Early morning, Langley Air Force Base, the night sky was dim.
Beams of light arranged by experts illuminated the base and Air Force One, leaving no shadows.
Even though the bloody incident at the CIA headquarters indicated that such lighting was no hindrance to the Shadow Emperor.
Yet, Air Force One still maintained this high level of electricity consumption.
Nett was urgently awakened from his slumber.
Since the fervor over the Different World had intensified, he had grown accustomed to working in the middle of the night.
Nett wore thin pajamas, and beneath this uninspiring attire, his age was clearly evident, unlike when wearing suits and ties, which made him appear like a formidable figure who had not yet succumbed to senility.
Changing into pajamas reduced that decisive aura.
He knew this was damaging to his image.
But changing into pajamas and then back into a suit was a troublesome ordeal for someone of his age.
