Chains

"...Jabba?!"

The name escaped Robin's lips, but hearing it aloud struck him like a bolt of lightning. His body tensed, and he instinctively took a step back.

However, he quickly swallowed hard, forcing himself to regain composure. Forcing himself to smile.

"Jabba, why are you sitting like that? How long have you been here?"

That statue —if it could even be called that— wasn't made of stone. It wore real clothes. Its skin was tan, showing every natural imperfection and texture of human flesh. Even the fine lines and pores were visible.

It looked completely real.

The only reason Robin had mistaken it for a statue was its unnatural stillness. Jabba's body was utterly motionless, and his wide-open eyes were void of any trace of life. Anyone who laid eyes on him would instinctively feel the same conclusion— this wasn't a person anymore. This was a lifeless figure.

"...." Even after several seconds, Jabba did not respond.