"Pitsu? How do you kno—" Robin's expression shifted instantly. The surprise that had colored his face just seconds earlier evaporated without a trace. Now, seriousness carved itself into his features. "Are you watching ?"
the fairy replied with a faint smile, her voice light but laced with a subtle undertone of concern. the fairy nodded in approval.
Then she tilted her head and said gently,
"You an the galaxy of Morpheus the Drear?" A wide grin stretched across Robin's face, mischievous and sharp. "I always thought this was a neutral network—a place where all could participate without interference or pressure. Are you showing your true colors now?"
the fairy replied with a gentle, almost motherly smile that held neither arrogance nor pity—only sincere concern.
Robin's lips curved into a faint, artificial smile—one that didn't reach his eyes.
"Yeah. Do that."
And with a single, fluid motion of his fingers, he closed the link to the Soul Society.
Then… silence.
A heavy, unnatural quiet fell across Robin's soul domain like a thick blanket smothering all motion. Birds paused mid-chirp, perched motionless atop crystalline branches. The fish beneath the surface of the tranquil lakes stilled completely, no longer dancing in playful spirals. The wind dared not rustle the leaves. Every living being in that domain—even those that did not understand language—could feel it: the cold shift in their master's aura, the heavy fog of frustration and contemplation cloaking his presence.
"…Owner," Neri's voice ca at last, soft and cautious like dew sliding off a blade. She approached slowly, each step echoing subtly through the tension that ruled the air. "Is this truly sothing worth disturbing your peace over? It's not like you entered the Soul society blind to the stakes. You knew the dangers."
"You're right." Robin's voice ca with a tired exhale, deep and drawn-out. It was the sound of a man who had fought too many battles in too short a ti. "Still… everything just spiraled. It slipped out of my hands before I even noticed. And now…"
He paused.
"…Now I don't even know what the right path is anymore."
A long, painful quiet passed between them before Neri broke it again—her words slower this ti, as if picking each one carefully from the fog of thought.
"…If you could return to that mont—when you first ca to the Middle belt… would you have done anything differently?"
"No."
Robin lifted his head, firm and unflinching, as though he were anchoring himself to the very essence of that choice.
"No hesitation. No regret. I needed the pearls then, and I still do. Billions of them."
He shook his head, slowly, almost bitterly.
"If I hadn't done what I did in the Soul Society, I'd have been forced to go elsewhere—to search for other patrons, new sponsors. I would've had to negotiate, beg, manipulate, run circles around people far more dangerous than they appear, all just to buy myself a sliver of safety. And for what? For the sa uncertain outco."
A sardonic smile played across his lips, heavy with irony.
"Yes, that fairy—and the ones running the Soul Society—they're greedy, undeniably. But their greed is structured, professional. They chase profit like wolves chase the scent of blood. I am, to them, just a new opportunity. A new vein of gold. But compared to the imnse treasure hoarded by Morpheus the Drear and his kin over tens of millions of years… what am I? A footnote? A curious little insect drifting across their eternal stream."
He looked off into the distance.
"They may try to extract value from , may try to push to my limits—but they have no real reason to kill . Not yet. Not while I'm still useful."
"If you feel no regret…" Neri said gently, folding her arms across her chest, "and if you believe there was never any other path… then what are you waiting for? Why hesitate now?"
Her voice wasn't accusatory. It was calm. Grounded.
"Keep going. Keep building. But… draw a line sowhere. Remaining in the spotlight without the power to match the attention? That's foolish. Let the world forget you—just for a while."
"…You're right." Robin nodded slowly, once… twice. "Fifty years from now, the Planetary Displacent Tool Auction will be held. Once that concludes… I'll take a break. Maybe for a long while. Maybe forever."
Then, turning toward her, he gently reached out and ran his fingers through her silver-blue hair, ruffling it with the affection of an older brother.
"Anyone who hears you talk like this would swear you're so wise ancient spirit—an oracle cloaked in centuries of knowledge. They'd never imagine you're the sa chaotic creature who recklessly spawned dozens of sentient races and accidentally attracted the wrath of the Red Plague with your mischief."
"..."
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