CHAPTER 395: CHAPTER 393: AOZAWA LAUNCHES CHARGE_1

「Next day, early morning.」

Before the cell phone on the bedside table went off, Aozawa, who was in a deep sleep, heard the sound of someone turning the doorknob.

He woke up quickly but didn’t choose to open his eyes, pretending to continue sleeping.

The approaching Defense Barrier indicated the identity of the person.

What is this all about?

Aozawa was clueless, merely pretending to lift his legs and threw off the blanket that was covering him, exposing his firm muscles.

THUMP.

A silver soup ladle struck his forehead. "Stop faking sleep. You’re clearly awake with all that energy."

The sultry voice made the chilly air feel a bit hot. The alarm on the phone went off, which Morimoto Chiyoda silenced with a swipe of her index finger.

Aozawa complained with his eyes closed, "Chitose, you just barged into my room."

He stopped mid-complaint, opened his eyes, and only then noticed Chitose’s unusual attire.

Her black hair was tied into a single ponytail, and she wore a teal printed apron.

Shoulders, arms, thighs. In the areas the apron didn’t cover, not a stitch of cloth could be seen.

"Chitose, you finally understand the right way to wear an apron! I’m so happy!"

Aozawa instantly became spirited and leaped forward to pounce on her.

Morimoto Chiyoda nimbly dodged his lunge with a playful expression. "What a pity, I’m still wearing clothes underneath."

The light purple tank top and sports shorts were just covered by the apron, creating the illusion from the front that she wasn’t wearing anything.

The back did not give that impression.

"It’s okay. As long as I remember the front, it’s like you’re only wearing an apron by my bedside, telling me to get up."

Aozawa chuckled and added, giving a pat, "Plus, it looks pretty good from here too. Nice curves."

Morimoto Chiyoda didn’t dodge his hand but hit his head with the ladle again and began, "Work hard on the exam today. Don’t do too poorly."

"Chitose, if you reward me once more, I’ll definitely try harder."

"You talk as if you’re studying for me. Quit it and go wash your face and brush your teeth."

Morimoto Chiyoda gave him a look and turned around, her slender waist twisting as she moved to the corridor outside.

In this moment, the beautiful curves seemed to be beckoning something.

Aozawa couldn’t hold back and deliberately jogged up to bump into her.

"MMM~~"

Morimoto Chiyoda was nearly lifted off her feet. Her legs felt as if they’d been electrocuted, tingly and somewhat unsteady.

THUMP, THUMP. She quickly steadied her racing heart, turned around, and hit Aozawa’s forehead with the ladle three times. "You little rascal, are you looking to die?"

"I’m innocent! Weren’t you the one who told me to hurry up and wash up?"

Aozawa looked wronged. That was a close call! I barely managed to control myself. The sensation was so delightful; I almost became a quick-draw artist.

"Heh heh, should I apologize to you then?"

"Of course not."

Aozawa replied with a grin, his tone deep, "Who could blame me for loving you so much."

"Smooth talker."

Morimoto Chiyoda glared at him and hurriedly left the room.

Empiricism can be deadly.

Morimoto Chiyoda had only thought about stoking Aozawa’s desire, but she forgot that the Aozawa of today was different from before—he had become more aggressive.

That one touch had made her heart flutter. Was Aozawa always this intense?

She swallowed, recalling the sensation from her thigh, her body trembling slightly.

Morimoto Chiyoda took a deep breath. Calm down. Don’t let his masculine charm distract you.

Focus on work.

Today was the first day of the G7 Summit; ensuring no mishaps was essential.

「...」

After seeing Aozawa off, Morimoto Chiyoda’s first action was to rush into the bathroom, take off her clothes, but not toss them into the washing machine.

Aozawa, having finished his exam, was bound to return home earlier than she would.

She merely rinsed herself from head to toe with water, then dried off with a towel, took her clothes back to the bedroom, and hid them first.

Morimoto Chiyoda changed into a clean Police Director’s uniform—not the skirt version, but the pants version, convenient in case combat occurred.

It was highly unlikely such an event would happen, yet she couldn’t eliminate the small possibility of an accident.

If someone were to burst out shooting, even if it caused no casualties, it would still be a severe diplomatic incident.

She drove her Bugatti Veyron to Yokota Base and, through the Metropolitan Police Department’s internal channels, checked on the progress of work from all parties.

Midway, a policeman waved a white baton, indicating for her to turn as there was a roadblock up ahead.

Morimoto Chiyoda stopped the car, rolled down the window, and flashed her credentials. "Move the barriers and let me through."

"Yes, Police Director Morimoto! Please proceed!"

The policeman in charge of traffic control quickly ordered the barriers be moved aside upon seeing her face and identification.

Morimoto Chiyoda floored the gas pedal. The Bugatti Veyron roared delightfully down the cleared road, free of pedestrians and other vehicles. She didn’t have to worry about anyone as she sped to Yokota Base.

It was in these moments that she truly felt the beauty of power and her Bugatti Veyron.

She parked the car on the open ground outside Yokota Base. The U.S. Army was responsible for internal security; Morimoto Chiyoda only needed to handle the exterior.

Stepping out of the car, she checked the time: half past eight in the morning.

Morimoto Chiyoda once again utilized her internal channels to inquire about the situation everywhere: the snipers positioned high up, the police managing traffic control, and whether the one-kilometer radius around the Prime Minister’s residence was clear of people.

Every aspect required her attention; there was no room for carelessness or oversight.

She breathed a sigh of relief upon receiving error-free reports from various sources.

A black car approached, the window rolled down, and Kumazo Yasuda sat in the backseat, looking at Morimoto Chiyoda outside and asking, "How are the security preparations for today?"

"Prime Minister, rest assured, there are no abnormalities," Morimoto Chiyoda respectfully replied.

Kumazo Yasuda nodded, opened the car door, and stepped out.

Seeing that not even the Prime Minister’s car could enter, Morimoto Chiyoda felt a slight sense of balance within. The U.S. Army’s stringent measures weren’t solely directed at her as the Police Director but were applied to all Japanese.

She gazed at the blue sky and white clouds, idly asking for updates on the situation in various places again, receiving the same response that there were no issues.

The gates of Yokota Base stood wide open.

CIA agents quickly fanned out to the left and right, carefully scanning their surroundings.

Jack, neatly dressed, stood respectfully behind an elderly man.

This was a figure often seen on television and in the news media.

The Canadian Prime Minister, the Italian Prime Minister, the British Prime Minister...

Leaders of the G7 emerged on foot, surrounded by a large entourage, and began to board their vehicles.

Jack waved at her.

Morimoto Chiyoda had no choice but to toss the keys to a police officer, saying, "Take it back to the Metropolitan Police Department for me."

Then, she approached.

Jack whispered, "If the President asks you anything later, just answer truthfully. You and I will be together in safeguarding the President’s security during this conference."

"Do you really need to be that faint-hearted?"

"I’m so nervous I’m about to wet my pants; this is the President we’re talking about! If anything goes wrong, my future is over."

Jack was well aware of his own abilities; if something unexpected did happen, how could he possibly ensure the President’s safety?

He could let other CIA people help, but Jack was worried about them stealing his thunder. After much consideration, he decided that asking Morimoto Chiyoda was the best option.

She was competent and didn’t belong to the CIA’s hierarchy. The President couldn’t promote her even if he wanted to.

"You owe me one," she stated. Seeing him so helpless, Morimoto Chiyoda decided to lend a hand.

Together with Jack, she got into the President’s limousine.

It was quite spacious inside.

In the back seat sat the President and a tall, burly guard with a shaved head, a black bag at his feet.

"Jack, is this the Police Director?"

"Yes."

Jack nodded, his expression exceedingly docile, not daring to even breathe loudly.

Morimoto Chiyoda glanced at the old man, frail as a flickering candle in the wind. Despite having privately ridiculed the United States more than once for electing such a senile leader, now, face to face with him, she still felt a sense of pressure and tension.

This man, with one foot already in the grave, felt even more dangerous to her than lions or tigers.

Today, the President was unusually lucid and in high spirits. He laughed as he asked, "What kind of person is Dio?"

Morimoto Chiyoda thought for a moment and replied, "I am not sure."

"But you’ve seen him, right? Just describe his appearance."

The old man had heard plenty about Dio in reports, but he still wanted to hear firsthand from someone who had seen Dio. Did their description match the reports, or were there discrepancies?

"Dio is tall, likely over one meter ninety. He prefers wearing somewhat peculiar clothing. He has pale skin and, despite his imposing build, exudes an oddly enchanting aura."

"Is it true that he has lived for over a thousand years?"

"That was said by Griffith in the Different World. Whether it’s true or false, I cannot guarantee."

"Then it must be true."

The President nodded. He was willing to believe that someone could indeed live for over a thousand years. "To live for a millennium and still retain such strength, beauty, and youth—it truly is enviable. How is the Takamagahara Project progressing?"

The topic shifted abruptly, and Jack quickly interjected, "There are thirty-two plans in total, all moving forward as scheduled. The cloning experiments have successfully created clone humans, but they are yet to reach the envisioned level of a super warrior. As for technology, the robotic arm experiments led by the Science Minister of the Hexagram are working on overcoming the difficulty of making them extend and retract smoothly."

The President then asked, "I heard the strongest martial artist on Earth vanished yesterday afternoon. Was he consumed by the new Angel Envoy?"

"No. According to the information we have, Mitsui lied about that. The new Angel Envoy actually gave a three-day deadline. They are searching for Amat’s whereabouts and also looking for alternatives."

"See?" the President said, eyeing Morimoto Chiyoda and sighing, "Everyone has their own agendas, and everyone believes their petty schemes are justified. If they all think that way, how can the United States lead the world?"

Morimoto Chiyoda did not respond.

Jack whispered, "Should we make Mitsui disappear?"

"No rush."

The President replied at his leisure. He wanted to see how the new Angel Envoy would react to Mitsui. Depending on the situation, the United States would decide its response.