The Smiling President

"Mr. President?!"

At the mention of the president, Mystique and Beast grew flustered. Was Ron planning to threaten the president into issuing a pardon for them?

Wouldn't that only escalate the conflict further?

"It seems there's been some misunderstanding. I'm not the type to resort to violence like Magneto."

Ron smiled and dismissed the notion.

Under the night sky, a classical white building stood—one of America's national symbols and a vital nerve center of the country.

Kenny, overwhelmed by a sudden global crisis of unprecedented scale, was escorted by presidential bodyguards back to the second-floor living quarters of the White House's main building.

The elite bodyguard team stood guard downstairs, scanning the surroundings warily.

"I need some time alone."

After a brief moment of warmth with his wife and children, he sent them to bed and retreated to his study.

He stepped into the study, turned, and closed the door. Kenny, whose public persona was usually all bright smiles, now wore a grim, troubled expression.

Today marked an event unprecedented in modern human history—nations were shaken, the world gripped in terror.

Having received the news early, he'd spent the entire day in emergency meetings with top state officials, hammering out a series of countermeasures and precautions.

"Fuck, why did it have to come to this?"

He tugged at his hair in frustration, clearly agonizing over something, and turned toward his desk.

A magnetic voice suddenly cut through the air.

"It seems our president can't stop worrying about state affairs even after hours?"

Moonlight streamed through the window. Behind the desk, a figure sat with hands casually crossed, his deep eyes like black stars, scrutinizing Kenny.

Beside him stood a graceful silhouette, her hand resting lightly on his shoulder, like a beautiful secretary beside her boss.

But this was the White House's main building—the president's private residence, not some street-corner office.

"Who are you? How did you get in?!"

His expression shifted in shock as he stumbled back, pressing against the door.

The White House, guarded around the clock by military forces, had been infiltrated so easily into the main building.

"Raven, turn on the desk lamp.

Mr. President, not all of us can see in the dark."

At the question, Ron, now dressed in a silver-gray suit and wearing a silver-gray helmet, let out a soft laugh.

Click!

The classic old-fashioned green lampshade flicked on.

The room, barely lit by moonlight and hard to see in, suddenly brightened.

The president saw the people behind the desk—a man as handsome as an ancient Greek sculpture, a woman beautiful and tall.

Both were striking figures that might inspire goodwill, but they offered him no sense of safety. Who were these mysterious strangers?

"Relax, fellow."

Ron gestured for him to calm down and not be afraid. Tonight would be a "friendly meeting" between compatriots—he wasn't here to kidnap or threaten.

"Fellow? You're citizens of this country?"

Kenny's voice was tense as he tried to probe their identities. The pair carried no weapons, yet they'd infiltrated this place—how?

"No, I mean 'fellow' in another sense. You understand."

Ron looked at him, his tone laden with meaning.

"No... I don't understand."

Kenny's face paled, a flicker of panic in his eyes, but years of political training let him mask it smoothly.

He hadn't expected that the very thing he'd been fretting over since morning would be uncovered by nightfall.

"Fellow?

Ron, are you saying he... you can't be mistaken, right?"

Beside him, Raven's face stiffened as she whispered in disbelief.

She'd heard the word "fellow" often, but Ron was claiming that this man, who regularly gave speeches on TV, was also a fellow—one of them?

"Yes, hard to imagine that the man holding the highest power in this country is actually a mutant like us, isn't it?"

Seated behind the desk, Ron scanned Kenny, who was pressed tightly against the door in deep unease, and smiled.

"But he really is a mutant. In a few years, when he's assassinated, Magneto will accidentally discover it and try to save him—only to be mistaken for the assassin, framed, and locked away in a special prison."

"What are you two babbling about? Sir, madam, leave immediately, and I'll pretend this never happened."

Kenny stepped forward, blustering, trying to force Ron and the woman out.

"Why doesn't Mr. President just shout?"

"Your bodyguards are right downstairs. If you called out, they'd probably hear you, right?"

Raven's expression shifted slightly as she let out a soft laugh.

Seeing his reaction, she was now certain of what Ron had said.

The man before her, holding the highest power in the nation, looked like a criminal caught red-handed with damning evidence, trying to force calm.

"Alright, sit down. Relax."

Ron gestured, his demeanor like a host inviting an uneasy guest to take a seat.

"One of us can sense whether the other person is a fellow kind."

He implied there was no point in the president trying to deny it.

"..."

The president sat down across from them in silence, fidgeting uncomfortably in his chair.

Normally, he was the one sitting behind the desk, issuing orders to whoever sat here. Now, he was the one in that seat.

It gave him an ominous feeling.

"Mr. President, you should know how many eyes are on your position. You can't afford a single misstep while you're in it."

Ron spoke slowly.

A veiled warning.

Even a minor political scandal could lead to impeachment and removal. If it came out that he was a mutant, everything he had built over years in politics would collapse in an instant. His political enemies would bury him, and prison wouldn't be out of the question.

"What do you want?"

Kenny calmed down and stopped denying it. Since they had come to him, they clearly wanted to use him for something.

He felt a simmering resentment. As one of the most powerful people on Earth, being blackmailed by two strangers was infuriating.

"You must be very busy today, Mr. President?"

"...Don't tell me you're connected to what happened at Cuba."

His instincts were sharp on certain matters. The moment he heard that pointed remark, he jumped, his face twisting with fear.

"Don't look at us like we're terrorists."

Seeing his expression, Raven's tone turned icy with displeasure.

"If it weren't for us today—especially if Ron hadn't stopped Sebastian Shaw from destroying both fleets and triggering a war—the White House might already be in ruins."

"Mr. President, you wouldn't be sitting here listening to Ron speak right now."

She warned him to drop that look.

They had saved the world.

Sure, both fleets were eventually destroyed by one of their own, but at least it hadn't sparked a world war, right?

"You... are you one of those two?!"

In the next chapter, the relationship between the male and female leads takes a new turn. I tried to describe it subtly, but it was still deleted by the censors. If any readers didn't see it, remind me, and I'll edit it back. (Also, to clarify: the author is anti-NTR. Any female lead taken in is always a first. I'll subtly hint at it—if you don't see it, it's been deleted. Keep that standard in mind.)