Back aboard the ship, John was contemplating. Playing with a piece of Baelementium shaped roughly like a pencil, to be used in the project Scarlett was assembling for him, after noticing the gesture, he threw it in his inventory with the rest. Right now, he was weighing pros and cons between staying and leaving Washington DC.

Both had incredibly simple arguments. If John wanted to run for the presidency in this guild, his presence would help in the PR effort. The voting system of the Little Maryland was odd in many ways. The nomination was easy enough to get in theory: he had to convince three out of five army generals as well as two out of three civilian district heads. Apparently the three large market barriers in the city had their own elections and the heads of those were ultimately the heads of the civilian estate. The army on the other hand was strictly meritocratic and people ascended up the ranks by a mixture of power and achievements.

Once he had the nomination, it would go into the actual campaigning process against everyone else who could run on their lonesome, being part of the internal government and as such not needing any such affirmations.

The Little Maryland had its elections every four years, the next date for nominations starting one year before the actual election. That happened to be in one month. In theory, this was good for John, as it gave him a fair amount of time to weasel his way into people’s awareness and position himself.

Still, one month wasn’t a particularly long time all things considered. Given the strained political situation, the Gamer was sure he could make it work though. He just needed to make the right promises. The year after that would be a bit harder. Convincing a population that the foreign power was the right choice to elect was certainly a task of difficulty. Well, if he had the backing of their elected leaders, it should be a possibility with a reasonable chance of success.

Regardless of whether he was right or not, that was a question for then. The question for now remained whether he should stay over his announced duration. If he didn’t manage to get himself nominated this time around, he had to wait four years, and who knew what would happen in that timeframe.

However, if he didn’t go home, he may as well write his intentions on Abraham’s front lawn by pouring gasoline down in the shape of letters and then throwing a match on it. There was no way a politician, who held the highest office for 12 years at this point, wasn’t going to realize something was up and find out what that was by hearing around the place. John’s best interest was to keep the current president in the dark for as long as possible, lest counteroffers threw his nomination out of bounds.

There was also the matter of Fusion’s main holdout being still in the process of consolidation. John’s leadership was required back home. His discomfort with public speaking aside, the Gamer was good at the administration of his country and was the highest authority to plan everything. They needed to establish a proper army and get through with the first elections of public offices. Much was to be done.

“Really wished I had longer than a month,” John rubbed his eyes and leaned back in his chair, looking for his girls for advice. “How do you think we should handle this?” The question caused everyone in the conference room to think.

Everyone but Scarlett, who had already cobbled together her version of the plan. “You need to go back to New York,” she stated in a tone of fact. “If you stay, you play right into Abraham’s hands and also displease the people who wonder why you went down here in the first place back in the territory you actually own.”

John nodded; widely he agreed with that, but the flipside still made him hesitate, “And how do you propose we solve the issue of nomination? I need to be here.”

“No, YOU don’t,” Scarlett told him. “You are head of a country, for all intents and purpose, since when do those lead all negotiations themselves?”

“Ja,” Rave snapped her fingers, the motion ending with her index finger pointing at the redhead. “Ya can have a person sneaking around here for ya, that would work.”

The Gamer hummed, getting with the program. “No, sneaking wouldn’t work,” he told his girlfriend. “Or, well, it would for a short amount of time, but it would be better to have somebody serving as ambassador do these things. Whoever I appoint could walk around and make appointments without Abraham thinking anything unusual is happening. That would be normal diplomacy after all.”

“Exactly,” Scarlett reinforced. “Sure, it would be way fucking easier if you stayed here yourself to do the talking, but it’s not necessary in and of itself.”

“And ya could, ya know,” Rave threw another thought in the ring, “invite some of them over to New York for a weekend. That ain’t unusual, or is it?”

“No, that is true,” John hummed and thought back to Chemilia. Although scarce, the two of them had been in contact. She was a general he was already pretty sure to be able to get a vote from, as her displeasure with the current system was evident. It was so clear, in fact, John had ran an extra background check on her to make sure she wasn’t secretly working for Abraham as a controlled opposition. So far, nothing pointed in that direction.

Either she was what she seemed to be, a genuinely disgruntled leader in the military, or she was so good at her double-crossing that John was going to be genuinely surprised when she finally turned on him. As it was, she seemed like a trustworthy confidante and taking a more cautionary stance towards her would make him seem gravely paranoid. In short, not worth it.

“Okay,” he finally spoke out with renewed energy, “that is absolutely the way to go. Who is going to be the ambassador, though?” He looked over the assembled people. Then he realized it didn’t have to be one of the assembled girls here at all. Then he realized he had the perfect person for the job.

What did an ambassador have to have? A reputation of trustworthiness was the answer. One that allowed people to believe in the promises they made in the name of their country. They also needed to have a position in that country that made it clear they had the leader’s ear, otherwise they were just glorified seat warmers nobody would talk to.

There was one person in Fusion that had both a reputation known around the world and was also widely known to hold a fair amount of sway within John’s guild. The Gamer was wondering whether or not that person wanted the job though.

____________________________________________________________________

“Seriously? Of course I will take the job!” Magoi answered on the phone. “Everything that gives me an excuse to load my actual job off on my son. Even better if I can go visit some new restaurants, running out of high class over here.”

John was a bit baffled at both the enthusiasm and the reason for it. Sure, the High Fateweaver was mostly in this whole thing to assure his family a continued existence in wealth by training Magnus as his successor for a less dangerous job as headmaster of the eventual Fateweaver academy, but still. “You are aware you will have to do a lot of talking, right?”

“Sure, sure,” Magoi waved off, “some sweet talk there, some promises there, should take a maximum of eight hours a day. We have a month to win over how many people? Five?”

“That is the number, yes,” John was still recovering from how easy the man thought this was going to be. “Why are you this enthusiastic?”

“Well, for a start, because I happen to have worked for one of the district leaders in the past,” Magoi explained, “so I am sure I can convince him. Then you will have Chemilia drag two other generals up north under the explanation of some advisor request, and then it’s basically down to just getting one more of the civilians over. And you give me a month for that. Plenty of time for sightseeing.”

He wasn’t wrong, but John couldn’t help to think that things were going to be less smooth in practice. “…Let’s hope it all works out…” he gave his doubts voice.

“If you want to be double sure, you could leave Beatrice or Aclysia with me for long-distance communication.”

“I think that distance is a bit too far. Magic or not, the whole mental connection gets less useful over distance and eventually it just devolves into nothing but an awareness that the other is still alive,” John explained and then cleared his throat, carefully formulating something else. “Okay then, I am coming back to New York shortly, and I would want you to get on your way a day after I arrive.”

“Sure thing,” Magoi assured, sounding genuinely ecstatic about the prospects. Then he realized why John specified a day and added in a dry tone, “Right, you need another training barrier.”

“It’s a new month,” John defended himself.

“Sure thing…” the High Fateweaver repeated, tired at the prospect of spending yet another ten days doing little of interest inside a barrier.

____________________________________________________________________

“THE Magoi Magus?” Abraham asked over the phone. It wouldn’t have been an ambassador if the government he was sent to wasn’t informed about him. “He seems overqualified for such a simple position. Are you sure you don’t want to send someone of lesser importance?” Even though he was the president of the guild, or especially because of that, he must have known that sending such an important person over in an ambassador role was highly unorthodox.

“As it is, Fusion has problems finding people that are adequate for roles,” John tried to explain. “I would rather send someone over- than underqualified over; my relations with the Little Maryland are highly important to me.” Now that was a double-faced sentence if John ever said one, and he did feel bad for it, but he still delivered it in an equal tone with the rest. It wasn’t a lie, it just skipped the whole truth – that the Little Maryland literally meant the whole guild, not him in particular.

“I am very happy to hear that,” Abraham answered in a very appreciative tone in his deep voice. Either he was hiding his true intentions well or he was looking at John as a bit too much of a diplomatically cornered foe.

‘I do wonder if he is even consciously aware of the law I am trying to use here,’ John thought. It wouldn’t have surprised him if the president simply forgot about a law that had been used not once before. However, it would have surprised him even less if Abraham was aware. Well, he would definitely be if the Gamer asked, so it was best to just assume Abraham knew but hope for the best case. “Anyway, just wanted to let you know. Sorry if I ripped you out of anything,” he had made the call at almost midnight. The first of May was almost over by now.

“Oh, by no means, as president my sleep schedule is odd anyway,” Abraham laughed it off. “Surely, you are aware.”

John actually was, but only in a limited extent. Whatever work he felt was excessive or didn’t really need his direct attention, the Gamer delegated elsewhere as fast as he possibly could. For the obvious reason of desiring to spend more time with his girls inside bedrooms and less time with his papers inside offices. Also, because he had a more decentralized mindset. Abraham, on the contrary, seemed to be one of the types who wanted to do everything they could themselves. “Well, my own sleep schedule varies a lot,” John put it carefully. “Anyway, I won’t keep you any longer.”

After he put the phone down on the table, he let out a long exhale and then an amused sound.

“Well, that worked out better than I expected,” he told everyone. “Now, full sail back home. I do miss grinding again.” He looked over to Scarlett. At the start of this vacation, he had told Siena and Undine to keep an eye on her, and nothing noteworthy had been reported to him. Thus, he stated with confidence, “I trust you to run most of Fusion’s administration once we get back.”

Scarlett raised an eyebrow, “I feel like I missed something, for you to use the word ‘trust’ in regards to me.”

“Maybe you have,” John teased. “Anyway, fact is that Abraham is extremely unlikely to just roll over and let me have his position. I need to get stronger and quick as well.” Often, John contemplated if the absolutely correct way to do this whole conquering was to just take a break for however long it took to level to 1000 and then just roll over everyone and everything without any meaningful opposition.

Not only would such a victory have been hollow, however, like beating Dark Souls with invulnerability turned on, but it would also make John appear like a very aggressive expander. Not to mention all the misery that the world would have to endure in those months or years it would take to get there.

Basically, its was John’s own need for accomplishments and wanting to claim the hierarchy of the world not through sheer force but through prestige that kept him from doing what was probably best for his personal safety. Although he was famous enough at this point that John wasn’t even sure if he could have a quiet month if he wanted it.

“Okay, so lemme summarize,” Rave raised her voice to the background sound of Eliza munching crisps. “Over the next month Magoi will make sure you get your nomination, with some visit by the Chemilia girl in New York, and the only thing we have going on is train?”

“That are our optimal steps to take, yes,” John answered. “That and actually checking out how strong the counter-military is in relation to the actual military. No need to start a civil war on the losing side.”