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Chapter 33 - The Wealthy

Inside the manager's office of the Northland Bank.

The overweight manager Andre paced back and forth, his brow tightly furrowed and his whole body radiating agitation.

From the sofa, the Fatui squad leader Yakov sneered at him, his tone dripping with mockery.

"Andre, look at yourself. You're like some ridiculous circus clown."

The words instantly ignited Andre's fury.

He lunged forward, seized Yakov by the collar with a thick arm, and roared,

"You damn bastard! If it weren't for you idiots, how would the Northland Bank end up in this mess?!"

Yet Yakov remained unusually composed. He calmly pried Andre's fingers loose.

"Andre, you're confused. Our squad's job was simply to test the copied talisman. Nothing more."

Andre's face turned beet-red with rage.

"Trying to dump all the blame on me? No chance! I'll report every detail of your cowardly retreat to Lord Pantalone!"

At that, Yakov's expression darkened.

"We never fled. If the Millelith reinforcement had arrived, our entire squad would've been wiped out."

Andre scoffed.

"Yakov, let me be blunt—there was no reinforcement. If you'd taken Keqing out right then, none of this would've happened."

"Nonsense! I heard that man shout that support was coming any moment!" Yakov insisted, refusing to admit otherwise. If no reinforcement existed, he would surely be charged with desertion.

"Our intelligence personnel can testify there was no reinforcement. Stop arguing."

"Then the intelligence personnel are wrong—hardly the first time."

While the two hurled accusations back and forth, the office door suddenly swung open.

A young man stepped inside—refined, elegant, and wearing thin gold-rimmed glasses. Even without raising his voice, he exuded a chilling nobility.

The moment Andre and Yakov saw his face, their argument died. Cold sweat rolled down their foreheads.

The man smiled faintly.

"Go on. Keep arguing. If you don't hurry, you can continue your discussion in front of the Doctor."

The mention of the Doctor sent a paralyzing chill down both their spines.

Andre was first to collapse to his knees.

"Lord Pantalone, I was wrong! Please spare me!"

Yakov followed immediately, any remaining pride evaporating.

Pantalone brushed past them with an icy snort.

"Stand up. Tell me everything from the beginning."

Terrified, the two men recounted every detail of the Wang incident without daring to hide a single word.

When they finished, Pantalone frowned slightly, sharp light flickering in his eyes. Someone was clearly manipulating things from the shadows.

After a moment of silence, he asked,

"What do you suggest we do now?"

Yakov thought briefly.

"We should pressure the Liyue Qixing through diplomatic channels and force them to use the Millelith to suppress the protests."

But Andre quickly shook his head.

"That only works before the message spreads. If we pressure them now, the Qixing will only harden their stance. The correct move is to offer humanitarian compensation to the victims and minimize further impact."

Pantalone acknowledged the logic—but ultimately rejected the idea.

If the bank compensated victims even once, endless claims would follow.

That precedent could never be allowed.

He turned to Yakov, voice cold as winter.

"You violated orders, colluded with Wang, and defrauded Liyue citizens."

Yakov's face drained of all color. His hands clenched, then slowly loosened—resignation settling into his eyes.

"Lord Pantalone… my squad members… will they be spared?"

Pantalone gave him only a glance.

"I will try."

He patted Yakov's shoulder—a gesture devoid of warmth, more like a formal goodbye—before turning and leaving.

Andre watched Yakov, a complicated sorrow in his eyes.

"I'll try to secure compensation for your family… to ensure they can live safely after this."

Yakov forced a bitter smile.

"Thank you."

At Yujing Terrace

Another emergency meeting of the Liyue Qixing was convened.

This time, the atmosphere was completely different.

The same members who previously defended the Fatui were now furiously condemning them—each louder and more indignant than the last, as if they had always hated the Fatui's guts.

From her seat, Keqing observed their performance with cold amusement, the corner of her lips curving in scorn.

Now that Liyue's public opinion was boiling, and everyone rejected Fatui, standing on their side was the same as declaring oneself a traitor to Liyue.

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