24 hours later, most of Tokyo's population had been evacuated within the 20th Ward's barrier. The Self-Defense Forces and United States military were helpless outside the barrier; no weapon could penetrate this invisible defense.
Allen stood atop the Tokyo Tower, looking down at the city, which was almost empty except for the 20th Ward. The night wind ruffled his black trench coat, and his crimson eyes were particularly striking in the darkness.
Behind him, Yoshimura Kuzen, Arima Kishou, and others stood silently, awaiting further instructions.
"The annihilation of the United States fleet is just the beginning," Allen's voice was calm but carried an undeniable power. "Their government must pay the price for the nuclear attack."
"What do you plan to do next? Cross the Pacific to Washington?" Yoshimura Kuzen asked.
Allen didn't turn around: "It's not that much trouble."
...Washington D.C., White House Situation Room.
President Johnson watched gravely as satellite images showed the burning wreckage of the USS Ronald Reagan Carrier Strike Group in Tokyo Bay.
The entire room was silent, save for the faint hum of machinery.
"We lost the entire Seventh Fleet," the Secretary of Defense's voice was dry, "and it was destroyed by our own nuclear bomb."
Suddenly, all screens flickered simultaneously, turning to static. Alarms shrieked, but a few seconds later, they eerily fell silent.
"What's going on?" the President demanded sharply.
Before he finished speaking, a black figure slowly materialized in the center of the Situation Room. Allen appeared out of thin air, as if he had always been there.
Secret Service agents instantly drew their guns and aimed: "Don't move!"
Allen didn't even glance at them, his crimson eyes fixed on the President: "Mr. Johnson, you authorized the nuclear strike on Tokyo."
The President's face was ashen: "You, how did you—"
"I've come to collect the price," Allen interrupted him. He gently raised his hand, and all the weapons in the Secret Service agents' hands, along with their bodies, simultaneously turned to dust, scattering in the air.
The Secretary of Defense instinctively pressed the emergency button, but there was no response.
"It's useless," Allen walked slowly towards the President. "This building has been isolated by my Psychokinesis field. Your so-called defense systems are as good as nothing before me."
The President tried to compose himself: "What do you want? We can negotiate."
"Negotiate?" Allen chuckled. "When you decided to launch a nuclear bomb at a city of tens of millions, you already lost the right to negotiate."
He stopped in front of the President, gently touching the latter's forehead with his finger. The President's body began to tremble violently, his eyes rolled back, and saliva uncontrollably drooled from the corners of his mouth.
"What, what did you do to me?" the President asked with difficulty.
"Just letting you experience the suffering of those who died because of you," Allen's voice was cold. "Of course, this is far from enough."
The Secretary of Defense seized the opportunity, lunging from behind with a military dagger in his hand. Allen didn't even turn his head, merely waving his hand backward.
The Secretary of Defense's body was instantly crushed by an invisible force, turning into a Vague mass of flesh and blood that splattered across the entire control panel.
The Situation Room was dead silent. The remaining officials froze in place, not daring to move.
Allen withdrew his finger. The President slumped in his chair, his eyes vacant, saliva still drooling from his mouth.
Allen's voice echoed throughout the Situation Room, "Within 24 hours, all senior generals involved in today's decision must surrender, otherwise, I will personally visit each of their families."
He turned and walked towards the wall. To the horror of everyone present, his body passed directly through the metal wall and disappeared.
Minutes later, the Secret Service finally broke through the sealed door, but it was too late.
The President was rushed to the hospital, where he was diagnosed with permanent psychological trauma and deemed unable to continue his duties.
Meanwhile, under Allen's precise Psychokinesis control, an incredible scene unfolded in the White House's secret underground archives.
Heavy safe doors silently slid open, and top-secret paper documents floated into the air, as if being meticulously reviewed and sorted by invisible hands.
These paper archives, containing decades of the United States' secret operations, military deployments, and diplomatic conspiracies, passed through layers of security enveloped by Psychokinesis, disappearing into the walls of the basement...Suddenly, an image was broadcast on every television station worldwide: United States officials began to confess uncontrollably, detailing their crimes of corruption, abuse of power, and even conspiracy.
All global media platforms simultaneously broadcast this shocking scene.
The Chairman of the Joint Chiefs of Staff stood up and began to provide a detailed confession of how he manipulated arms procurement and received kickbacks.
A senior senator interrupted his speech, tearfully admitting his improper dealings with foreign governments.
At CIA headquarters, the director was issuing a gag order but suddenly began a live broadcast, revealing dozens of illegal assassinations and operations to overthrow foreign governments.
The entire United States government system collapsed within minutes, shocking the world.
A week later, order in Tokyo gradually returned. After the Washuu Family's downfall, the CCG was temporarily taken over by Arima Kishou, who began negotiating coexistence plans with Ghoul representatives.
Allen stood atop the Tokyo Tower, looking down at the city gradually regaining its vitality. Yoshimura Kuzen came up behind him:
"The negotiations went smoothly. Thanks to you."
Allen raised his hand to interrupt: "I just did what I wanted to do."
"Are you leaving?"
Allen didn't answer, merely gazing at the distant horizon. After a long while, he softly said:
"There's nothing in this world that can fully satisfy me."
Absolute power had completed its evolution, and this world's traversal value had been maxed out. There was no longer any value for him to stay.
His figure began to blur, as if merging into the afterglow of the sunset.
"Tell Arima, I look forward to his growth."
When the last ray of sunlight disappeared over the horizon, Allen's figure also vanished completely, leaving only a sentence echoing in the air:
"The path of the strong has no end."
Yoshimura Kuzen stood alone atop the Tokyo Tower. After a long while, he softly sighed:
"May you find an opponent worthy of a fight."
Below, Tokyo's lights lit up one after another, like stars scattered on earth. A new city was being reborn from the ruins.
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