John let the final words of his address echo by, taking a huge gulp out of a plastic bottle to oil up his voice a little bit. In front of him was a crowd of reporters, quickly gathered on Liberty Island upon receiving a mail from the Gamer’s official email account after he had been done discussing things with Scarlett. A crowd that, albeit not quite as large as it had been for the White House announcement, despite being given a whole day to gather, grew steadily in its number of participating channels the more influential he got.

Like anything else that John could use to measure his success on, he liked it. This particular showcase came with an ever-growing pile of scandal-seeking question-askers though, so it definitely wasn’t his favourite.

As to what he had just announced, it had been two rather simple updates packed into a two-minute speech. The joining of the Hidden Tradition into Fusion and the rough implications of that for the military and other such things, as well as Sigmund’s defeat. He packaged the latter as a joined effort between their elite forces, which was technically true. No reason to disclose Thana’s involvement, it would only make the accomplishment look smaller while also reminding (or, worse, informing) people that he had the goddess of genocide around him.

Currently, that little tidbit, much like his relations to Nathalia and the Horned Rat, were discussed in the corners of the internet dedicated to disliking anyone mildly successful. It was best it stayed there. Even better would be if people got a little less resentful towards him, but John had already learned to live with the fact that some people just hated him because he existed. Compared to being bullied by people who could beat him up because they felt like it, having people gossip about him was downright paradise.

‘I could always throw Stirwin at whoever annoys me again,’ John thought, remembering that awful neckbeard last time around. “I will take questions for the next few minutes,” he said out loud, once he had put the bottle down again. “Remain calm and raise your hands, I will pick you and someone will come by and bring you a microphone.”

Immediately a bunch of arms went up. John just hoped they all actually had a question and weren’t just vying for his attention while they thought of one. In the corner of his vision, John saw the red light atop one camera switch off and atop another one switch on, the producer of the livestream having changed angles.

As was usual, Fusion streamed and uploaded the complete recordings of its press events on its own website. Just because John didn’t particularly care for leaving the narrative completely in the hands of news organizations that he didn’t know. It was unlikely that a lot of people would go through the trouble of actually watching those streams, given the media cuts were much higher in quality, but having those things out there for things that may have gotten cut out was sitting well with him.

“You there,” John picked someone at random and an aide quickly walked towards the reporter. It was a person with the body of a person, but the claws and the face of a praying mantis. How somebody even managed to write articles in that form was beyond him.

“Are there any new developments in the war against the Lake Alliance that the public should know about?” she, at least judging by the tone of her voice, asked with only a minor undertone of clacking mandibles.

“Our strategy against the Lake Alliance remains purely defensive right now,” John answered swiftly; this was one of the questions he had anticipated. “Fusion didn’t want this war and we don’t intend to fight it until we can bring it to a swift end or if we are left with no other choice. The Hidden Tradition has agreed to guard part of our border while the southern pacification reaches its conclusion.” The reporter seemed ready to continue, but John quickly stated. “No follow-up questions, I need to be elsewhere soon.”

Although the praying mantis woman continued to talk regardless, with the microphone quickly taken from her mouth, her voice barely reached John’s ears as he picked the next person. A living heap of slime, unshapen and honestly grotesque, raised its squelching voice. The Gamer couldn’t help but think he was looking at some sort of Nurglite demon. Thankfully, this one didn’t stink. “Wiiiilll the reeeceeeent taaaax increases persist paaast the waaar?”

“In all likelihood, yes,” John answered honestly. “And they might get a bit higher even, but nowhere near what people paid before Fusion took over. They might get lowered again once our international trade is operational. For the moment the funds are necessary to pay our soldiers.” ‘And to give Scarlett the means to buy up Amacat from within,’ he silently added.

Next up was some sort of midget of the dwarven variety, broad and with a huge beard. “Are there any plans to expand the Mines?”

That was a bit outside of current affairs, so John needed a moment to think about that one. “I assume you mean the ones on this island?” A quick nod confirmed this. “I have every intention to, but it’s not entirely up to me. There are special requirements in play to upgrade any Building in my Guild Hall. To put it short: yes, but I can’t right now.”

The dwarf handed the microphone back with an obviously displeased expression. In the meantime, John was just impressed that he actually had dwarves working in his Mine. Since handing the hiring for that job over to some quickly set-up office, he hadn’t really thought about that Building. Hell, he hadn’t even been in it himself since it upgraded to Tier 2. ‘I should probably change that soon,’ he thought, curious what had changed.

A couple more questions followed. Regarding his plans to do this or that, what Fusion wanted to invest next in regarding infrastructure, how certain buildings came along, what he thought about the state of public transportation and other such things. After about thirty minutes of this and with as many raised hands as at the start of the conference, John announced that he was done.

Much to his surprise, he was approached by a single interviewer after he stepped away from the podium. During the first few conferences, that behaviour had been normal, but after a while people had learned that he was done when he said he was done and to not harass him any further. At the very least not while Aclysia was around, anyway.

Seeing who this interviewer was, however, John was less surprised upon her assuming she could get past the weaponized maid. She was a blonde, pretty tall, but with enough size difference between her and him that she would need to get on her toes to kiss him. Two cat ears sprouted from her head, as golden as her hair, with a fitting tail gently waving from behind her curvy hips. Even more of an eye catcher, however, lay north of her narrow waist, in the form of a pair of tits in the ‘decently large’ category.

That she was wearing some sort of mixture between suit and corset definitely helped to emphasize those breasts, the view ending just before anyone could hash a glance at her areolas. John knew this catgirl, she was the hostess of that midnight show he had been on before and the one he still hadn’t gotten to fuck despite his immense wish to. He also, as he had to admit to being pretty shallow in his desires at that moment, had forgotten her name. Luckily, he had a tool to solve this.

“Cindy,” John greeted her happily with a hug, thinking she wouldn’t mind given her Relationship Score. He was correct, she happily answered his open arms by throwing herself into them, her large breasts squishing against his chest like pillows of raw happiness. The indiscrete clicking of cameras and flashlights accompanied the event. Although the Gamer had already resolved himself to the consequences of fucking a show hostess, he still didn’t like this public display. “How about we take this somewhere slightly more private?”

“Sure, President Newman,” she answered with a smile on her glossy lips. It wasn’t the unfair, natural level of shine that Rave’s lips had, instead stemming from lipstick. Cindy was a girl of natural beauty, but professional use of make-up elevated her to gorgeous. While the Gamer still preferred his girls and their unaltered appearances, he wasn’t one to condemn the use of outside help, especially if it was kept in healthy moderation. The Artificial Spirit’s appearance was technically just one big make-up, now that he actually gave the topic a bit of thought.

“John is completely fine,” he assured, as they walked the little distance to John’s palace together and took up one of the many discussion chambers on the lower floor. “This is the third time we meet and I honestly want to finally take you up on the offer you made the first time around,” he joked when they had the wanted privacy, only the two of them and the diligently watching Aclysia in the room.

As the weaponized maid approvingly noted, Cindy’s reaction to John words was to reach up to the buttons on her vest. “We can make good on that right now,” she stated, her red eyes looking him up and down with unveiled want.

Sadly, John had to raise his hand haltingly. “I don’t really have the time right now,” he had to confess. “I am going on a diplomatic mission in two days,” he slipped out, the blood missing from his brain making him a bit naïve. That was all he accidentally told her, however. “I do have to make some preparations for that. Paperwork, meetings, the day is only so long, you know?”

“Mhm, the day is indeed,” she sighed, dropping back in the velvet chair. The look in her eyes changed to a mischievous coaxing. “How about the night, then? You could always cum on my show again. The one time we had was cut rather short.”

‘Oh, she’s good,’ Siena laughed inside John’s mind. ‘I wonder how loud this little kitty can purr.’

John ignored her in favour of trying to suppress his growing erection despite his waning attention to things not firm, jiggly, bouncy, wet or a combination of the four. “That would work, whenever you can make time for me. I will be occupied for a little while, but I’ll make sure to write you when I get back.”

“How about tonight?” Cindy put it directly. “We can make special room for you, I am sure.” Bowing over the table, her hands travelled towards him like a cat on the prowl. Her smile revealed a pair of tiny fangs, as white as pearls.

“I… don’t have time tonight,” John had to regretfully inform her. “Still too much to do.”

“Tomorrow?” she kept pushing and the Gamer kept wanting to cave. As quick as he could, he checked his schedule on Saturday. If there was one thing he missed about school, it was having weekends off guaranteed. He had to attend the opening of a new police station on the west end, make an inspection of the harbour, do paperwork, continue his rehabilitation training and squeeze some normal sex in between all of that.

‘If I agree, I won’t be able to sleep for more than two hours, in all likelihood,’ John thought, remembering what more he had to do on the following morning, making sure everyone knew how to reach him and who was in charge of what in his absence. However, one glance at the catgirl’s boobs and he finally found a solution. “I can’t do Saturday either,” he told her, watching her ears sink like airless balloons. “Do you do shows on Sunday?”

“Normally not,” she immediately perked up again, smelling the hope in the air. “But we can put up a special, I am sure of it!”

Since John would be leaving on Monday, he could make up for lost sleeping time by napping on the train. Unlikely to be the most pleasant experience, but he would survive. Not like he had to be at Lake Champlain at any given time, he just didn’t want to waste anymore than he had already.

“Alright,” he nodded, “you make sure of that with your producers and let me know at least 12 hours in advance, okay?”

Cindy nodded repeatedly and when they got up to depart, hugging him again, she grabbed his junk during the motion. Gasping, she stepped back. “I am looking forward to this,” she smirked widely, and John returned the favour by slapping her on the firm ass in the miniskirt as she stepped out the door.

“As am I,” he said, as if that wasn’t abundantly clear already. Then the wood separated them and John relaxed. No matter how much he wanted to push Aclysia against the nearest wall right now, the next opening in his schedule for sex wouldn’t come about until he had a clear conscious in regards to this other thing he needed to do today.