Genshin Impact, I'm Slime

Famas did not press further, his eyes merely glancing at the thin paper Pantalone had handed him.

The coordinates of a certain place deep in the sandy desert are clearly marked on it.

He calmly put away the map without saying a word, then got up to leave.

Just as Famas turned to leave, he paused slightly, and a voice rang out, carrying no threat, yet stating an undeniable fact as cold as a rock:

"Pantarone, the path you've chosen is one where every step could lead to a misstep and a fall into the end."

"Not every demon god is as good-tempered as Zhongli and me."

Instead of fear, Pantalone's face showed a strange, almost joyful, composure.

He nodded slightly with elegance, his tone gentle, yet every word carried a sharp edge.

“Thank you for your advice, Your Excellency Famas.” The banker’s tone shifted slightly, a subtle, enigmatic smile playing on his lips. “However, how fundamentally different is the path you walk on from the one I walk on?”

Famas did not respond. The intense aura of the ancient deity, like the last embers of a bonfire after it had burned out, silently extinguished outside the box, and the gradually rising temperature of the room finally returned to normal.

In the vast space, only Pantalone remained.

He rubbed the cold ring on his hand again, feeling the intricate engravings and the hard, cold touch on his fingertips.

The rising incense smoke swirled and curled, outlining Pantalone's seated figure as if he were a frozen statue of a thinker.

His gaze remained fixed on the direction FAMAS had left, as if piercing through the doorway and betting on an invisible, enormous chessboard, calculating the unseen chips and lurking risks.

Silence descended heavily, like a velvet curtain enveloping the departing shadows.

"Knock, knock knock."

A very light, rhythmic knock precisely pierced the silence.

"master."

The old butler Russell's signature voice came from outside the door—deep, respectful, and with a well-trained sense of propriety.

"Enter."

The deep calculation in Pantalone's eyes vanished instantly, replaced by the sharpness and competence unique to an executive.

The gaze that had been gazing into the distance was brought back to reality, and the body adjusted to a more formal sitting posture.

The door opened silently, and Russell's meticulously styled silver hair shimmered slightly in the soft light. He bowed and presented a neatly bound document:

"Sir, the preliminary sales summary of the New Glazed Pavilion invested by the Northern Bank has been completed, along with the subscription progress of the Lantern Festival tickets and the details of related fund flows, all of which are included."

"There are also several urgent documents from the Northern Headquarters, sealed and marked for your immediate attention."

Pantalone's gaze finally swept across the window frame.

Outside the window, Liyue Harbor was already ablaze with lights, thousands of lights outlining a magnificent silhouette. Merchant ships crisscrossed the sea, twinkling like stars, weaving together a scene of bustling prosperity. But the dazzling light reflected in the pupils behind Pantarone's lenses only revealed a deep pool of coldness and scheming.

"understood."

Pantalone stood up, his slender fingers casually brushing against his clothes.

The surface was perfectly smooth without a single wrinkle, yet the banker's movements were as elegant as if brushing away invisible dust, his voice calm and even.
"Let's go back to the bank for a detailed discussion."

Russell opened the door for Pantalone, then returned and took away the Sky Lamp, whose light had dimmed slightly after being tested by FAMAS.

This banquet, rife with undercurrents, ultimately ended abruptly, like a firework that failed to ignite.

We will leave aside the question of where Famas went for now, but the information implied in Pantalone's words has sprouted in the traveler's heart like a seed.

In the following days, the traveler seemed to be driven by an invisible whip, transforming into the Adventurers' Guild's most diligent commission-collecting machine. The reason was simple: the price of Sky Lantern Tickets soared like a runaway horse, rising daily. The meager Mora rewards offered by the Adventurers' Guild were simply a drop in the ocean compared to the astonishing price tags at the Flying Cloud Merchant Guild's designated exchange.

"Travelers! Do we really need to...go this far?"

In the morning sunlight, Paimon's little face scrunched up in a bitter expression. The resentment she had been harboring for these days, getting up before dawn to take on commissions with the traveler, finally erupted.

Like a kite with a broken string, the little mascot plummeted straight down beside a steaming breakfast stall on the side of Chihuyan Road, sulking and refusing to leave.

"Traveler! You have absolutely, absolutely been outsmarted by that cunning banker, Pantalone!"

Paimon stomped his foot in mid-air and complained, "He just wants you to throw all the Mora into that Night Lantern Ticket so that our lovely Lord Paimon will starve!"

"I quit! Unless... unless I get a bowl of hot meatball udon right now!"

The traveler sighed helplessly as he watched Paimon's "I'll fight to the death if I don't get food" attitude.

The bustling crowds and the aroma of food filled the air in the early morning. The traveler glanced at the Mora in his pocket and resignedly walked over to the stall owner, ordering Paimon a bowl of udon noodles.

The stall owner was a kind middle-aged man. Although Paimon was sulking with his cheeks puffed out, his big, round eyes were fixed on the bubbling, oily udon noodles and fragrant meatballs in the pot, as if drawn by a magnet.

Paimon's little face clearly showed he was starving, and the uncle was amused by this straightforward desire, his lips involuntarily curving upwards.

He moved swiftly, scooping up several plump, round meatballs, glistening with a dark brown color, with a long-handled ladle, and they landed steadily in Paimon's steaming bowl of soup noodles, a number noticeably more than the others.

"Hey boss, you gave me too much..."

Just as Paimon was about to point to the bowl and exclaim with delight, the traveler swiftly covered her mouth, giving the stall owner an understanding and grateful smile.

"Thank you for your hospitality, boss."

The stall owner was taken aback by Paimon's bluntness, but breathed a sigh of relief when the traveler defused the situation in time. He returned an approving look, raised the still oily mesh ladle in his hand, and everything was understood without saying a word.

Pointing out such good intentions would only make things difficult for both parties, since there are other customers at the stall.

The traveler paid and led Paimon, who was still muttering to himself, to a low table in a corner to sit down.

Biting into the meatball releases a burst of rich, savory juices in your mouth, while the noodles are soaked in a thick layer of creamy, white broth, making it a hearty and flavorful meal that is clearly a favorite among dockworkers.

The aroma of wheat, wrapped around soft and sweet noodles, slid into my stomach, bringing warmth and soothing the fatigue of waking up early in the morning.

While Paimon was engrossed in his meal, with oil splattering almost onto his face, the Traveler pulled out his worn-out Adventurer's Handbook, his fingertips tracing the densely packed task sheets as he mentally calculated.

After completing today's four commissions, plus my previous savings, and deducting the cost of Paimon's unexpected extra meal, I just have enough for one night lantern ticket.

"Once these four commissions are settled, we'll have enough money, Paimon."

The traveler closed the booklet, his tone resolute.

"Mmm... Mmm!"

Paimon's mouth was stuffed full of noodles, his cheeks bulging like a hamster's, and he could only make muffled responses.

The bowl was barely empty, and Paimon hadn't even wiped the grease from the corner of his mouth when the traveler pulled him up.

"Come on!"

The two hurriedly merged into the crowd and left the port.

They must deliver their commissions, collect their payments, and rush back to Liyue Harbor before the midday bells ring at the docks, arriving at Jade Peak before the stock exchange closes.

After all, the price of the lantern tickets won't wait for anyone; as time goes by, it will only relentlessly climb higher. (End of Chapter)