You're Quite the Little Genius

"BOSS, these are the numbers of immigrants who have come to settle in Utopia from elsewhere recently, along with the list of weapons provided to the Revolutionary Army."

Nico Robin entered from outside carrying a thick stack of documents and lists, then dumped them all onto the desk.

At this moment, the solid wood desk was already covered with all kinds of papers and reports.

But Allen turned a blind eye to them, still sipping a refreshing drink with his legs propped on the desk, his body turned sideways as he admired the bright moonlight outside the window.

More than ten seconds passed before he finally replied with a smile, "Didn't I say this already? You and Kalifa can handle these things. There's no need to bring them to me. I'm not interested in power, and I certainly don't want to waste my precious time on endless government affairs."

"But you are Utopia's supreme sovereign! The founder and protector of this dreamlike nation! Whether you acknowledge it or not, that is an undeniable fact." Robin stressed meaningfully.

"A sovereign? If I really became one, I'd definitely be either a tyrant or a fool of a ruler." Allen rested his chin on his hand and mocked himself.

After all, knowing oneself was a rare virtue.

He knew perfectly well that he lacked the basic qualities of a qualified ruler, not to mention the patience needed to deal with the endless stream of conflicts.

Perhaps the difference would not be apparent in the short term, but as time passed, there would ultimately be only two outcomes.

One was becoming indifferent to everything before his eyes, allowing his subordinates to fight for power while regarding the entire country as a burden.

The other was using slaughter and violence to solve every problem.

After