Of course, as Dream continued its climb back to the top, Julius had not remained idle either. Operations had begun months prior, and his own company, SIBYL, had risen through the stock market with unprecedented speed.

In just two months of being publicly listed, it had already broken through barriers that most companies needed years to reach.

Unlike in the past, where SIBYL had been used as an overseer and a tool for surveillance, this time the company's direction was different.

The unique cognitive functions that defined SIBYL's systems were now being applied to fields that desperately needed them.

Mental health institutes had adopted SIBYL's therapeutic programs. Asylum facilities benefited from the AI's ability to stabilize patients who could not be reached by traditional methods.

SIBYL, which had once been a weapon, had become a lifeline.

The company was expanding at a rate faster than projected. Investors from across Europe were trying to secure contracts. Hospitals filed requests for exclusive licenses. Government agencies began negotiations for national use.

If Dream thrived in the defense sector, SIBYL thrived in the medical sector. The two companies rose along parallel paths.

"Mister Schneider, you have a meeting with the board in twenty minutes."

Isolde's voice came through the doorway as she stepped into the office with her tablet pressed against her chest.

"All right," he said. "You'll come with me."

"Yes. I'll prepare the files accordingly."

"No," Julius replied as he put on his coat. "Let your secretary handle that. Honestly, Doctor, this company is practically yours as much as it is mine. Why do you keep insisting on staying hands-on with every little task? I've been supporting you so you'd have less work on your plate, yet you keep adding more."

Isolde lowered her gaze for a moment.

"Mister Schneider, SIBYL is my responsibility," she said. "Delegation is important, but oversight is necessary. I can't allow myself to become complacent."

"You wouldn't," he said. "You're incapable of complacency. That's the problem."

She blinked. "Problem?"

Julius stepped closer and frowned. Over the past few months, he had noticed something… troubling. Isolde had developed eccentric habits, as if she would wither away the moment she stopped working.

He remembered the first signs all too well.

——Mister Schneider, should I put the plants here?

'That's the gardener's job… Wait. When did this facility even get a garden?'

——Mister Schneider, I think we're in need of new plates.

'Why are you doing the dishes? Why are there dishes in the research wing…?'

——Mister Schneider, should I reorganize the entire archives by color? Alphabetical ordering is inefficient for—

'Why is the intern crying in the corner?'

——Mister Schneider, I noticed the cafeteria chairs are uneven. I've taken the liberty of sanding each leg so they stop wobbling.

'You sanded sixty chairs? During your lunch break?'

——Mister Schneider, the maintenance staff was slow, so I repaired the elevator hydraulics myself.

'...What?'

And it only escalated from there.

——Mister Schneider, should I repaint the parking lot lines? They're two centimeters off regulation standard.

——Mister Schneider, I've done everyone's paperwork for the week. Including yours. And the Ministry's. And possibly Mister Dieterich's.

——Mister Schneider, I sanitized every door handle in the building twice. I think the third round would be optimal—

At one point, Julius had walked into the break room only to find her ironing lab coats.

Coats no one had asked to be ironed.

Now, she stared at him with calm seriousness, unaware of how insane her habits had become.

"…Doctor," he said. "At this rate, you'll start cleaning the street in front of the building."

"If it's necessary…"

Julius dragged a hand down his face. "...You're going to give yourself a stroke before the year ends."

"No way. If anything, I feel like I aged ten years back, Mister Schneider."

And the frightening part was that she wasn't lying. Anyone else would have looked fifty years older by now if they did what she was doing.

Yet somehow, Isolde seemed to grow brighter as if nonstop labor actually nourished her.

Julius shook his head and caught her wrist before she could flee deeper into her workload. "You know what, Doctor? Reschedule the meeting with the board."

She blinked at him. "Pardon?"

"Let's take a break, okay? A break."

"Ah, I can't, I have a backlog of patient reports, two cross-institute calls, a procurement review—"

"And all of those can be handled by literally anyone else."

Isolde stared like he'd just spoken in hieroglyphs. "But productivity—"

"Doctor," Julius said slowly, very slowly, "you reorganized the entire neurology wing because the feng shui 'felt emotionally claustrophobic.'"

"…It was."

"And yesterday you alphabetized the fire extinguishers."

"They were out of order."

"And this morning—" Julius threw his hands up "—you rewired the vending machine because the snacks, and I quote, 'lacked structural balance.'"

Her cheeks reddened. "…It was truly upsetting to look at."

"Doctor." He pressed his fingers to his temples. "You are one step away from installing SIBYL into the coffee maker."

"…That would increase efficiency."

"That is the problem."

She looked genuinely offended. "Mister Schneider, I am functioning perfectly fine."

"No, we're going on a trip, alright? A trip."

"Pardon? Just the two of us?"

"You can bring Anneliese if you want."

"Anne would love that." She clasped her hands together.

However, she didn't say she would go. And at this point, Julius knew this woman too well.

"No, you're coming with us."

"Eh…"

"That's not a real answer."

"It's… a sound of hesitation."

"Yes, I noticed. Doctor, you haven't left the building in four days."

"That's not true. I stepped outside yesterday to take a call."

"On the roof."

"It has good reception."

"It was raining."

"It felt refreshing."

"You slipped."

"That was gravity's fault."

Julius pinched the bridge of his nose. "Doctor… last week you fainted because you tried fixing the MRI scanner while giving a therapy session while reviewing employee files."

"To be fair, Mister Schneider, the patient said it helped them feel seen."

"Doctor, they cried because you downloaded their suppressed childhood trauma by accident."

"That was a breakthrough."

"That was a HIPAA violation."

Isolde cleared her throat. "Regardless… I still don't see why I have to go. Anne will be happy. That is enough."

"No," Julius said, "because if I leave you here alone, you'll find a way to rewrite the entire infrastructure of the building. Again."

It didn't happen once. Not even twice. Not even thrice.

"It needed improvement."

"We are going. On a trip. Because you need rest."

"I do rest," she argued proudly. "I sleep five hours a night."

"Doctor… last week, you told me sleep is a 'social construct.'"

"It is."

"It is not!"

* * *

After finally managing to convince Isolde, which he actually didn't, because he ended up dragging her out of the building like a toddler refusing to go to school, Julius, Isolde, and Anneliese boarded the private plane.

"Is it really right for us to be here, Mister Schneider? This is all too… luxurious," Isolde murmured, touching the leather seats like they were sacred artifacts.

"By now, everyone in Dream knows we're partners, Doctor. It's good for publicity."

"...Is that so?"

When they stepped further inside, Gabriel was already seated, adjusting a pair of sunglasses with the self-importance of someone posing for a summer magazine shoot.

Julius stared. "You look ridiculous."

"Sybau."

"Huh? Sai… bao?"

Gabriel clicked his tongue. "Huh? Are you fr? Get with the times, old man."

"...."

Julius ignored whatever nonsense Gabriel was rambling about. First and foremost, Gabriel was literally a year older than him. And secondly, who the hell spoke like that?

Allowing her daughter to sit by the window, Isolde turned toward Julius, who sat a row across on his own seat. The engines resounded as the plane prepared for takeoff.

"Mister Schneider," Isolde said, adjusting Anneliese's seatbelt one last time, "where are we going anyway?"

"Japan, Doctor. The land of the rising sun."

"Wow, arigatou!" Anneliese perked up immediately, her eyes shining.

"That's right." Julius nodded. "Are you good at Japanese, Anneliese?"

From the far side of the cabin, Gabriel had already launched into some dramatic nonsense. "Aka… Ao… domain expansion… limitless reversal—"

Everyone ignored him.

"Uh-huh!" Anneliese punched the air with enthusiasm. "Anne's power is over 9000!"

Julius stared at her for a moment, then chuckled.

"Is that so?" he said. "Then I guess Japan will be safe with you around."

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