"...What dumpster did you dig up all this crooked nonsense from?"
Qianyi, standing nearby, listened with black lines practically appearing across his forehead. He couldn't help rubbing his brow with a sigh.
He really wanted to pry open the head of Stelle, this Galactic Baseballer, and see where this little raccoon—who usually did nothing but rummage through dumpsters—had learned such utterly absurd bits of strange knowledge.
She hadn't even been born for a year, yet she'd grown eight hundred ulterior motives, and used the remaining ninety percent of her brain capacity for intensive internet surfing, hadn't she?
This child was beyond saving. Bury her.
No! This wasn't the time to roast this cyber-raccoon!
Qianyi violently shook his head, forcibly dragging his wandering thoughts back to reality.
The current situation was more than merely "unfavorable" for him. It was practically a textbook example of being stuck riding a tiger.
This was a dead end.
To the left was an abyss, to the right was a cliff. Either way, he was dead; the only difference was how he wrote his last words.
No matter what he chose, what seemed to await him was an abyss leading straight to death.
Worse still, the Sword of Damocles hanging over his head had already begun to wobble, because judging by the time, nearly a day had passed outside.
Before leaving Xi's painting world to find Long Night Moon and the Stellaris Train, beginning his trailblazing journey to Teyvat Continent, he had "comforted" Elysia, Raiden Mei, Herta, and Tingyun one by one until they were utterly satisfied, until they could no longer muster even the slightest fighting spirit, until they blissfully drifted off to sleep. Only then had he managed to get away.
And with the physical condition of those four, they should have woken up