Bella was still at the beginner stage with Semitic languages. Amharic, as a Semitic language, required a lot of guesswork on her part—she could only grasp the general meaning.
The book was authentic, of course, and it did mention Kennedy and various ritual ceremonies. If someone approached it with preconceived notions about mysticism, they'd be easily misled.
As for whether the book mentioned secret passages, that depended entirely on interpretation. The translation was flexible—it could mean "direction" or "swamp" with equal validity. Even if the president later found Ethiopian experts, they'd have a hard time exposing Bella's deception...
She lifted a tapestry hanging on one wall, revealing a rather complex geometric pattern beneath.
This was the escape route she'd prepared for her family. If enemies breached the underground bunker, she'd lead them through the dream world to escape—a psionic technique she'd figured out during her battle with Freddy Krueger.
The dream world was relatively dangerous. Best to avoid it if possible. Plus, she hadn't figured out how to explain it to her family, so she'd held off on using it.
Now she had no choice.
Running the Weyland Magic Item Store meant aging objects was routine work. The array on the wall looked like it had weathered decades of time, nothing like a fresh drawing.
Bella pulled down the tapestry and casually rolled it into a ball, tossing it to Natasha.
Her convenient younger sister knew her well enough. She unobtrusively examined the tapestry a couple times, though she couldn't make anything of it.
The black president didn't notice their little exchange—and even if he had, he wouldn't have cared.
A dirty old tapestry? How could that compare to his position?
American mysticism had influenced him too. Staring at the array on the wall while Bella alternated between English and incomprehensible Amharic to explain President Kennedy's ritual, his mind turned to mush.
"You mean—you mean I can walk through this wall?" He pointed at it, utterly incredulous.
Charlie, Samantha, and Duke gathered around to watch.
Faced with Bella's Amharic, they could only wear expressions of impressed confusion.
Bella answered with deliberate uncertainty: "Yes, at least that's what the book says."
The young tour guide Donny slapped his hands together excitedly: "This is the tunnel Kennedy used to sneak Marilyn Monroe into the White House, isn't it?"
Bella smiled awkwardly but politely. There was indeed a tunnel Kennedy had used for Marilyn Monroe, and according to her detection, it wasn't far from their current position. Her plan did require using that passage—though it didn't connect to the bunker directly. It existed as an independent tunnel.
Between the tunnel and the bunker lay over a hundred meters of solid concrete. They'd need her array to borrow a path through the dream world.
The black president had no confidence whatsoever. He desperately wanted someone to test it first.
"I'll check it out." Charlie volunteered. The black president's opinion of the family of four kept improving.
Charlie wasn't reckless. He reached out to touch the wall—and something miraculous happened. His hand vanished into thin air, as if entering some wondrous space.
"Whoa!"
"Oh my God!"
"That's not scientifically possible!"
The onlookers erupted in exclamations. Even Bella and Natasha, who'd guessed part of the truth, put on expressions of utter shock.
Samantha tied a rope around her husband's waist. Charlie went in hand first, then foot, until his entire body disappeared before the wall, entering the dream world.
Less than ten seconds later, he tugged the rope. Samantha and the others pulled together, hauling him back.
"It's no good! Too dark inside! Can't see a thing!"
His words instantly crushed everyone's hopes, the president's most visibly.
"Won't flashlights work?" Duke asked.
"No use. I turned mine on, but the light seemed to get absorbed by something."
Bella asked seriously: "Were there any walls or anything around you?"
"Nothing. I felt around—didn't touch anything. Even the ground felt strange..."
Everyone fell silent. Without light, nobody could go in. Bella wore a crestfallen expression that Natasha found fascinating.
"What clue are we still missing?"
"Damn it! We must be missing something!"
"Everyone help me look! The clue has to be in these notes!"
Bella frantically tapped her forehead while the others flipped through books with her. Nobody knew what they were looking for, but the atmosphere grew intensely tense.
The black president looked thoughtful. When he'd taken office, he'd been briefed on many classified American secrets. Now his mind raced, searching for the key item to break the deadlock.
With purpose and direction, he searched the books. Soon enough, he found a lead—George Washington's journal.
Without alerting anyone, the president examined it alone. The word usage differed from modern English, but it was still readable.
He rapidly scanned the journal and discovered it was Washington's own handwriting. The founding father mentioned something very strange: a Golden Apple!
The journal said this Golden Apple emitted "a golden light that reveals one's inner truth." The black president nodded excitedly—wasn't this exactly what they needed?
But Washington's era predated this underground bunker by far. Had the Golden Apple come first, with later presidents excavating this pitch-black tunnel based on their predecessors' work?
He quietly checked other books—journals from various presidents.
Among them were Franklin D. Roosevelt's and John F. Kennedy's.
President Kennedy had left behind a secret passage. The founding father had left behind an apple that emitted golden light. He didn't believe the two weren't connected.
But where was this Golden Apple that could light their way?
After confirming his theory, he called everyone together to discuss.
Bella downplayed her role in the whole affair, looking like a confused bookworm puzzling over texts.
"Could it still be in the White House?"
"Maybe the Library of Congress?"
"Lincoln Memorial?"
Everyone threw out suggestions, naturally to no avail.
"It should still be in this bunker. Let's all search together." The black president had completely abandoned any notion of keeping state secrets from citizens. Anxiety consumed him—he just wanted to get out. America's secrets meant nothing compared to his presidency.
With Bella and Natasha subtly steering them away, the family of four stayed far from the floor panel with the hidden compartment. They touched and examined everything they saw, naturally wasting time until Duke finally found the secret door and called everyone over to look.