Genshin Impact: I Am a Slime

The veterans on board truly lived up to their reputation as battle-hardened.

Although the merchant ship was instantly reduced to floating debris and burning wreckage by the devastating attack, the casualties were far lower than expected.

Many highly experienced veterans, relying on their almost instinctive battlefield sense, leaped into the icy, turbulent Yunlai Sea just moments before the shells tore through the hull, narrowly avoiding the core shockwave of the explosion.

On the sea, countless figures wearing tattered armor in the Fools' standard uniform struggled and swam to survive in the waves.

The soldiers on the other merchant ships, witnessing this scene, reacted swiftly. They immediately slowed their advance and threw out ropes and lifebuoys, shouting at the top of their lungs to rescue their comrades struggling in the waves.

The cold, impersonal orders were temporarily forgotten; saving lives was the most urgent instinct at that moment.

On the deck of the flagship Yermak, Pantalone coldly watched the merchant ship carrying a massive amount of Mora sink into the abyss.

As the golden Mora poured into the sea like a flood, its final, dazzling gleam of wealth and lies reflected in the firelight, his eyes remained unmoved, showing neither regret nor anger, as if what sank was merely a pile of meaningless stones.

When he saw the veterans in their Fools uniforms struggling to survive in the icy water, crying out in pain or despair, his face remained chillingly calm, as if the tragedy unfolding before him had nothing to do with him.

On the contrary, Famas, who was beside him, keenly noticed the unusual behavior of the soldiers who had fallen into the water amidst the chaos.

The slowness of his movements, the white hair peeking out from beneath his armor, even the mutilated limbs—his crimson pupils suddenly contracted, his brows furrowed deeply, and he turned to Pantalone, his voice carrying a suppressed chill:

"Pantalogne, the other ships don't seem to be carrying the Fools' elite troops, do they?"

The banker elegantly raised his hand, gently pushing up his glasses with his fingertips. His gaze behind the lenses was calm and unwavering, a textbook smile even curving his lips. His tone was as light as if he were discussing the weather.
“Oh? You noticed... That’s right, they are all retired veterans of the Fools.”

Pantalone nodded slightly, her posture as elegant as if she were giving a charity speech.

"It has always been my small but sincere wish to lead these veterans who shed blood and sweat for the winter to return home in peace and enjoy their old age with the honor and generous compensation they deserve."

After adopting that compassionate demeanor, Pantalone abruptly changed the subject.

That perfect smile was instantly veiled with a perfectly timed sense of helplessness and sorrow, a carefully crafted hint of regret in his voice, and his gaze was fixed on the approaching Death Star, his focus precisely on Ningguang on the bridge.

"But who could have predicted that Ningguang, the Tianquan Star Lord who sits in Liyue Harbor and is known for her wisdom and skill, would be so cold-blooded and ruthless, without any mercy?"

"How could she issue such a ruthless order to attack an unarmed civilian vessel full of wounded soldiers who had lost their fighting ability?"

Pantalone drew out the last syllable, with a nauseatingly hypocritical sigh, and spread his hands in an utterly innocent gesture, completely absolving himself of any responsibility:

"It seems that this little wish can no longer be fulfilled."

These shameless and distorted words were like the hiss of a venomous snake. As soon as they were spoken, Pantalone immediately withdrew her false expression of pity, as if Famas's almost icy gaze was just a gentle breeze, not worth a second glance.

His gaze, with pinpoint accuracy, traversed the turbulent sea, locking firmly onto Zhongli, the imposing figure nestled within the hull of the Death Star. Even across such a vast distance, Pantalone's gaze, behind his glasses, seemed to pierce through the smoke and waves, clearly seeing the calm, unwavering golden eyes of the guest elder of the Hall of Rebirth.

Famas's gaze grew increasingly cold as he looked at Pantalone's hypocritical act.

At this moment, these retired soldiers of the Fools probably felt only desolation at the hopelessness of returning home and resentment towards the enemy.

They probably thought until their deaths that they were just unlucky, that at a time when the relationship between Liyue and Winter was tense, they just happened to run into the claws of the Southern Cross fleet, the dragon king of the sea.

They directed their hatred at the Big Dipper and blamed their failures on bad luck, completely unaware that the one pushing them into this doomed situation was none other than the smiling, shrewd executor behind them.

Having lived as a demon god for thousands of years, Famas had become accustomed to deceit and intrigue. The long passage of time and the erosion of power, like a whetstone, had worn away the humanity of most demon gods who had existed for thousands of years, leaving their moral bottom line blurred.

The last vestige of moral compass that Famas held in his heart was shaped by his brief but pure human experiences over the past decade or so before his transmigration.

But no matter how much he emphasizes his human heart, in the eyes of others, he is ultimately a tyrannical and all-powerful demon god.

Even so, Pantalone's actions at this moment, using the loyalty and sacrifice of those aging veterans to achieve his goal, still crossed the line that FAMAS had little left.

Perhaps it was because, as the god of war, he had witnessed too much devastation and retained a last shred of compassion for life; or perhaps it was the images of his former subordinates, who had suffered hardship and displacement after the fall of their kingdoms, suddenly surfacing in his mind… Famas’s opinion of Pantalone was rapidly declining.

Meanwhile, another Fools merchant ship that was at the forefront became unfortunate prey under the guns of the Death Star.

The gunners moved swiftly and ruthlessly, turning their dark gun barrels in unison, their cold metallic gleam pointing directly at the target.

The surviving Fools soldiers on board witnessed the horrific scene of their comrades' ship instantly turning into pieces. The hellish sight was still vivid in their minds, and the chill of death was already upon them!

"Turn around! Turn around quickly!"

The helmsman screamed in despair, his voice distorted with fear.

"Jump! Everyone jump into the sea!!"

The instinct for survival instantly overwhelmed military orders.

Pantalone's orders seemed so pale and powerless at this moment. The soldiers of the Fools jumped into the icy sea like dumplings being dropped into boiling water, just to avoid the final cannon fire that was about to devour everything.

Pantalone took it all in.

The soldiers' disobedience was crystal clear, yet he did not utter a word of rebuke, nor did his eyes show the slightest ripple. It was as if the life and death of those soldiers who jumped into the sea, along with his own authority being ignored, had become insignificant background events.

His full attention remained focused on the guest gentleman on the deck of the Death Star, who remained calm and seemingly detached from the situation. (End of Chapter)