"Steve, we've arrived."
"You must feel it too, right? This enormous state apparatus has already warmed up for you."
"The USA of today is like a fully drawn, taut bow."
General Randy pointed toward the solemn and dignified conference room ahead, his eyes filled with pride.
"And you are the one responsible for firing the arrow."
Steve pushed open the car door, and the night wind swept across his cheek.
He adjusted his collar, took a deep breath, and his gaze became firmer than ever before.
If there was a trace of apprehension before, at this moment, feeling the entire country supporting him, all hesitation vanished into thin air.
"Since the country treats me as a National Treasure, I shall repay it as a National Treasure."
Steve took a step forward, meeting the gaze of the secretaries, and walked up with vigorous strides.
This step taken was no longer an ordinary meeting.
Instead, it was a turning point in the history of two worlds, two civilizations, and even the infinite multiverse.
Passing through the gate symbolizing the highest authority of the USA, there were no strict barriers as imagined, only a few streetlights emitting a soft glow.
Steve followed General Randy into a simply furnished conference room.
The red carpet underfoot was somewhat worn, and manyfamous paintingshung on the wall. The air was filled with a faint scent of ink and tobacco.
The moment Steve stepped through the door, the secretaries and generals who had been sitting on the sofa talking all stood up simultaneously.
If outside news media were to witness this scene, it would be enough to shock the world.
These were figures who, with a single stomp of their feet, could make global geopolitics tremble.
Yet at this moment, they were greeting an eighteen-year-old youth with the posture of equals, or even honored guests.
The Secretary standing in the center wore a faded grey suit, his face kind, but his eyes held the wisdom of one who comprehends the world.
He was the current President of the United States, David Kennedy.
"Gr..."
Steve was just about to salute using the formal address from the news, but his hand was grasped by a pair of warm, strong hands.
Kennedy held Steve's hand, looking him up and down, the smile in his eyes almost overflowing, as if he were looking at his own son.
"Since you call Randy by his name, if you don't mind this old man, just call me Kennedy."
This simple change in address instantly set the tone: here, there were no superiors and subordinates, only family.
"Mr. Kennedy."
Steve didn't mince words and called out readily.
"Good, good kid."
Kennedy pulled Steve to sit on the sofa, not rushing to discuss official business, but personally pouring Steve a cup of hot cocoa.
"This cocoa isn't some special supply; it's from a local supplier, from a friend back in my hometown. Have a taste, it'll relieve your fatigue."
Afterward, Kennedy retracted his smile, his expression becoming solemn. He looked at Steve, his tone sincere.
"Steve, everything you said to Randy in the car just now, and everything you demonstrated at the base, we have seen it all."
"To be honest, even we, who have one foot in the grave, were startled, but more than that, we felt fortunate."
Kennedy pointed toward the deep night sky outside the window.
"We are fortunate that God blesses the USA, sending down a child like you in this era of uncertainty. What we are even more fortunate about is that your heart is righteous, and you chose to trust the country immediately."
"The country will absolutely not betray this trust."
Speaking of this, Kennedy picked up a newly signed and sealed document from the table and solemnly handed it to Steve with both hands.
"After discussion by our committee, we have decided to officially appoint you as the Director-General of the Stargate Strategic Development Bureau, concurrently serving as the Chief Commander of the Multiverse Expeditionary Force."
"Regarding the Pentagon and future Overworld development affairs, you possess the absolute right of veto."
"Whether it's mobilizing the military, allocating resources, or establishing scientific research projects, there's no need for layer-by-layer approval; you decide. General Randy will be your deputy from now on, specifically responsible for running errands and handling logistics for you."
Steve accepted the document. Although he was mentally prepared, he was still moved by the weight of this authority.
This was not just power; it was the country entrusting its very existence into his hands.
Seeming to have discerned Steve's thoughts, Kennedy waved his hand and continued.
"Don't feel pressured. Aside from these nominal titles, if you have any requirements regarding your daily life, just state them."
"I know young people dislike being restrained. Therefore, the country will not limit your freedom, nor will it assign people to watch you like a prisoner."
"However."
Kennedy changed the subject, his tone revealing a sense of dominance.
"Your safety is now the country's highest secret. To guard against foreign powers or accidents, we will arrange a Shadow Squad, responsible only for perimeter security, absolutely not interfering with your private life."
"Also, you don't have a residence in D.C yet, do you? You live in a dorm. There is a villa not far from the Pentagon, which has a tranquil environment, it has been transferred to your name."
"If your parents and relatives are unwilling to move, the local government will secretly look after them. If they wish to come to D.C, you can choose the best resources for jobs, household registration, and schools."
"In a word."
Kennedy looked into Steve's eyes and said deliberately, word by word.
"You open up new territories for the USA on the front lines, and the country will resolve all your worries on the home front. You give the country a future, and the country guarantees your prosperity for generations."
These words were spoken openly and frankly.
There was no exaggeration; only concrete, genuine promises.
There was the delegation of authority, material security, and humanistic care.
"Thank you, President Kennedy."
Steve nodded, his eyes clear.
"If the country does not fail me, I shall certainly not fail the country."
"Haha, good. Don't be so serious."
Kennedy laughed heartily and looked at the wall clock.
"It's almost four o'clock. After being busy all night, your stomach must be rumbling, right? Come, join us old men for a meal."
The dining room was right next door.
There was no Presidential Feast as one might imagine, nor any rare delicacies.
On the table were elegantly arranged plates of roasted herb-seasoned chicken, tender grilled salmon, and a colorful medley of seasonal vegetables, accompanied by artisan bread rolls and a selection of gourmet cheeses.
"Come, come, eat while it's hot."
The secretaries, usually so imposing, were now like kindly grandfathers from next door, continuously placing salmon into Steve's bowl.
"Steve, where are you from? Are you used to university life?"
"Do you like the food in the cafeteria? If you're not used to it, we'll have the master chef go to your university cafeteria to offer some guidance later."
At the dinner table, everyone tacitly avoided discussing heavy national affairs and instead chatted about everyday life.
Steve smiled and answered the secretaries' concerns while biting into his meal that was oozing juice.