Late-Night News

In the dead of night, many people, each carrying different thoughts and excitement, clicked through various links online and opened translated livestreams—

Washington, D.C., Pennsylvania Avenue, White House West Wing Press Briefing Room.

This place, once complained about by reporters—"Couldn't they build a friendlier, larger, more beautiful press briefing room?"—was now packed to the brim, crowded with people coming and going, lights flashing everywhere!

Clearly, this venue had made an exceptional allowance today, welcoming many more mouths that had not undergone "strict selection"—yes, in the past, only certain carefully selected traditional media outlets had been qualified to attend such press conferences.

But today, there was only one protagonist who mattered—

The lights focused on the podium ahead. A middle-aged man, looking fully prepared, stood alone behind the raised lectern. His brown hair was neatly combed, his tie dark blue, and a restrained smile lingered on his face. Yet when he faced the microphones, his expression turned somewhat solemn.

Before him stood a dense cluster of microphones. Below the stage sat reporters from every kind of media outlet, holding their breath, fully equipped, their eyes blazing as if they wanted nothing more than to pounce forward.

"—I'm very pleased to see so many old and new friends. Of course, for most viewers, today is probably our first meeting."

"First, let me introduce myself. I am the White House's current press office spokesperson, Quincy Wallington, fifty-three years old, residing in northeastern Washington—"

"Oh, yes, of course I'm sober. Rest assured, this is not a joke. Today is not April Fools' Day, and the person standing before you is not a child in a Halloween pumpkin-head hat asking for candy—"

After briefly livening the atmosphere, this clearly unconventional spokesperson finally waved a hand and got to the point—

"Following confirmation by the Federal