790. Another World-Ending Crisis Averted, Congratulations

"Sir, what do you think?"

On America's west coast, close at hand, within a magnificent black Gothic fortress, the 'Fallen Angel' Sauron watched the livestream in silence.

Think? Think about what?

The eco-maniac's combat power, or the Island Nation's little princess's miracle?

The conference room he occupied had towering pointed-arch windows fitted with brilliant stained glass, resembling a shadowy giant tree;

The massive long table had been cut and polished from a single slab of obsidian; its surface was like an abyss, swallowing the cold candlelight while faintly reflecting the warped images of several wrought-iron chandeliers hanging above—the flames flickered amid metal thorns, stretching the shadows of high-backed chairs into cold swords that crawled up the conference room walls.

Within the solemn, austere, mysterious conference room sat a group of black-robed figures. Yet on the long table before them were modern laptops!

What had happened in Mexico was being spread across the world through the power of Gui Gui, the network god.

In fact, there was no need for a livestream. All they had to do was turn around and push open a window:

They would be able to see the rolling thunderclouds!

"Have the factories everywhere... suspend operations for now."

Only after a long while did Sauron, seated at the head of the conference table, slowly speak.

"The great 'Lord' will eventually return. If He sees a world in ruins, He will surely be saddened."

Sauron had once merely been a lowliest auto worker in Seattle, Washington State. But first he had followed the 'Lord' into battle everywhere, and later he had independently managed such a vast territory. His authority surpassed that of any president or prime minister, and he had long cultivated the bearing of a so-called 'superior.'

In short: he was thick-skinned.

He definitely was not afraid