the three who had just arrived in Hawaii about Eugene’s family situation, so they just exchanged subtle smiles while watching the excitement unfold.

However, surprisingly, the trio—Hotteok, Limit, and Kimstone—had no choice but to participate in the Hawaiian experience.

One of the island’s signature activities, snorkeling, was waiting for them.

“Snorkeling?”

“We’re planning to go quite far. Everything you need is loaded on the boat, so just bring yourselves. The vehicle is already prepared.”

“Uh, so should we not eat? What if we eat a hearty breakfast and then puke it all out in the sea?”

“Don’t worry, I’ve got some chocolate bars prepared just in case.”

A small chuckle followed.

The three, who were unsure at first, didn’t really mind the sudden plan. Snorkeling? Even if they weren’t sure what it entailed, they could picture it—swimming in clear waters, watching coral reefs, and feeding tropical fish. It sounded fun.

Though it was sudden, they had done some research on Hawaiian activities before coming. After all, even beaches that started accepting guests at 7 AM had been on the itinerary, so complaining about this little surprise felt a bit out of place.

So, feeling a little dazed, they took the elevator down to the basement.

They hadn’t yet experienced the classic Hawaiian sights, but there were still plenty of ways to feel the tropical atmosphere without walking the streets or sipping tropical punches.

For example—

Vroom!

“Wow… look at all these palm trees around here.”

“Look at the beautiful buildings. This is amazing…”

“Just yesterday, I was in Korea, and now… what is going on?”

Outside the car window, the views sped by.

Towering volcanic mountain ranges, a sky so blue it looked unreal, rows of hotels and buildings, creating an exotic scene beneath the clear skies. The faint salty smell of the ocean air mixed with a fresh and sweet fragrance inside the car.

The suddenness of it all made their hearts race. After all, it was Hawaii, and it felt every bit like the tropical paradise they had imagined.

While Eugene handed out water and motion sickness pills bought from a convenience store, they swallowed the pills and divided into two cars—three people in one, four in the other—as they quietly crossed the 40 km volcanic island.

After about 30 minutes, the cars pulled up to a quiet parking lot near the harbor.

“...Wow, this place is quieter than I expected.”

“There are a lot of boats... this is the harbor.”

“Tour starts in about 15 minutes, so please stretch before you get in the water. We didn’t bring extra clothes, but we’ll stop by the market on the way back, so don’t worry about getting your clothes wet.”

“Okay, got it. Limit, come here! Let’s stretch!”

“No, why me all of a sudden—ugh!”

Limit’s doomed, wwww
I was wondering why the stream was late, but they actually came to Hawaii, haha!
Is this stretching or torture?
Hotteok, that’s not stretching! You’re twisting him like a shrimp, you monster!
Kimstone over there has eyes wide open, lol.
Crack!

As expected, Limit, an ordinary person, couldn’t escape Hotteok’s grip.

While the two exchanged some intense “stretching,” Eugene’s group, who had just gotten out of the car, also started stretching on the spot.

There wasn’t a single person nearby. Eugene, finishing his stretch, sat down on a chair and added, “We’ve rented the entire boat for today’s snorkeling tour. You can enjoy the tour as much as you want and return when you're ready.”

No one seemed displeased by the news. Just then, from a pier on one side, the sound of a motor started, and a small boat began approaching the group.

And then, the first thing they noticed was a pictogram.

“...Huh?”

“Hawaii... Shark?”

“Eugene, what’s that?”

“Well, what do you think it is?”

Wait… what?
No way, haha, seriously?
Is this snorkeling or becoming shark food?
I can’t believe this is a shark tour, haha!
No wonder Lorentina’s been smiling all along, haha!
Everyone’s heads turned in unison, eyes fixed on the shark-shaped sticker on the boat.

At the end of the gaze was Eugene’s face. Just moments ago, he had been beaming with a smile so bright it could blind anyone—but now, there was something off about it. Was it just their imagination, or did it suddenly smell like blood? No, it wasn’t their imagination. Eugene had been planning to trick everyone from the start, and he was enjoying the sight of their color draining away.

As the kindly-looking captain brought the boat to a complete stop, Eugene opened his mouth.

“Shark tours are still a type of snorkeling. I didn’t lie.”

“Ahh, nooo—!”

“Teacher, I’m not tasty! Really! I’m terrified of sharks! I won’t even step into an aquarium’s shark tank!”

“Haha.”

In an instant, the harbor turned into chaos.

However, Eugene had long since figured out how to handle the situation.

“Won’t you watch Lorentina interact with the sharks?”

“...Eh?”

“Wait, Lorentina, you’re a shark ‘manifestor,’ right?”

“I see everyone’s finally coming back to their senses.”

Lorentina picked up on Eugene’s words and added with a mischievous chuckle, “I’ll make sure to let my shark friends know not to bite you, so don’t worry about being bitten.”

“Alright, then. Is there anyone who wants to cancel the shark tour?”

Of course, no one raised their hand.

Sometimes, curiosity overcomes fear.

The boat carrying seven people was about to leave the harbor.