NovelCat

What came out of my mouth was fluent English. My English skills were supposedly around TOEIC 600 level, yet somehow I can speak at a native level.

Looking around the room, this is clearly the Oval Office of the White House. On the desk lies the presidential seal, the American flag hangs on the wall. And above all, I can hear the footsteps of Secret Service agents beyond the door.

“This has to be a dream. Definitely a dream.”

I slapped my cheek as hard as I could. It hurt. Definitely hurt. And the Trump in the mirror was slapping his cheek too.

Suddenly, there was a knock on the office door.

“Mr. President, the 10 AM National Security Council meeting is ready.”

It’s an unfamiliar voice, but clearly that of a secretary. I—no, Trump—panicked. National Security Council meeting? There’s no way I could attend such an important meeting. I don’t understand politics at all, and I know nothing about American foreign policy.

“Uh, ah… give me a moment.”

Just as I tried to buy time, information began flooding into my head. Like data being downloaded, America’s political system, current international situations, and most importantly, memories as Donald Trump came rushing back.

The fortune built as a real estate mogul, success in television shows, and victories in the 2016 and 2024 presidential elections. Everything came back vividly. No, rather than remembering, it felt like I had known it all along.

“Mr. President?”

The secretary’s voice came again. There was no escaping now. I took a deep breath and walked toward the door.

Opening the door, there stood an unfamiliar female secretary and two Secret Service agents. They looked at me without any doubt. Of course. I look exactly like Donald Trump.

“They’re waiting in the conference room.”

Walking down the hallway guided by the secretary, I desperately tried to organize the situation. Apparently, I really have been reincarnated as Donald Trump. And it’s now 2025, after he was inaugurated as president again.

Entering the conference room, important figures I’d only seen on TV—the Secretary of Defense, Secretary of State, CIA Director—were lined up. They all stood up simultaneously and greeted me with “Mr. President.”

I sat down at the table with trembling hands. I had no idea what was about to happen.

“Now, let me report on trade negotiations with China.”

The moment the Secretary of State opened the documents, information flooded into my head again. Complex trade relations with China, tariff details, negotiation history. I understood everything.

And I realized something. This reincarnation seems to come with some kind of system. Necessary knowledge is automatically input, and I instinctively know how to behave as Donald Trump.

“So, what is Xi Jinping saying?”

I was surprised by the words that came naturally from my mouth. It was completely Trump’s way of speaking.

“He’s reportedly receptive to renegotiation. However, there appear to be several conditions.”

The meeting proceeded more smoothly than expected. Trump’s memories and knowledge within me guided appropriate questions and instructions.

Two hours later, when the meeting ended, I returned to the Oval Office. Finally alone, but it still didn’t feel real.

Sitting at the desk, I picked up a photograph. It showed his wife Melania and son Barron. The moment I saw this photo, an indescribable emotion welled up. Love. Was this also Trump’s memory?

“Am I really going to live as Donald Trump…”

Looking out the window, I could see the White House gardens. And in the distance, I could hear the voices of protest demonstrations. I experienced firsthand how controversial a figure Trump is.

Just then, the secretary knocked again.

“Mr. President, how are preparations for the 2 PM press conference?”

Press conference. The most terrifying words yet. I’d have to speak as the President of the United States, with the whole world watching.

“…Understood. Let’s prepare.”

I steeled myself. There was no going back to my old life. Adachi Rentaro was dead. From now on, I must live as Donald Trump, as the President of the United States.

And strangely, while feeling the weight of that responsibility, there was a part of me that was excited. As the leader of the world’s most powerful nation, I could move history.

“Alright, let’s do this.”

I smiled at the mirror. There was Donald Trump’s confident expression.

But at that time, I didn’t yet know how difficult, complex, and lonely the office of president would be. And that this reincarnation had a hidden purpose.