Genshin Impact, I'm Slime

FAMAS lightly leaped down from the stack of crates, casually brushed the dust off his palms, and sent a wisp of dust flying in the afternoon sun.

"It's rare that you took the initiative to contact me."

Famas smiled his usual smile and greeted him directly.

"What kind of trouble have you run into?"

This overly familiar and straightforward manner caused the traveler to pause slightly, momentarily speechless.

Paimon, however, couldn't wait any longer. Like a small cannonball, she pounced on the boy, her face very close, her voice quick and crisp: "Famas! Where have you been hiding these past few days? You didn't even call us when there was something fun going on!"

Paimon paused, his gaze sweeping anxiously over Famas's back.

"Where's Wendy? Wasn't he with you? Where is he?"

A barrage of questions made Famas instinctively shrink back. He composed himself and slowly spread his hands: "Of course I went to take care of some personal business."

When Wendy was mentioned, FAMAS curled his lip, his tone carrying a clear hint of disdain.

"As for Wendy... he went back to Mondstadt, saying that the people of Mondstadt still need the poetry of the wind to soothe their souls."

Famas let out a soft hum. Although he was displeased with Venti's excuse, he couldn't find any reason to keep the freedom-loving Anemo Archon in Liyue Harbor for long. After the tender moment, he could only let go.

The boy waved his hand casually, as if trying to dispel the lingering unease that coiled around his heart like spiderwebs. He turned his gaze to the traveler, attempting to steer the conversation towards the more relaxed aspects of daily life:
"And you? How's your adventure going? Have you managed to raise enough money for the voyage to Inazuma?"

Upon hearing this, Paimon immediately flew to Famas's side, hands on his hips, his little face puffed up with anger:
"Hmph! Expect it to go smoothly! The traveler was completely swindled by that scoundrel Pantalone!"

The little mascot started gesturing wildly as it complained, "That guy used sweet talk to trick travelers into spending all the money they had painstakingly saved for boat tickets on lantern vouchers, and now they don't even know if they've made a profit or a loss... Ugh, I'm so angry!"

Paimon circled around Famas, his voice like a string of constantly bouncing bubbles, filling the gap of their long-awaited reunion.

Just as Paimon was chattering away, and the atmosphere seemed to have returned to its former bustling peak, the traveler's cold voice, like a blade tempered with ice, unexpectedly cleaved through this fragile facade of merriment, piercing clearly into the ears of Famas and Paimon:

"The private matter you mentioned... do you mean killing Ning Lan in the Abyss of Layered Rocks?"

The air suddenly froze, and Paimon's voice stopped abruptly, like a string being forcibly snapped.

The little mascot's face froze instantly with the joy of a long-awaited reunion. Its wide-open eyes were filled with disbelief and astonishment, and its slightly open mouth seemed to be frozen in place by an invisible cold current. Its entire small body was frozen in place.

"Traveler, you..."

Paimon cried out in surprise, rushing to the Traveler's side like a startled stardust, his eyes darting nervously toward Famas, fearing that the latter might storm off in a fit of rage.

A fleeting look of surprise crossed Famas's face, so quick it was almost an illusion.

He met the traveler's gaze, which was so calm it was almost penetrating, and calmly spread his hands, his shoulders slightly shrugged, his expression as serene as the afternoon mist in Mondstadt dissipated by the wind.

“It’s one of the purposes,” Famas smiled, his tone relaxed to the point of being casual. “But I didn’t go to the Abyss of Laminaria. It’s just a matter of lifting a finger; there’s no need to go that far.”

The brief silence lingered and stretched in the air.

Famas's gaze fixed on the traveler.

That extremely faint yet unmistakably clear aura was finally captured precisely by him—a trace of cold, slightly salty air emanating from the depths of time, like salt crystals buried in rock layers for millions of years, or like a wind that swept across a desolate sea in ancient times. A dark glint flashed in Famas's eyes, his tone imbued with an undeniable, questioning tone:
"You've seen Heureia?"

The question format conveys a strong sense of certainty.

"Yes."

The traveler's answer was a monosyllabic honesty, his gaze meeting Famas's without flinching.

“She talked to us a lot about the past of the salt in the earth and about the destruction of the salt flats.”

After saying this, the traveler fell silent, his fingertips unconsciously rubbing the hem of his clothes, as if he was intensely sifting through his next words.

She had so many questions to ask, such as why Famas killed Ninglan, and why he woke her from her slumber if he felt indebted to Heulia.

What travelers find even more incomprehensible is that after resurrecting Heuria, why then erase all of the Salt Mother's only remaining children from the world? Isn't this the cruelest secondary injury inflicted on the demon who has already suffered so much?

However, with a thousand thoughts stuck in her throat, each question seemed so heavy that she didn't know where to begin.

From what stand should the traveler condemn Famas before him? Is it out of sympathy for Heureia? Or is he merely a bystander who sees injustice?
Just as the traveler was struggling with his inner turmoil, Famas appeared unusually frank and natural, as if the heavy conversation they had just had was nothing more than ordinary small talk.

He even winked at the traveler with great interest, his red pupils gleaming with an elusive light in the sunlight.

Immediately afterwards, Famas posed a question that left both Paimon and the Traveler momentarily stunned:
"Does Heureia now..." Famas's voice held a hint of amusement, the last syllable rising slightly, "...understand her own identity?"

This sudden question was like a pebble thrown into a calm lake, creating ripples.

The traveler and Paimon looked at each other, their faces full of confusion. Paimon even stamped his foot in the air and asked urgently:
"Identity? What identity? You mean her identity as the Salt Demon? Of course she knows that!"

Upon hearing Paimon's matter-of-fact answer, Famas's face showed obvious surprise.

He raised an eyebrow slightly, his gaze lingering for a moment on Paimon's puzzled little face, as if to confirm whether the other was truly so naive.

Then Famas let out a very soft, almost inaudible sigh, tilting his head to stare at the two of them.

"Tsk..."

The boy's voice lowered, "Didn't I tell you before? About the resurrection ceremony, about the truth of resurrection."

Famas's gaze passed over the traveler and Paimon, landing on the shimmering sea in the distance, as if he were carefully choosing his words, or perhaps recalling a crucial detail.

"It was not Heureia herself who was truly resurrected."

FAMAS spoke, each word clear and slow, carrying an undeniable, icy quality.

"To be precise, what you see as Heureia is merely a vessel containing her memories and some of her thoughts."

"In essence, it's just a grass slime."

The boy tilted his head slightly, a cruel smile curving his lips, and asked again:

"It wouldn't... actually think it's the Salt Demon God, would it? (End of Chapter)"