After a long time spent roaming Earth, The Fulcrum finally awakened to a loftier pursuit—his attention shifted from bikini beauties, money, and gourmet food to power.
Women had already bored The Fulcrum, and even the most exquisite food had become tasteless to him.
Power became his new pursuit.
"I want to run for President of the United States. Believe me, I'm the most suitable candidate for you, and I won't disappoint you!"
The Beyonder beamed confidently at the cameras, flashing an infectious set of white teeth. With an appearance and style identical to Michael Jackson's, he left his competitors far behind in terms of image alone.
The politicians and major capitalists below occasionally burst into laughter, but beneath their discreet exchanges, they could not hide their profound helplessness.
Even now, they had no way to deal with The Fulcrum.
Earth's most powerful superheroes were as fragile as children before this mysterious visitor.
Earth's most advanced technology was nothing more than child's play to him.
It had been manageable before. Women and money, that was all he wanted. They were more than happy to see such a big shot lingering in all kinds of red-light districts. Every somewhat famous nightclub in the world had seen The Fulcrum's presence.
People had even given him the elegant nickname, "Little Prince of Nightclubs."
But now, things were different. This guy had developed an overwhelming interest in power, driving everyone in power to the brink of collapse.
"What do we do? Let this guy take office, then dig a giant pit all around America? He'll absolutely do exactly what he says!"
Several major capitalists exchanged glances, nearly breaking down.
According to the election game of this capitalist world, no matter who became president, they were essentially just spokespersons chosen by a group of major capitalists.