Chapter 764: [Extra] American Salvation Record: The Founding Father’s Demon-Slaying Legend

Lincoln cried out in agony and plummeted from mid-air.

"Watch this!"

Franklin leaped into the air.

He activated every electromagnetic coil on his body. The Lightning Rod Guide in his hand connected to the clouds.

A torrent of celestial lightning erupted from his body, forming a massive electrical net that enveloped the golden dragon.

But the golden dragon swept its tail toward him.

The tail was composed of countless patent barriers and monopoly contracts. It was heavy and hard.

CRACK! The dragon’s tail swept past, and the Lightning Rod Guide in Franklin’s hand was snapped in two.

Franklin coughed up blood as he was sent flying backward.

"Covering fire!"

Roosevelt violently yanked the control stick. The Gatling guns on either side of his wheelchair whirred to life, spitting long tongues of flame.

But the air around the golden dragon suddenly grew viscous.

It was a zone of market volatility, a product of over-financialization.

Once the bullets entered this zone, their velocity slowed to a crawl until, their value having depreciated, they fell harmlessly to the ground.

The golden dragon let out a low growl. It dove, and its massive talons seized the wheelchair’s treads.

BANG!

The steam-powered wheelchair was ripped from the ground, tumbling a dozen times through the air before smashing into the muddy ruins below.

The boiler burst, and its components scattered across the ground.

Roosevelt lay in the ruins, the smoking pipe in his hand snapped in two.

Washington roared. He leaped from the pile of rubble, raising high his cherry wood axe, which pulsed with a dark red glow.

He transformed into a red meteor, streaking straight for the throat of the golden Leviathan.

Just as the blade of the axe was about to touch its scales, a ghastly green curtain of light erupted around the great dragon.

"Field of Market Fluctuation."

Washington felt his battle-axe enter an incredibly strange medium.

The moment his powerful, heavy strike touched the green light, its force was violently deconstructed and diluted.

CLANG!

The cherry wood axe struck a scale on the golden dragon’s neck. A microscopic inscription was carved on it: "Too Big to Fail."

Sparks flew.

The impact triggered a shockwave visible to the naked eye.

However, the axe had not penetrated.

The once incomparably sharp blade had actually been dulled by its contact with the scale.

Washington felt an overwhelming rebound force surge up his arm and into his shoulder. The web of his hand split open, and blood streamed down his arm.

In the first exchange, the group of four was instantly routed.

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Chapter 7: The Reforging of the Sword of Truth

[For the letter kills, but the spirit gives life. What was lost will be reborn in blood and fire.]

On Manhattan, the wind howled like a beast.

Washington stood alone atop the ruins of the Golden Fortress. His deep blue uniform, once a symbol of pride for a nascent nation, had been reduced to tattered strips of cloth.

The golden Leviathan circled overhead, casting a vast shadow.

"Give up, you ghost of a bygone era."

The golden dragon swooped down, its massive head coming to a halt before Washington.

"Your Declaration of Independence is nothing but a two-hundred-year-old dream."

"In this era, in my domain, Capital is the one true God!"

Washington looked down at the blunted cherry wood axe in his hand.

An axe could fell a cherry tree, but it could not cleave this intangible barrier forged from greed and numbers.

And so, he made a decision.

Washington opened his hand.

The axe fell to the ground with a CLANG.

He raised his head and bit open his index finger.

Blood welled forth.

He raised his finger, using the overcast sky as his parchment and the blood from his fingertip as his ink.

"Before God, we solemnly declare this self-evident truth."

Washington loudly recited the words that had once set a continent ablaze.

His voice pierced the storm, echoing across Manhattan.

"All men are created equal, that they are endowed by their Creator with certain unalienable Rights, that among these are Life, Liberty and the pursuit of Happiness!"

Lincoln, lying in a pool of his own blood, heard this cry echoing across time.

He struggled to prop himself up, gazing at Washington’s heroic silhouette against the sky as the fire was rekindled in his eyes.

"Merely declaring equality is not enough," Lincoln’s voice joined in. "For this truth, we must act. I do order and declare that all persons held as slaves... shall be then, thenceforward, and forever free!"

These were the words of the Emancipation Proclamation.

In the ruins nearby, Roosevelt also struggled to sit up.

"Yes, my brothers." Roosevelt’s voice was deep and strong. "Freedom cannot merely exist on paper."

"I declare that, in addition to freedom of speech and worship, the people must also have freedom from want and freedom from fear!"

These were the words of the Four Freedoms.

The voices of three great national figures, three spirits transcending their respective eras.

In that instant, they merged into one.

This was a grand evolution.

The spirit of the Constitution was no longer a rigid dogma. It was being constantly redefined in a baptism of blood and fire, endlessly imbued with new life.

The blood on Washington’s fingertip exploded against the gloomy sky, transforming into a pillar of blindingly brilliant golden light.

This pillar of light contained the founding father’s original vision, the liberator’s resolve, and the savior’s compassion.

It plummeted from the heavens with the force of a thunderbolt, piercing the indestructible chest of the golden Leviathan.

"AARRRGH—"

The golden dragon let out a soul-shattering wail.

Its massive body began to crumble and disintegrate.

A sky full of US Dollar bills fluttered down like snowflakes, then dissolved into a foul, coppery rain that fell into the Hudson River.