Chapter 6

Jean prayed she didn’t hear that right. Clement—no, not here, not in this universe.

She turned anxiously.

The man was standing right in the entrance. The same gel-drenched haircut, the same fancy-looking suit, the same hypocritical smirk on his face.

A knot formed in her throat, and her first instinct was to rise on her feet, shoulders crouched defensively, like a feral animal preparing to face a predator.

But John simply left his seat, arms wide.

“Mr. Clement, it’s an honor to see you in person! I am your biggest supporter. I have voted for you.”

Even Clement himself was taken aback by this enthusiasm. He noticed Jean, and that didn’t seem to sit well with him either. Still, he turned back to John. He squinted and looked at him intently.

Clement smiled broadly, spreading his arms wide. "Ah, a voter! What a pleasant surprise. Do we know each other, Mr…?"

"John. It's John, Mr. Clement, sir. I am a big believer in your work."

Jean frowned, her face twisting in disgust.

"I've been part of your main organization for 10 years," added John, pride evident in his voice.

"Organization?" Clement asked, trying to recall. "Which one?"

"The Clement Orca Anime Support League! I've been an active member ever since high school. Every week, I try to spread our message to everyone in town."

"Ah, that's certainly impressive. I am deeply grateful for all of your effort. The Anime Act passed by the Senate at my initiative was a big step forward for our nation. Truly, it is because of people like you that we are now able to watch anime legally throughout the entire country, without having to resort to piracy and other despicable means."

Jean's disgust drowned in utter confusion. She could bet on her own soul that Clement has never watched a single episode of anime in his entire life.

"Truly, sir. I am most amazed by your devotion to anime," continued John, eyes gleaming with passion.

"Is that everything you admire about me?" Clement asked, a hint of disappointment creeping into his voice. "What about my ecological campaigns? My anti-immigration initiatives? My animal rights debates? My pro-life movement? My loan forgiveness programs?"

Jean rolled her eyes. Is this a joke? Is this guy for real?

“Oh, I support the loan forgiveness programs as well," replied John. "But I’m not sure how I can be more green, sir. I love meat.”

"It's not about the meat," Clement replied, tilting his head as he gestured expressively. "It's about animal cruelty. How can you stand knowing that a poor little cow will be killed so you can have your steak?"

"What's fine-dining?" John asked.

"I, myself, only eat soy-based steaks!" Clement continued passionately." And I take great pride in that. Ever since I won the election, the biggest restaurant in the city added vegan options to their menu. You—the voters—sent a strong message by voting for me. And for that, I thank you."

"S-sir, I didn't understand most of that, but it's an honor! I'm glad I could contribute!"

"Everything in the name of the greater good, John." Clement patted him briefly on the shoulder.

He turned his gaze to Jean. For the entire time, Jean had witnessed the scene with what can only be described as horror and disgust.

"You have no fucking idea how soy even tastes like, Clem, you hypocrite!" Jean sneered across the room.

“Oh, Miss Jean. I hadn’t seen you here," Clement replied with calm. "This used to be your bank, wasn’t it? Why does it look like a café now? And why is money being stuck on the wall? Did the aliens do this?”

He frowned, then pointed upward.

"Oh no! Miss Jean, did you do this yourself? That's even worse. And the supermarket that was broken into—don't tell me that was also your work. I knew you weren't one to respect the law, but I'm quite disappointed in you."

“Who are you to—” Jean started, but Clement cut her off.

"No, that's not a concern for today. I am glad other humans are here. For the longest time, I thought I was the only one. I have everything prepared—a plan to free us from the aliens and regain our freedom."

"Freedom?" John asked, disbelief in his voice. "What do you mean? We are free, aren't we?"

John glanced back at Jean, who stared at him in disbelief.

"We are not free, my good man," Clement replied. "We are under the totalitarian rule of a foreign species that has invaded our nation—beings who have never paid taxes to this country. Utterly unacceptable."

“But sir," John added, visibly confused. "I don’t think the aliens mean any harm to us.”

"That's not the point, John, my loyal friend. We are a nation that has progressed through hard work and our belief in liberty. We cannot accept subjugation by an external species, no matter the cost. Even if they feed us like—"

He paused, his voice dropping to a whisper.

“Do they feed you as well, by the way?”

"Yes, they do," replied John, still confused.

"Did they harm you in any way?" Clement asked, looking at him with a hint of suspicion.

“No... They're nice. They even help me with my painting sometimes. They’re very supportive of my art.”

"Good." Clement's voice returned to normal. "They're following the Geneva Conventions to the letter. I believe we are in no immediate danger. But that doesn't change the fact that we face a grave situation."

"Sir," John said hesitantly, "I haven't been to Geneva, so I can't really tell, but it feels to me like you have something against the aliens, and I'm not sure what."

"It is my humble intuition—and as a politician, I am never wrong—that we must be cautious."

Clement turned his gaze from John to Jean.

"In any case, Jean, our disagreements are in the past. We are the only humans left in this town, and if we are to survive, we must work together."

"Work with a cunning fox like you?" Jean snapped. "You must be mad!"

John looked confused.

“What’s wrong, Jean?”

"John, he's not what he says he is."

But John insisted.

"It's all right, Jean. I'm not saying you're wrong. He's sharp-tongued, certainly, but from what I've seen on social media, I believe he's a good man. He wants to help people."

He turned to Clement.

"He's right. We need to work together. But Mr. Clement, I need to say that I'm not excited about returning to the previous world. I have a lot of debt there."

"Nonsense," Clement replied, waving his hand dismissively. "We will find a way. We'll pass a law that nullifies debts for the poor, then compensate the budget with taxes on the rich."

“Really, sir?” John replied. "Is that a promise?"

"One hundred percent, John. You have my word. But for now, gathering intelligence about the enemy is our priority. I've learned much during my investigations over the last few days."

"Investigations? What have you found?" John asked, intrigued.

Clement looked at him, then at Jean, and said:

"Follow me."

Clement left the café, and John followed him. Jean stayed behind, staring at them as they walked away.

"Jean, are you joining us?" John asked, looking back at her.

"Maybe some other time," she replied, her voice cold and distant, though her eyes betrayed a hint of sadness. "I have some work to do here."