Brighton Sanctum.
Robin stood near the tall window, eyes resting on the familiar silhouette before him. His tone held a trace of irritation. "I thought we agreed—no more meetings. Making a public show of it like this? You're only making things harder for yourself."
He turned slightly, arms crossed. "You've got a hundred things to handle every day. Why waste time on this?"
"Sigh!" A deep sigh came from the figure's back. "Do you really have to go?"
Robin chuckled softly. "I've grown used to the quiet life in the underworld. I've no love for tangled politics. Leave the national burdens to someone like you.
"My heart still longs for a life of carefree and simple stuff," he added, half-grinning.
The figure gave a resigned smile. "Wouldn't it be better to stay? We've got our own underworld right here, boundless as any. Why leave the land that belongs to you?"
Robin gave a dry laugh. "If I stayed, half the city wouldn't sleep at night. My presence disrupts too many games and shatters too many illusions."
The man exhaled long and slow. "I know what happened with Dragon Manor, and Shirley left you hollow inside. But so much of it was beyond our control. You understand that."
After a brief pause, he continued, "I heard about Verda. If you want, I'll handle her. By the book. Everything she's done over the years is more than enough to justify a public execution. There are a thousand legal reasons to make sure she never comes back from it. A word from you and I will make it done by today."
Robin laughed. "You can't think like that. This place needs your patience—and your absolute rationality.
"Besides," he added, his voice dropping, "I prefer underground solutions. Creatures like her—who never truly evolved into people—are best wiped out entirely. What's more, her father's network stretches far and wide, across borders. If you handle it, it'll turn into a political mess."
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