Genshin Impact, I'm Slime

Wendy's slumber, Zhongli's feigned death, Famas's rebellion... countless fragments surged and collided in Ying's mind.

Gods possess near-eternal time and power, but are their will and choices too heavy and too unpredictable for mortals who are as fleeting as mayflies in the long river of time and as insignificant as dust in the face of power?

"We should not blame the weak, because the weak have never had the power to choose."

The traveler recalled Heureia's words.

Is that heaviness the shackles and limitations Pantalone spoke of? Is that unpredictability the reason he asserted that one should not place one's hopes on it?
"Why should humanity entrust its very existence and survival to capricious and easily departing deities?"

Ying's fingertips were slightly cold. She pursed her lips tightly, and deep in her amber eyes, a fierce struggle and an indescribable wavering were silently surging.

The gods may have their own difficulties, or they may have good intentions, but when their unparalleled power and will can so easily stir up or quell a storm in a country, or even determine the direction of a civilization's survival, the enormous gap and risks involved, which are beyond the control and foresight of mortals, are also a kind of injustice.

Pantalone's theory is cold, even toxic.

But it was like a sharp thorn, precisely piercing the seed of doubt that had been planted in Ying's subconscious during her long journey after witnessing the actions of the gods, a seed that she had never delved into.

At this moment, the seed is being coldly pried open by the rich, who are using Mora as a wedge and the return of power as a banner, in an extreme and impactful way, exposing it to the glaring light.

The traveler remained silent, unable to refute the belief stemming from her own experience that the gods acted arbitrarily.

The girl's silence, under Pantalone's all-knowing gaze, was itself a silent acquiescence.

The rich man's meaningful smile deepened slightly, like a hunter seeing his prey finally step into the carefully laid trap.

However, he did not become complacent. Instead, he toned down his inflammatory tone, and his voice returned to its usual calm and elegance, even carrying a subtle, almost coaxing gentleness:
“I said there’s no need to answer now. I understand your hesitation and doubt.”

“I’ve walked this road alone for a long time, while you’ve only just begun.”

The wealthy man abruptly changed the subject, like a magician conjuring vibrant flowers from behind a heavy curtain, his tone becoming light and alluring:
"Why not try starting with the simplest thing? For example... investing in night light coupons."

Pantalone threw out the real bait, lowering his voice with an intimate, secret-sharing tone, wrapping his elaborate financial trap in a sweet candy:
"Trust me, miss, I will personally remind you at the close of trading that there is no risk involved. You can cash out at the highest point and leave the market, just like picking the most ripe fruit from the branch during an adventure."

The rich man's deep black eyes were fixed on Ying, filled with certainty and unquestionable confidence.

The traveler felt a chill rise from the soles of her feet, piercing through the defenses of her mind that had been disturbed by the rich man's seductive theories. She stood up abruptly, her movements slightly stiff, as if trying to break free from the invisible cage of words.

The girl avoided Pantalone's gaze, her voice slightly hoarse, and spoke almost mechanically:

"……I will think about it."

After the traveler finished speaking, he didn't even glance at Pantalone again, and turned to walk towards the door. Although Paimon was full of confusion and unease, he quickly floated up and followed after seeing the traveler's actions, turning back to glare warily at the rich man.

The traveler's original intention was to test Pantalone's true intentions, but the test failed, and his own solid belief barrier was instead breached by the other party's cold and highly inflammatory theories, creating a dangerous crack.

This cognitive confusion made Ying feel agitated, and she just wanted to leave this suffocating space as soon as possible.

Pantalone did not try to persuade him to stay, but simply set down his teacup gracefully and stood up. His demeanor was composed, like that of a truly considerate host, as he decided to personally see his guest out.

The waiters outside the door had already been arranged to the side by Pantalone. The three of them walked in silence, with only their light footsteps and Paimon's tense, barely audible breathing echoing in the corridor.

The silence was heavier than any words, as if it contained all the intense intellectual clashes and lingering tensions that had just taken place in the room.

Until they walked through the exquisite courtyard and stood in front of the brightly lit entrance of the New Glazed Pavilion.

The bustling sounds of the market in Chihuyan rushed into my ears like a tidal wave. The lights of thousands of homes and the aroma of food wafted over me. This vibrant atmosphere of everyday life gave the traveler's chaotic mind a slight jolt, as if he had been forcibly pulled back to reality from a decadent dream.

The traveler blinked, took a deep breath of the air filled with the scent of the marketplace, composed himself, and finally turned his head to look at Pantalone standing quietly beside him with a complicated expression.

The banker's profile was sharply defined under the brilliant lights of the glass pavilion, and the faint smile that held all control still lingered on his lips.

“…I’ll go check out where they sell lantern tickets.” The traveler’s voice regained its calmness, but carried a thoughtful seriousness. “Thank you for your hospitality, Mr. Pantalone.”

The rich man's smile deepened, and he bowed slightly, his posture impeccable, like a spring breeze brushing across ice.

"A wise decision. Thank you for your support, Miss."

The traveler said no more, and turned with Paimon to join the bustling crowd at Tiger Rock. Pantalone stood still, watching the dazzling golden hair disappear into the dim light, his unfathomable eyes gleaming with a mixture of calculation and expectation.

A moment later, he turned around and walked briskly back to the luxurious private room where a special confrontation had just ended.

The banker pushed open the heavy wooden door, and the composure and confidence on his face froze for a moment.

Because he discovered that another person was sitting in the chair that symbolized the head of the table.

Her red and white hair, like burning flames, danced with untamed light under the soft lamplight of the room.

The boy leaned back lazily in his chair, a few dark red marks still visible on his neck. The rich, sweet scent of apples mingled with the crisp aroma of mint, spreading gently through the air, as if an invisible wind had passionately kissed every inch of this young deity's skin.

It was Famas who returned after hanging out with Wendis.

Fama lazily rubbed his chin with one hand, while with the other he picked up the "Returning Shadow" lamp, which had been left on the table and was radiating a dreamy and lonely glow.

The boy's fingers toyed with the delicate frame of the lantern, causing the colorful projections to sway erratically on the walls of the private room. His crimson eyes pierced through the shimmering illusions, as if examining an interesting trophy, or perhaps toying with a fragile bubble that he himself was about to burst.

As Pantalone stepped fully into the private room, Famas slowly raised his eyes. His crimson pupils held no surprise, only a burning mockery, precisely meeting Pantalone's instantly somber gaze.

The young demon's lips curled into an almost mischievous smile, and his clear voice rang out in the space filled with the scent of apples and mint, carrying undisguised teasing and a hint of dangerous playfulness:

"Oh, trying to fool people again, Fugui'er?" (End of Chapter)