I wasn't drawn in by a scene like this.
I was undoubtedly clear-headed.
I had my own rhythm...
He quietly admired the performance on the stage ahead, watching his sister beneath the spotlight, her wings swaying gently with the melody as she sang her heart out, her face full of smiles.
This had once been the smile he most wished to protect.
Yet just as he happily enjoyed the music, a thoroughly discordant voice suddenly came from the surrounding audience seats:
"—The lead singer is trying way too hard."
The moment he heard those words, veins immediately bulged on Sunday's forehead.
That was no compliment. It was not an objective assessment that the lead singer was working hard enough, but a demeaning insult. What it truly meant was that the singer was overexerting herself, trying so hard that she had lost all sense of beauty, making people uncomfortable as though she might sing herself to death the very next second.
Put more plainly, it meant—are you trying to sing yourself to death?!
In an instant, icy fury flooded through every limb and bone in Sunday's body like a tidal wave.
At the same time, the power of Divine Day surged forth within him, ready to immediately find the bastard who dared make such cutting remarks about Robin, beat him into a concrete pillar, and sink him in Tokyo Bay on Edo Star.
Divine Day was an egg formed from the Harmonic Choir as its foundation, woven together from the powers of Harmony and Order.
Its birth signified that the dead Aeon of [Order] was about to revive.
Although Sunday, who had previously transformed into the "Philosopher's Fetus," had been blown apart by a single punch from Qianyi, that did not mean he had lost the power of Divine Day.
Because