Genshin Impact: Please don’t bully me, fellow stragglers

In the banquet hall with a painted dome, crystal chandeliers illuminate the stacked champagne towers.

Celebrities from all walks of life dress up carefully and have cups and cups intertwined.

This is a dance party organized by the wealthy Pantalone.

"As for what you mentioned last time," Pantalone, wearing a gray tuxedo, stood by the floor-to-ceiling windows in the darkness, and said to Sandone, "There is no one named Nanke in the winter, but there are quite a few whose translated names are close to Conan. "

Sandone frowned: "That's it."

Is there really nothing we can do against that young man?

"Sandogne, this is the first time I see you interested in something other than machinery," Pantalone looked at her expression and asked, "Is it related to the boy you imprisoned?"

"Yes, I thought I could catch him." Sandone shook the golden wine in his hand and watched the tiny bubbles on the wall of the glass rise and disappear one by one. "How can I shake him..."

"Instead of playing with new toys," Pantalone looked at her and reminded, "you probably didn't turn a blind eye to the letter the doctor sent back from Xumi, right?"

Sandone stopped shaking her glass: "Don't talk about spoilers in elegant occasions, Pantalone."

"Even if I don't tell you, the challenge is over and you still haven't started. Do you have to wait for the general manager to urge you in person?"

This is really what Sandonne planned.

She is an expert specializing in mechanics.

In her eyes, the doctor's research that mixed mechanics, alchemy, medicine and elemental science was completely a crooked way that only a madman could come up with.

Using machinery as a carrier to conduct god-making experiments?

What a joke.

It will definitely fail.

No one knows this better than Sandonne.

The intelligence given to machines by humans can never be higher than the human being itself, provided that it cannot be certain that it can form its own will.

Otherwise, once a logical error occurs, the first person to be criticized is the creator himself.

The doctor is not afraid of death if he slices too many slices.

She didn't want to take a trip into this muddy water.

On the other hand, it is quite different for machines that can form their own will.

Will itself is a restraining force.

Commonly known as reason.

This is also the mystery that Sandone wants to solve from the boy.

The thought of the young man being locked up in her workshop like a fish.

Sandone looked sideways at the people surrounding them talking, with no interest: "Pantarone, can I go back?"

"Of course," Pantalone clinked glasses with her. "The manufacturer of the clockwork doll is under my control, so you can rest assured."

Nights without snow are colder than days with snow.

Sandone stepped into the house wearing a coat, took a deep breath of warmth, and his cold body finally came to life again.

Throwing her high heels on the edge of the carpet, she quickly walked towards the largest room in the entire mansion, which was the workshop where the boy was imprisoned.

But wait.

Sandonie pushed open a crack in the door, looked at the firelight inside that never stopped, and suddenly paused.

The harsh words she had spoken to him could no longer be fulfilled.

Wouldn't it be embarrassing to just go in like this?

You have to be arrogant when dealing with prisoners, right?

Sandonie grasped the doorknob and hesitated.

What’s the best thing to say as the first thing you say when you walk in the door?

Good evening, the Nanke you are looking for is dead.

Or, tell the truth?

Congratulations, there is no Nanke in Zhiwin, you can continue to hope that she is still alive.

However, you cannot escape the clutches of my Sandone.

...Would the second half of the sentence be too pretentious?

"..." Sandone stood at the door, pondering.

"Standing there and being the door god?" A cold voice suddenly came from the workshop.

Sandonie's hand shrank reflexively.

After a while: "If the executive becomes the doorkeeper, it will scare the children."

The door was finally pushed open, and bright lights and slender shadows fell in.

In her absence, only the fireplace burned quietly in the workshop.

The red firelight illuminated the humanoid machines and parts piled all over the room. There were times when, for a moment, I thought I was in hell.

The skirmisher remained motionless and raised his eyes to look at her.

For so many days, he was also observing.

Who and what kind of manipulation was done to her?

However, nothing was found.

The original Sandone, a girl with gray hair and blue eyes, was like a beautifully decorated dead object, silently staying in the workshop under his eyes without making any sound.

She walked in wearing a white executive coat that almost touched the floor, closed the door behind her, turned on the light, and when she took a step, her slightly red toes were buried in the velvet of the carpet.

While picking up the upside-down glass in the cupboard and pouring water, she stared at him with her eyes lit by the firelight: "Your five senses are very sharp."

It seemed that she had just come back from outside. The top of her hair was slightly moist, with the smell of melting snow.

"You can't escape anyway, how about relaxing a little?"

The smell of alcohol filled the air with her breath.

"Where have you been?" The soldier looked at her extremely red nose and cheeks, and frowned.

"This is not the tone a prisoner should have." She laughed, walked up to him with a cup of steaming water in her hand, looked at him for a long time, and said, "Let me tell you some good news - there is no one called Nanke in the winter. people."

Sandonie expected the boy to show disappointment or surprise.

However, the young man looked at her deeply, without any change.

Oh, he thinks he is "Nanke".

Sandonne remembered.

Sandonie blinked, and a good idea occurred to him.

She stretched out her hand to poke the boy's plump cheeks, smiling with her dark eyes, looking forward to her: "Do you want me to play house with you?"

"You..." the young man opened his lips, "I just said a few days ago that you don't like to be treated as someone else."

"Those are two different things."

Passive and active, the former is annoying, the latter... is toying with.

Don't you expect it?

How does this clever young man behave when he is deeply in love, but she ruthlessly reveals that she is not the one he expected?

The two looked at each other.

Sandone leaned forward and pressed her cheek against the boy's.

The touch is just as expected, warm and soft.

Very annoying.

Sandonie closed her eyes, raised her hand over the boy's head, and loosened the fingers holding the glass mercilessly.

The water was slightly hot and flowed along the young man's face and past her face.

The glass fell onto the carpet with a soft sound, and at the same time, Sandonie felt a slight bite on her cheek.

"Sure enough, it still hurts." Sandone's fingertips went down, caressing his wet eyebrows, the tip of his nose, the peaks of his lips, his jaw, along the wet collarbone, and scratched the unhealed wounds all over his body with his nails. .

All are her masterpieces.

The chain made a series of crisp clanging sounds, and because it was stretched so tightly that it lost its sound, the boy's body stiffened: "Stop."

Sandonne chuckled.