"Shenhe really has such an extraordinary aura."
Robin couldn't help but praise Shenhe during her livestream.
"No wonder people mistake her for an adeptus. If I saw her in real life, I might even think she's one too."
「I think she has an even stronger adeptus vibe than Cloud Retainer.」
Seeing this comment, Robin smiled. "Well, she is human. But as for Cloud Retainer… the more I see her, the more she… Hmm, that initial sense of majesty she gave me is completely gone now. She's fully become a comedic character—I can't help but laugh whenever I see her."
「Same, I've really grown to love Cloud Retainer lately.」
「Robin, so there won't be a long banner for Cloud Retainer?」
"I don't know about that, but I'll mention it to Kiana," Robin said with a laugh as she controlled The Supreme Bishop in-game. "But I think it's best not to get your hopes up. My job is voicing Furina and handling vocal production—I don't have much say in story or playable character planning."
「From the PV, it seems like she'll actually appear in the main game, right?」
"Yes, I did voice work for this update, but what exactly I voiced is a secret~"
As the dialogue began, Robin continued:
"Furina is the first Archon players got to know. Even before the game's release, she appeared in Reporting to Lady Furina. And now, she'll also be the first Archon to appear in the story before her nation is officially released. This just shows how special Furina, the Hydro Archon, is in Genshin Impact's storyline. Though Kiana's never said it outright, I can tell she put a lot of care into Furina's design… and no, this isn't me boasting."
It was true. Even though Kiana still hadn't finalized Furina's exact character details, subtle hints made it clear that Furina would be a deeply nuanced character.
「I don't care how much effort Kiana puts into Furina—I just wanna know where she lives.」
「Yeah, me too. I wanna send her some… warmth.」
「A woman who even stabs herself in the story—I'm getting more and more scared playing Genshin.」
「The Raiden Shogun's arc already had knives. That old fox is definitely planning something big next patch.」
「The Mei and Kiana storyline shattered my heart. I cried so many times.」
「Seriously, they even used their real names. Couldn't Kiana spare Mei some dignity?!」
「She's definitely doing this on purpose—it's revenge against players who sent her hate mail!!」
Reading these comments, Robin's lips twitched involuntarily.
Of course, she had also played Honkai Impact 3rd, that little side game.
But rather than calling it a game, Robin preferred to think of it as an animated series delivered in the form of a game.
An animated series that was both hype and tear-jerking.
Using gameplay to immerse players, then hitting them with the full force of an anime-style emotional gut punch—Kiana didn't even try to hide her true nature.
After Honkai Impact 3rd came out, no one still believed Kiana was a game director who crafted fairytale-like happy stories. Now, everyone played Genshin Impact with trepidation, never knowing when the next emotional knife would strike.
And when she does strike, she strikes hard!
From what Robin knew, nearly everyone at miHoYo—herself included—had cried at some point. Even Mei broke down sobbing during a recording session, and the staff almost staged a full-on protest against Kiana.
How does she even come up with such heart-wrenching stories? Can't we just enjoy the game in peace?
"If you wanna send Kiana hate mail, go ahead—I support you. But stop mailing it to the company. Carrying all those packages is exhausting."
As one of the victims, Robin wasn't about to defend Kiana, but she also didn't want to get caught up in the fallout. Hauling those packages was really tiring.
Of course, she wasn't about to reveal Kiana's address either. If people wanted it, they'd have to find it themselves.
Too bad for them—even hackers couldn't help, because the world's strongest hacker worked at miHoYo. Everyone's personal information was completely secure.
「Robin, some media outlets say you donate all your earnings to charity. Is that true?」
Seeing this comment, Robin blinked in surprise.
She had never answered this kind of question before, always refusing interviews about it.
Robin believed what she did was simply what any capable person should do. If she lacked the means, she obviously wouldn't be able to do it.
In other words, she just happened to be someone with the ability to help, and so she did what anyone in her position could do. That was all.
As such, it wasn't something worth boasting or publicizing.
She'd rather brag about her singing—that was something she took genuine pride in.
On the other hand, Robin's brother had also forbidden media from publicizing her charitable acts since childhood—though his reasons differed from hers.
What Robin did was something many capable people could do, yet most chose not to. Her brother knew full well that her actions would only provoke resentment in others.
Plenty of wealthy people engaged in charity, but how many would donate 99% of their wealth—or even all of it—if they only had a million to their name?
Even as a child, when Robin only had pocket money and no income of her own, she would donate every penny. She didn't need money to live well, so why not give it to those who did? That simple mindset stayed with her as she grew up.
After leaving home and joining miHoYo, Robin continued donating everything beyond her basic living expenses. This pure kindness had become a way of life for her.
Robin herself didn't think much of it.
Of course, she never forced others to do the same. She wasn't some naive little girl.
Everyone had their own way of life, and Robin wasn't foolish enough to demand others conform to her beliefs—that the strong should aid the weak as a matter of course.
Instead, she led by example, gradually influencing those around her. Step by step, she hoped to spread her ideals, gathering like-minded people until, one day, all those with the means could work together to make the world a better place.
That was Robin's conviction.
—And it was also the main reason her brother forbade media coverage of her deeds.
Robin avoided publicity simply because she saw no reason to boast—it'd only make her uncomfortable, as if she were showing off. That said, she also didn't think it was something to hide. It wasn't shameful, after all.
—But in this regard, her brother saw her as far too naive.
Sometimes, hatred stems from pure insecurity and jealousy.
It's human nature.
Those trapped in darkness will resent those who shine too brightly—those who make their own shadows seem all the darker in comparison.
The wretched don't aspire to be heroes. Instead, they seize every chance to slander and attack them. They know they can never be heroes, and so they long to drag them down, to tarnish their glory—because only then can their twisted hearts find satisfaction. Such is the ugliness of human nature.
Robin wasn't ignorant of humanity's flaws, but she chose to focus on its better side. Her brother, however, always expected the worst.
Thus, he suppressed media coverage of Robin's deeds—to protect her.
—And this was where their ideals clashed most severely.
Like Robin, her brother saw protecting the weak as a duty. But he understood humanity's darkness, the pettiness of human nature, and how the weak remained weak precisely because they were small and powerless.
To protect them, to guide them correctly, they had to be kept within reach—constantly under his influence. Control was a prerequisite for protection.
This difference in philosophy had sparked many arguments between the siblings… though it never damaged their bond.
Neither agreed with the other's methods, and both had clashed over their disagreements. Yet neither ever forced the other to submit.
No approval was needed. They would each walk their own path, letting the results prove who was right in the end.
—Wait, where did my thoughts just wander off to?
Was I… missing my brother?
Robin sighed inwardly, then refocused on the game.
Either way, it was best to ignore that earlier comment.
After all, talking about it would just feel like bragging—and that truly made her uncomfortable.