Chapter 142 : New President

The current president is dead, but now what? Is it over? Of course not. If the president dies, a new president will naturally succeed him. Even if a dozen people at the scene are killed, there will always be replacements. The two parties will simply elect new people.

The newly elected president will still be just as corrupt, so simply killing them won't solve the problem. If you want a better life, you could create your president.

Jude looked around at the remaining six people. "Which one of you wants to be President of the United States?"

These six were ordinary staff members – tea servers, assistants, and perhaps even a chef. They likely ran in here in a panic. They froze when they heard Jude's words.

"I ask you again, who wants to be the President of the United States?"

One of them raised his hand carefully. "Excuse me, if I become president, will I survive?"

"Of course. I only need one president."

Instantly, all six of them raised their hands. They would do anything to survive, regardless of how absurd the situation was.

"Very well. Recognizing the situation is the first prerequisite for being the President of the United States. Since there can only be one president, I will choose the smartest among you."

They immediately began bragging about themselves. Some claimed to have perfect academic scores, others boasted high IQ test results, and one even declared they had a top chef certificate. Someone absurdly claimed their ancestor was Einstein.

Jude shook his fingers. "Words are useless. I want to test your intelligence. To survive, you must demonstrate your greatest strength."

The six people swallowed nervously and looked at the holographic projection in front of them. A math problem emerged on the blue light curtain: 4×9=?

Three of them breathed a sigh of relief. Though difficult, they could solve this with effort. The other three had dilated pupils and cold sweat. This question was impossibly hard!

You might think 4 × 9 is easy. The answer is 36 – a simple problem for elementary school students who have memorized their multiplication tables. But don't assume everyone knows this. The nine-times table doesn't exist in Western education. Western educators prioritize a less rigorous 'happy education' approach. If you ask an American how much 4×9 is, they usually add nine four times or four nine times. It's a common joke that cashiers can't calculate totals and only give change. Sadly, this is often true.

So, 4×9 is deceptively difficult for some people. After a nervous competition, three answered 36. The other three answers were wildly incorrect: 21, 50, and 134. How they arrived at these is a mystery.

Jude smiled at the three who answered incorrectly. "One more chance. If you're sick, what treatment would you choose?"

Their hearts pounded in fear. Under extreme tension, one shouted, "Drink disinfectant!"

The others stared at him in disbelief.

Jude's eyes lit up. "Tell me, why did you choose to drink disinfectant?"

"Uh...well, disinfectant sterilizes, right? It can be done quickly."

"And sick people have viruses and bacteria in their bodies, so drinking disinfectant washes your blood and keeps you safe."

Hearing these astonishing remarks, Jude looked closely at the man claiming to be Einstein's descendant. A burly figure, squinting eyes, and messy blond hair... but there was an undeniable wisdom in his eyes.

"What a genius! It's you!"

Whoosh, whoosh... Lasers fired, killing the other five on the spot. Jude patted 'Wisdom' on the shoulder. "You're amazing – a natural-born president. This position is yours."

The wise man looked surprised. "I won? Was I right?"

"No, you didn't answer a single question correctly, but I was conducting a reverse test. The results show your presidential potential. By the way, what's your name?"

"Condner Plante, sir."

"Very well. I will help you with some cosmetic changes, and you'll live as the president from now on."

"What? Then...what about me?"

"You're dead. Remember, sometimes the dead are more useful than the living."

Faced with a life threat, Condner had no choice but to accept, though he still asked, "What if my presidency expires in a year? What should I do?"

"Simple. Get rid of the new president and be re-elected in their place. You see how the presidency works, right?"

Condner nodded confidently. "Of course. Documents to sign, tweets to post, female secretaries under the table... it seems pretty easy."

"Genius, truly a genius!"

Meanwhile, in White House Square, the battle continues...

"What..."

Ivy flung her arms wide, fingers splayed. In response, the earth trembled as plants within a two-kilometer radius surged forth, obedient to her will. Asphalt cracked and splintered, thick vines erupting from the ground. They shot skyward, reaching forty, or fifty meters in the blink of an eye.

"Aha!" With a sharp gesture, Ivy unleashed her verdant army. Plants whipped through the air, a twisting mass of green snakes hurtling towards Diana.

Faced with this ferocious assault, Diana unsheathed the Vulcan Sword. "Seems I have no choice."

Bang! The sword ignited, flames roaring a hundred meters long. The air itself seemed to crackle and ignite. Diana channeled her divine power, and fire dragons materialized, incinerating the oncoming plant onslaught.

The Absorber charged, a relentless juggernaut fueled by the power of the Guardian's bracelets. Now as potent as Zeus himself, the flames couldn't touch her. 

Singularity seized her chance. She flickered, a dark blue energy beam lancing towards her target.

Diana, after skidding across the ground, spun and raised her shield. Starlight deflected the attack. "Such tricks won't work, little sister."

Singularity's form dissolved, evading the starlight. But a moment later, the Lasso of Truth ensnared her, its unbreakable hold rendering even her phasing powers useless.

"Come down!" Diana roared, yanking the lasso. Singularity was dragged forward, a collision with Diana's fist imminent.

"Tsk, tsk, tsk. Must you take this so seriously, Diana?" Cowboy No.1 materialized, snatching Singularity away just in time.

"Take a look at this." Jude gestured towards Condner, his appearance now utterly transformed into that of the president.

"What? Wait...that's impossible..." Diana stammered.

"Nothing is impossible. The president and I have come to an understanding – a truce. Put away your weapons. I heard your little whispers with Superman."

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