Genshin Impact: Watch me turn the tables and kill my servants at the start!

Fanes felt that he must have owed Teyvat a huge sum of money in his past life, otherwise why would God torment him like this?

Six months ago, I was transported to Fontainebleau. When I woke up in a frozen little body, rain was pouring down on my face.

Lying in that stinky alley, the last memory lingering in his mind was the bowl of braised beef noodles he'd made while working overtime the night before. Honestly, if he'd known that time travel would mean he wouldn't even be able to drink that soup, he would have preferred to continue attending classes.

But reality is just that cruel.

He became an orphan, without parents, without Mora, without a house, and without even a decent set of clothes. The only thing left was the pile of online novels he had stayed up all night reading before his transmigration. Fantasy, Xianxia, ​​urban superpowers, transmigration and reincarnation—it had them all.

In those novels, the protagonists who transmigrate either become kings and conquerors or cultivate immortality with cheat codes. But for him, Fanes, a little six-year-old, there is only one thing he can do—rely on his memories of his previous life to submit manuscripts to the Fontaine Bookstore.

And so he began his "literary career".

"The Arrogant Water God Falls in Love with Me", "The Story of Two Female Colleagues", "Full-Time Executive Officer", "Rebirth: I Am the Favorite Son of Heaven"...

In short, he writes whatever is popular in the market. Anyway, he has seen so many tropes in his previous life that he can make up three million words with his eyes closed.

The bookstore owner went from initially dismissing the book to becoming completely engrossed, and finally begging him to write more books, all within just three months.

With his meager earnings from writing, Fanes managed to rent a decent attic room and lived on baguettes every day. Although he was only six years old, his mentality was already as Buddhist as a sixty-year-old man—as long as he didn't starve, what did he need?

However, the clutches of fate never spare anyone.

That afternoon, Fanes had just received his royalties from the bookstore, with 30,000 moras in his pocket, and was wondering if he should splurge on a limited-edition strawberry cake that evening. He skipped and hopped into the alley, and then saw two Mirror Maidens dressed in the uniforms of the Fools, standing at the door of his rented room.

At that moment, Fanes stopped in his tracks.

He recognized the distinctive uniform—the Fools. These guys weren't exactly well-known in Fontainebleau, but they weren't bad either; at most, they were treated like diplomats and kept at a distance.

But Phanes knew very well that, if he remembered correctly, there was a place under the Fools called the House of Hearths, and the House of Hearths had a custom of taking in orphans everywhere.

It looks like an adoption with ill intentions.

"You are Faenes?"

One of the ladies in the mirror spoke, her voice as cold as if she had been pulled out of an ice cellar.

Fanes' mind raced. He was six years old, less than 1.2 meters tall, and his waist was probably not even as thick as the lady's thigh. If it came to running, he couldn't outrun these well-trained fools. If it came to fighting, he probably wouldn't even reach their knees.

In this situation, there is only one solution.

Fanes gave a naive smile, her eyes curving into crescents. "Ladies, I'm going next door to buy some ice cream! Wait for me here for a bit."

The two women exchanged a glance, seemingly convinced that a six-year-old couldn't cause any trouble. One of them nodded: "We can go quickly."

Fanes turned and walked away, his steps as light as a rabbit's. He crossed two streets and turned into a seemingly ordinary general store. The store sold all sorts of things, from everyday necessities to rare minerals. The owner was a man in his thirties named Marcel, who looked honest and always had a smile on his face.

Fanes knew this person.

Knowing that Marcel is Vasher, knowing what Vasher did, knowing the truth behind the "serial disappearances of girls" case, and knowing the relationship between the primordial waters of the womb and those dissolved girls.

But none of that matters now. What matters is that Vashe has the waters of the primordial womb in his possession.

Fanes walked to the counter, standing on tiptoe to barely reach the edge. He looked up, staring directly into Vascher's eyes, and then revealed an expression that a six-year-old shouldn't have.

"Mr. Vasher, give me a bottle of seawater from the original fetal sea."

Vasher's smile froze on his face.

"Who are you? How do you know...?"

Fanes waved his hand, his expression resembling that of an impatient adult.

"Stop talking nonsense! Just give me a straight answer, are you going to give it to me or not? If you don't, tomorrow Judge Villette's desk will have a complete investigation report on the 'Serial Missing Girls Case.' It will include how you used the Primal Sea of ​​Immortals to dissolve those girls, why you did it, and even who you plan to target next."

Vasher's face turned completely pale.

Fanes could see that the man was trembling. The fear wasn't feigned; it was the reaction one feels when their deepest secrets are exposed. Vasher opened his mouth, as if to say something, but ultimately said nothing.

After about ten seconds, Vasher pulled a small, sealed bottle from under the counter, containing about half a bottle of what looked like an ordinary, clear liquid. He pushed the bottle across the counter, his hand still trembling slightly.

"You win."

Fanes picked up the bottle, checked the seal, and, after confirming there were no problems, tucked it into his pocket. He smiled at Vascher, a smile as radiant as that of a six-year-old angel.

"Thanks, Uncle Washa. Don't worry, I won't tell anyone, just don't do those things again."

Vasher didn't speak, but just stared intently at him, his gaze so complex that it was impossible to read.

Fanes turned and walked out of the general store, the bottle in his arms pressed against his chest, cool and refreshing. He took a deep breath and walked back towards the two ladies-in-waiting with mirrors who were still waiting for him.

They frowned when they saw that he was holding a bottle instead of an ice cream.

"Didn't you go buy ice cream? What's with this bottle of water?"

Fanes lifted the bottle and shook it; the liquid inside shimmered faintly in the sunlight. He thought for a moment and decided that a reasonable excuse that didn't require much explanation was the safest bet.

"Well, the boss gave it to me! Want me to try a sip?"

As he spoke, he unscrewed the bottle cap and tilted his head back to take a small sip.

The primordial seawater slid down his throat, cool and slightly salty, like drinking diluted salt water. Faenes smacked his lips, feeling nothing at all.

Seeing that he was still standing there unharmed, the ladies-in-waiting finally put aside their last doubts. They nodded, flanking him on either side, and led him through the streets of Fontainebleau, toward a place he had never been before.

Fanes followed among them, his short legs moving quickly, with only one thought in his mind: the House of Hearths, the former servant Cujavina, was he going there for a job interview or to his death?

Oh well, let's just take it one step at a time. Anyway, he still has half a bottle of the original fetal sea water. If things really come to a head, he can just dissolve them all.

Thinking of this, Fanes' mood suddenly improved, and he even felt like laughing.

When the lady with the hidden mirror pushed open the door of the fireplace house, Phanes saw a tall woman standing in the center of the hall, with her back to them.

That's Kujavina.