"…So then, how may I assist you today?" Robin spread his hands slowly, his tone smooth and unhurried, before intertwining his fingers again and resting them gently over his abdomen. A small, knowing smile lingered on his face, one that carried both amusement and fatigue. "I've been told you've been searching for me for… what, a few decades now?"

"To speak frankly, Professor Robin—without unnecessary courtesies or evasions," came a frail voice from the far left side of the gathering. It belonged to an elderly man, his back slightly hunched, eyes cloudy yet sharp, voice trembling as though each word cost him effort. "We wish to make a transaction concerning the techniques you bestowed upon our children."

"Oh?" Robin arched an eyebrow slightly, his expression calm but his eyes glinting with a faint, unreadable curiosity. "And what about them?"

"Professor Robin," said another man, older but more composed—his face narrow and elongated, adorned by a short beard and a pair of small, curved horns upon his forehead—"thanks to your guidance, our sons and daughters have experienced transformations beyond all precedent. Their talents, their power—everything has advanced at a pace that defies reason. Each of them has now become the undisputed heir of their family line, and among the most formidable of their generation within the entire sector. Yet whenever we inquire about the origin of their sudden growth, they mention only your name—and only after intense pressure—and refuse to reveal a single further detail."

"Please, Professor," one of the students seated beside the horned elder spoke quickly, his voice nervous yet earnest. "None of us ever meant to disturb or offend you. We merely wanted our families to understand, but they insisted on meeting you themselves."

"Good children~" Robin's tone softened, and he nodded approvingly a few times, clearly entertained. "They've reached such strength because they had solid foundations and relentless willpower. If I'd given the same methods to some random wanderer in the streets, they wouldn't have achieved even a fraction of what your children did. That's their own merit."

"So you admit, then, that you really gave them something that empowered them?!" a woman suddenly burst out. She was middle-aged, elegant yet fierce, with a crown of iridescent feathers growing from the center of her head. Rising abruptly, she pointed at Robin, her feathers trembling slightly as if reflecting her anger—or perhaps her disbelief.

Robin merely chuckled, low and calm, resting his chin on his hand. "And when," he asked, amusement glinting in his eyes, "did I ever say I didn't?"

He leaned back further into his chair, crossing one leg over the other in complete ease. "Why," he said proudly, "would I ever credit someone else for my own work?" His grin widened, smug and fearless, his tone dripping with self-satisfaction. But just for a heartbeat, a flicker of irritation shadowed his face as a thought crossed his mind.

Damn it… I really need to get rid of this ridiculous ~Lord Human~ title soon. Until I do, I can't even boast freely about my own genius.

The woman froze, speechless. Slowly, she sat down again, her confidence fading as silence spread across the hall. No one seemed to know what to say next. The rest of the nobles exchanged confused, even uneasy glances. This was not the reaction they had anticipated. They had expected anger—perhaps denial, a claim that the techniques were property of the Academy, or that he'd merely overseen their training. Something safe, polite, diplomatic. But instead… this man simply owned it—without hesitation, without fear, without shame.

"Excellent!" The massive man sitting beside Vanir slammed a thick palm on his thigh, the sound echoing through the chamber like a drumbeat. "Enough beating around the bush, then! Let's not waste anyone's time. We're here for business." He straightened his back, his enormous frame towering even while seated. "We wish to purchase those techniques—so they can be distributed throughout our entire empire." Then, thumping his chest with a fist, he declared proudly, "We, of the The Eternal Turtle Empire, are offering thirty million Pearls."

"Oh?" Robin tilted his head lazily, eyeing the man with mild amusement. "Don't you already have them? And yet you still came all this way to buy them?" He chuckled softly. "That almost makes me feel flattered."

"What do you mean, Professor Robin?" asked another voice—a man with a sharp jawline, skin of pale green, and calculating eyes that gleamed under the hall's faint light. "Didn't you make the students swear an oath not to reveal the techniques?"

"No," Robin said simply, his smile unwavering. "I never asked them to swear anything."

The silence that followed was deafening.

Every single person in the hall froze, brows furrowing in disbelief. The atmosphere thickened; the sound of breathing, shuffling, and even the faint hum of the lighting became unbearably loud in the stillness.

Shaddad, Jabba, and Morgana all exchanged a collective look of horror. For a split second, all three had the same impulse—to rush forward and shut him up. Didn't their master understand what kind of storm he had just unleashed with that single, careless line?!

Meanwhile, the gathered nobles turned toward their sons and daughters with dawning suspicion. Confusion and anger started to bubble to the surface. Almost at once, voices rose in overlapping chaos—questions sharp and urgent, demanding explanations:

"What's the meaning of this? Didn't you tell me you couldn't say anything?!"

"Were you lying to your own family?!"

"Why hide it all this time, if there was no oath?!"

The students shrank under the weight of their parents' stares, and amid that growing tension, Robin merely leaned back further in his chair, the same faint, devilish smile curling at his lips—utterly unbothered by the storm he had just created.

Crick!

Morgana pressed down on Robin's shoulder until it gave a sharp pop, as if she intended to rip the bone right out of its socket... and just as she expected, everything unfolded perfectly.

They had all come here for one reason — to pressure Robin into handing over those legendary techniques, the very ones that had allowed seven of his students to utterly defeat six thousand of the academy's elite.

But now, after Robin's line, even with all the gold and influence in the room, They didn't even need to purchase anything!

Still, the students' replies had all been strikingly similar — defiant yet respectful:

"The Professor told us those techniques are for us alone. I wouldn't dare hand them over without his permission!"

"Hmm," Robin nodded several times, a faint but growing smile curving on his lips.

"You…!!" One of the students' fathers clenched his fists, barely restraining himself from striking the young man. He took a long breath, forcing his anger down, and turned toward the stage. "It doesn't matter. We're here now." His gaze locked onto Robin's. "So, thank you for creating and gifting them to our children. But we still wish to purchase the full set from you — at the price offered by brother, Grangakh."

"Your brother Grangakh?" Robin raised his hand lazily and pointed toward the bulky figure beside Fanir. "You mean that one over there? The thirty million Pearls?"

"....." The massive figure scowled, clearly irritated. The way Robin spoke — so casually, so utterly lacking in deference — made several nobles shift uncomfortably.

But instead of responding, Grangakh turned his glare toward Vanir, his stare so harsh it made the young man shudder involuntarily. "Eeeh…"

"The offer of Brother Grangakh, heir of the Eternal Turtle Empire, is not bad at all," one of the attendees explained quickly, trying to ease the tension. "If you accept thirty million from each of us, that would make a total of two hundred and ten million Pearls — a sum comparable to the treasury of a multi-planetary Empire!" He smiled broadly. "What do you say, Professor?"

"Heh~" Robin let out a short, amused laugh. "Thirty million Pearls — the same price as your children's education here at the academy. In fact, that number might even double if they were to take private lessons from renowned professors, wouldn't it?" His eyes swept across the hall. "And yet, you want to obtain a technique that can forever change the fate of your seven bloodlines — one that can either strengthen your lineage beyond imagination or make you no longer need it at all — for the price of a single student's education? Tsk tsk~ That's far too stingy."

"Professor Robin," a stunning woman with a crown of radiant feathers spoke in a soft, charming voice, her smile as poised as a monarch's. "Two hundred and ten million Pearls is not a small figure, even for a professor of the Stellar Academy. Out of all instructors here, perhaps only Professor Barok has managed to reach such wealth after years of selling soul borrowings."

"Why mention that number again?" Robin raised a single brow, his tone faintly teasing. "You'll only be paying thirty million yourself — a trivial amount for a planetary empire like yours." He shook his head with a sigh. "It's not about what I gain in the end. What matters is what you all are willing to offer."

"What difference does it make who pays what? All that matters is the total you'll receive!" barked one of the men — a broad-shouldered figure with short, curved horns jutting from his forehead.

Robin tilted his head slightly, his amusement fading into a sharp, colder seriousness. "What matters," he said slowly, each word deliberate, "is respect — and acknowledgment." His voice dropped to a calm but powerful tone. "If a small kingdom had offered that sum, I'd have accepted without question. But those who send their children to a Stellar Academy are not poor. Raise your offers — make me feel your sincerity, your respect. Otherwise…" A faint smirk crossed his lips. "I simply won't sell~."

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