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"Mmm…" Robin frowned slightly and sighed softly. "Honestly, I want to spend more time with you too, but Penacony is really busy right now. Once things settle down a bit, it should get better."
She could clearly feel Sol's fondness for her, and it made her genuinely happy—this was proof of his feelings.
However, time was limited, and that inevitability filled her with regret.
"How about letting Sunday help you take care of things?" Sol said with a faintly mischievous smile. "I think Sunday would be more than happy to share your burden. What you're doing right now is basically cleaning up after his ideals."
"Besides, he spends his days weaving beautiful dreams anyway. He's familiar with this sort of work. Let him suffer a little—I'll enjoy the benefits."
Sunday's dream weaving had indeed become more troublesome than before.
This time, the dreams were divided into two categories. One type gently guided people upward, encouraging those with sound minds to rediscover hope in life. The other was an endless descent, granting those near death a final moment of warmth.
The guiding dreams required constant adjustment based on individual circumstances and consumed an enormous amount of energy.
Even so, they were only meant for a limited group of people. Compared to the past—when dreams blanketed all of Penacony—this workload was far lighter.
Sol truly couldn't bear to see Robin continue exhausting herself, and he'd also heard that Sunday liked to keep an eye on him in secret.
A songbird who loved to sing had no time to sing—let alone teach him how.
Even today's time together had been nothing more than a stolen moment of leisure.
So, Robin… please be happy again.
And you too, dear brother-in-law—find yourself something to do and stop reminding your sister every day to watch out for scumbags.
"Mm… this idea…" Robin's eyes lit up slightly as she nodded, clearly tempted. "It does sound pretty good."
Yes—her brother should shoulder part of the responsibility.
He needed to see for himself just how much trouble he'd caused Penacony this time, and how much Sol had done to fix it.
Before this, he'd always told her to stay calm and keep her distance from Sol.
He needed to suffer a little to understand reality.
Seeing her tempted, Sol said decisively, "Then let's call him over right now."
"Mm."
Robin nodded and immediately sent a message.
Not long after, Sunday hurried over upon receiving it.
He had to give his sister a lesson—he absolutely couldn't let Sol succeed so easily. To help her, he'd even studied scumbag psychology, determined to pull his sister out of the pit.
Even if she couldn't climb out, he'd at least make sure she firmly held her ground.
Sol was a good person—but Sol with designs on his sister was not a good person.
Of course, if Sol were a woman coming after him, that would be a different story. His will was firm—he would never give in.
The moment Sunday opened the door, he asked anxiously, "Robin, why did you call me?"
His gaze swept across the room, and his heart immediately sank.
Robin was sitting on the sofa, and right beside her was Sol, wearing a relaxed smile. Though the two of them looked perfectly proper, the distance between them was far too close.
At the same time, Robin's lips seemed a little swollen. Was it from overwork?
No matter what, Sol was right next to Robin.
Robin—this is dangerous.
"It's like this, Brother." Robin placed both hands on her knees and spoke seriously. "I've realized there are some things I can't handle very well on my own. I need your help."
She looked at Sunday expectantly. "If you could—"
Sol cut in smoothly, smiling with confidence. "Actually, I don't think that's necessary. I can handle it just fine. With my abilities, it's no trouble at all."
"Robin, we can deal with it together."
He reached out and wrapped an arm around her waist, projecting a strong sense of reliability.
A shy blush bloomed across Robin's face, vivid and bright. "W-Wouldn't that trouble you too much?"
She wasn't good at acting, but thinking back to the intimate singing lesson from earlier, her face naturally flushed.
I hope my brother didn't notice anything.
"Yes—exactly!" Sunday fixed his gaze on the hand around Robin's waist and spoke solemnly. "Mr. Sol, you've already given far too much for Penacony. We owe you an immeasurable debt—one we can never fully repay."
"If we trouble you again with these remaining matters, it would be completely inappropriate."
"Please rest. I'll take care of it. Though I've committed grave sins, I've already repented. I also have extensive experience handling Penacony's major affairs."
"Leave these matters to me. Please go and rest in peace."
Take your hand off my sister right now.
Things had already reached this point—Robin clearly hadn't taken his warnings to heart.
According to scumbag psychology, if a scumbag succeeds too quickly, he'll lose interest just as fast.
Little sister, I can't watch you get hurt.
"Is that really alright?" Sol asked with a smile.
"Of course it is!" Sunday bowed deeply. "This is my duty."
Sol let out a seemingly disappointed sigh. "Alright, then."
"..."
Sunday felt a surge of relief.
Thankfully, he'd stepped in this time to protect his sister.
Good thing he arrived quickly—otherwise those two would've already kissed.
Sol spoke with a faint smile. "See, Robin? I told you Sunday would help."
Sunday nodded slightly. Of course he would help his sister.
Sol took Robin's hand, stood up, and headed toward the door. "Come on. Sunday will handle things here—let's go out and have some fun."
What?!
Sunday completely lost his composure.
At this point, shouldn't Robin be staying behind to work with him while he taught her the Thirty-Six Techniques of Taming Men?
Why was Robin leaving with Sol instead? Where did things go wrong?
No—my sister!
Robin turned back and gave Sunday a gentle smile. "Thank you, Brother. Make sure you organize those documents carefully. I'll come back later to learn from your experience."
"Y-Yes… I will."
Sunday instantly lost all strength and resolve, replying dully.
Outwardly, he showed nothing, but inside, he was wailing.
Watching Robin and Sol leave hand in hand, leaning close together, his heart ached for her.
How could he not see it now? Everything earlier had been an act—performed by Sol and Robin together.
Robin, you've been tricked.
He was filled with anguish. Once they went out together, things would inevitably progress further. Robin would be completely taken advantage of by Sol.
It wasn't his sister's fault for being too young—it was the enemy who was far too cunning.
"Sigh…"
Sunday sighed and sat down at the desk, troubled.
No matter what, since he'd agreed to handle the work, he had to do it perfectly.
Robin had said she'd come back to learn—he had to set a good example.
And this was also a good opportunity to see how Penacony had developed, and how it differed from before the Charmony Festival.
["Planet Gomona Announces the Severing of Ties with Penacony: Order Is Dead, and Should Not Rise Again!"]
This is bad—negative press.
Sunday felt awkward. This was the aftermath of his actions.
Planet Gomona was a staunch supporter of Harmony and could not tolerate any discord within it.
Order within Harmony was acceptable.
Order standing alongside Harmony was heresy—it must be destroyed.
["Planet Ruka Applies for a Ten-Thousand-Person Tour Group: Hope Is Born, and We Have Come to Pay Our Respects!"]
["Planet Baila Applies for a One-Hundred-Thousand-Person Sightseeing Group: Bathed in the Light of Hope, Experiencing Our God's Grace!"]
Sunday's mouth twitched as he skimmed the documents. There were dozens more just like them.
Alright… so this is basically Sol's fan meet-and-greet, huh.
Even so, he couldn't help but feel grateful for Sol's achievements.
Without the banner of the Birthplace of Hope, Penacony's reputation would've been completely destroyed by his own actions.
At that moment, Sunday noticed something utterly out of place.
It was Aventurine's photo collection that Sol had left for Robin—forgotten after becoming too absorbed in teaching singing techniques.
Sunday's eyes widened the moment he saw it.
A black-veiled beauty with pale-gold hair?
Robin would never look at something like this, which meant this belonged to Sol.
He needed to study it carefully—to use as reference for Robin.
Tch. That expression—resentment mixed with anger, yet carrying an undeniable, alluring charm.
It really caught the eye. No wonder Sol liked it.
Sunday examined every single page, one by one, with a critical gaze.
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