Aventurine looked toward the closed door:
"Why else would our Mr. Sunday arrange a private meeting? This isn't an interrogation. It's a secret negotiation."
"Just watch."
"With Robin's death as my bargaining chip, I'll win back my freedom and power."
"And in the end, I'll overturn this beautiful dream and create the grandest death of all."
Aventurine turned to Dr. Ratio again:
"If stepping through that door gives me a chance at victory, however close the odds are to zero, I have no reason to hesitate."
"Do I?"
Dr. Ratio frowned.
"What makes you think you can win, you damned gambler?"
"Heh. Three chips are enough."
Aventurine was brimming with confidence:
"All or nothing."
As they spoke, the door to the meeting room beside them slowly opened.
Sunday stood just beyond it, his back to them.
"Honestly, I can hardly imagine what state of mind you two are in."
Dressed in a white suit, Sunday did not even look at them as he said ruefully:
"Even with a door between us, I could hear you plotting..."
"It seems the puzzle I set was still too easy for you, company envoys."
"You talk too much."
"..."
Aventurine and Dr. Ratio exchanged a glance. Neither looked the least bit embarrassed.
So what if he had heard?
Aventurine strode into the meeting room and smiled faintly:
"You flatter me. And thank you for going to such lengths to welcome me."
"Mr. Sunday, though, that hardly seems like something a sincere host would do."
Sunday answered without hesitation:
"That's because this isn't an invitation. It's a summons."
"Before we talk, I need to put your character to the test."
"I imagine your learned friend there helped you quite a bit?"
"Of course." Aventurine showed no trace of alarm. He glanced at Dr. Ratio, who