Elo slowly got out of bed. The moment his feet touched the floor, his knees buckled slightly.

He nearly fell, but managed to steady himself by grabbing the bedside table just in time.

This isn’t just simple weakness; it’s the result of five years of deep slumber, leading to muscle atrophy and dulled reflexes.

Elo knew that his mother and Vian were just outside the door; A single shout, and they would immediately come in to help him.

But he didn’t shout, nor did he want to.

Elo stubbornly straightened himself and staggered toward the door, each step a declaration of defiance against his own fragility.

He didn’t want anyone to see his vulnerability.

Especially his mother and Vian, because they were the most important people in Elo’s life, he was even more unwilling to show his vulnerability in front of them.

He knew he had to be strong, because starting today, his journey had already begun.

If he wasn’t strong, he might end up causing the deaths of many people on the journey ahead.

Yet, deep down, another voice whispered to him:

Being ordinary is his true self; it is the sum of his thirty years of life.

Of course, Elo also understood that dwelling on the past was futile.

What the world needs now is an Elo who moves forward, not the one who remains stuck in place.

And he knew this better than anyone else; he had understood this truth a long time ago.

Change his personality, work hard, and become someone who could make a lot of money.

That way, he could give his mother and Vian a better life.

This sentence was like a thorn, deeply etched into his soul, It has never vanished.

But why hadn’t he done it? Was it because he didn’t want a better life?

Of course not. It was simply because he couldn’t do it.

He had once had ideals and had set countless goals for himself.

He bought an entire set of professional exam books, put up a detailed plan, but only stuck to it for three days.

He vowed to stop staying up late, yet always fell into the same vicious cycle.

Every time he started, he told himself, This time will be different.

And every time, the outcome was no different—failure, without exception.

After failing so many times, he became afraid to try again. He even began to believe that being ordinary was his true destiny.

Perhaps he was never meant to be someone who could change his fate.

Elo lowered his head and said to himself:

If I could’ve done it, I would have already done it.

It’s because I can’t that things are the way they are today.

Ordinary is a protective shell, a shell that spares people from facing further pain.

Elo stood in front of the bedroom door, adjusting his breath and organizing his thoughts, ready to face the people on the other side.

He knew very well that it wasn’t just his mother and sister waiting for him behind that door.

On the other side were also some big names.

Among the ten thousand survivors, not a single one was a fool—they were all the elites of human civilization.

And the leaders of these elites were undoubtedly waiting for him behind the door.

Elo truly didn’t want to deal with these prominent figures; he didn’t trust them deep down.

But at this point, there was no choice left, so he grasped the doorknob and gently turned it.

As the door opened, a familiar figure came into view.

His mother, visibly surprised, was the first to step forward, her tone slightly reproachful:

"Why did you get out of bed? You could have just called out, and we would have heard you."

Elo smiled faintly and said, "After five years in bed, getting up and moving around a little feels pretty nice."

His mother sighed helplessly and reached out to support him.

Vian, standing nearby, glanced past Elo’s shoulder into the room and then looked slightly disappointed.

“Where’s Alaya?” she asked.

“She went back,” Elo replied calmly.

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Vian muttered in disappointment, "Why did she have to leave already? I was hoping to grab a quick photo with her or something."

Elo didn’t respond. His gaze shifted to the seven unfamiliar faces in the room.

Each of them exuded an extraordinary demeanor, their eyes sharp or composed, but all without exception showed respect and reverence.

Two Westerners, three Asians, and two Black individuals—it was a composition clearly designed with political considerations in mind.

His mother noticed Elo’s gaze and was about to introduce these people, but Elo spoke first.

Looking at the seven, Elo asked in a calm and straightforward tone, “Who can represent the ten thousand survivors?”

The elderly white man at the front stepped forward with measured composure and spoke in a calm tone, "Your Excellency, I am able to."

He appeared to be about sixty, his silver-white hair neatly combed, his expression calm and imposing.

He stood like an unshakable statue, radiating a presence that couldn’t be ignored.

Without offering much self-introduction, he simply added,

“I am the head of the current government, elected by all survivors through a public vote. I can represent all of us.”

Elo was slightly surprised by this. He had assumed the head of the government would be an Asian, but the reality was clearly different.

After a brief moment of surprise, Elo silently acknowledged in his heart: as expected, everyone here is sharp.

Elo looked at his mother and said calmly, "I want to talk to him alone."

His mother smiled gently, her tone soft as she tried to make things go more smoothly:

"You don’t even know the other party; it’s a bit inappropriate to meet alone. How about Vian and I accompany you instead?"

Vian quickly chimed in, "Exactly, we’ll go together. It’s more convenient and appropriate that way."

Elo shook his head and refused, saying, "With you there, some things would be inconvenient to say."

His mother and Vian immediately understood what Elo meant. He was saying:

If they wanted this conversation to address the core issues rather than remain superficial, they had to let them talk alone.

His mother was somewhat helpless and said nothing more.

Vian also stepped aside, clearing the way.

Elo closed the door, walked to the desk, and pulled out a chair. Turning around, he placed it steadily by the bedside.

Then, he looked at the Prime Minister and said in a calm tone with a hint of respect, "Please, have a seat."

The Prime Minister nodded slightly in acknowledgment and sat down slowly, his movements reflecting his respect for Elo.

Elo returned to his seat on the edge of the bed, leaning forward slightly, his gaze fixed on the Prime Minister.

His tone was calm but carried a sharpness that could not be ignored:

“I can roughly guess the current situation, but let me make one thing clear:

No matter what promises you’ve made to the public, anything involving me or my family of three, I do not acknowledge.

Even if my mother agrees, even if Vian agrees, I do not.”

His voice wasn’t loud, but every word was firm and resolute, filled with uncompromising determination.

“Furthermore, do not attempt to drag my mother or Vian into any political struggles, and certainly don’t try to use them to achieve your goals.

Such actions will only provoke my displeasure and, for you, bring no benefit in the short term while causing significant harm in the long run.”

The Prime Minister’s expression remained calm, showing no trace of surprise, as if Elo’s words had been entirely within his expectations.

“Your Excellency, I completely understand your concerns, and they are not without merit.

But please understand, after the destruction of Earth, the hearts of all people were plunged into despair.

We desperately need some hope to hold up this shattered society.

It is through establishing certain necessary promises and goals that we have been able to gradually rebuild morale and stabilize the situation.”

Then, he shifted the tone of the conversation and continued:

“While it is true that we have made some necessary commitments, we have also been very clear with everyone that these are all temporary.”

He paused, meeting Elo’s gaze, his eyes heavy with sincerity and gravity.

“The parties are temporary. The parliament is temporary. The government is temporary. The constitution and laws are temporary.

And, of course, this includes your status and authority—as the leader of the Human Federation, the emperor, the protector—these too are temporary.

Even the 10,000 survivors, their citizenship in the Human Federation, is merely temporary.”

Elo’s expression darkened instantly upon hearing this. His tone turned cold as he said:

"I’m curious—did you establish a dedicated agency just to study me?

From my childhood to adulthood, analyzing fluctuations in my academic performance and small habits in daily life?

Then, for every significant choice I’ve made, did you build models, run simulations, and hypothesize scenarios to evaluate my psychological state at the time?

Finally, were these analyses compiled into report after report, becoming the basis for decisions made by you so-called high-ranking figures?"

For a moment, the air in the room seemed to freeze.

The Prime Minister did not avoid Elo’s gaze; there was no trace of evasion in his expression—only an even greater sincerity.

“Your Excellency, I hope you can understand that offending you was never our original intention.

Rather, it is because your existence is of utmost importance to us.

Only by understanding you and clarifying your thoughts can we avoid making decisions that might harm you.

This is not just for the sake of all of human civilization but also to better protect you and your family.”

The Prime Minister observed Elo’s movements and continued:

“Your personal privacy has never been compromised. All related information is under Alaya’s strict surveillance.

Anyone attempting to leak such content would be immediately stopped by Alaya.

Furthermore, we have implemented rigorous measures ourselves to ensure that such information remains completely impossible to leak.”

A flicker of anger crossed Elo’s eyes as he lifted his head and let out a cold, mocking laugh. “Completely impossible?”

“And if one day those promises are broken, how do you plan to handle the fallout?”

The Prime Minister’s gaze remained calm as he spoke with measured composure:

“Your Excellency, I cannot deny that every promise comes with inherent risks.

But if such a day ever comes, we will take every necessary measure to protect your interests and safety.

All of our institutional designs are aimed at minimizing these risks to the greatest extent possible.”

He paused briefly, and his tone grew more resolute:

“We deeply understand your significance and are fully aware of the consequences of breaking any promise.

That is why we must ensure the likelihood of a leak is reduced to an absolute minimum.

And if an uncontrollable situation ever arises, we will spare no effort to rectify and recover.

Your trust and your safety are our utmost responsibilities.”

Elo remained silent for a moment. He could see that the Prime Minister’s attitude was sincere, without the slightest hint of perfunctoriness.

A wave of complex emotions surged within him—a mix of helplessness and a touch of understanding.

If he were in the Prime Minister’s position, he might have made the same choices.

Elo sighed softly in his heart, his tone tinged with a trace of weariness as he asked in a low voice,

“My mother and Vian know about this, don’t they? They were involved too, weren’t they?”

The Prime Minister nodded candidly and replied truthfully,

“As you guessed, we acted only after obtaining Madam and Miss Vian’s consent.

Without their approval, Alaya would not have provided us with any information related to you, nor could we have carried out any of our work.”

He continued, his tone carrying a hint of respect and caution,

“Madam and Miss Vian reviewed all the raw data provided by Alaya. Only the information they approved was submitted to the relevant departments.

The final reports also had to pass their review; any content they found unsatisfactory was immediately destroyed, leaving no trace.

Their involvement was crucial, not only to avoid your displeasure but also to earn your trust and to show our respect for you.”