I, the Geo Archon Morax with 2.1 Billion Mora, Have Joined a Chat Group [68]

“Hey, white-haired guy.”

The lazy shrine maiden barely reacted to Accelerator’s remarks, seemingly indifferent—or perhaps, to her, his words were a compliment.

“Who came up with our fancy titles, anyway?”

“Obviously Zhongli,” Accelerator replied bluntly. “Honestly, I think that guy might secretly be a chuunibyo.”

“Hmm… chuunibyo, huh?” Zhongli’s calm voice suddenly spoke from beside Accelerator, making him freeze mid-sentence, swallowing the rest of his comment in mild embarrassment.

“By general logic, my naming of our organization in Teyvat is far from unconventional. If the subordinates of the Tsaritsa are called the Harbingers, then naming our group the ‘Apostles’ is perfectly reasonable.”

“Enough of this topic.” Zhongli brushed aside the banter and swiftly changed the subject. “Thank you all for your assistance. Though events have deviated from the original plan, the chaos we intended is indeed unfolding as anticipated.”

“I can sense the currents of Teyvat’s history shifting.”

“Now, we must adjust our objectives slightly. Particularly you, Crimson Plume Immortal, Fu Hua. Your role will require significant changes.”

Zhongli stood with one hand behind his back, the other toying with a teacup on the table. His figure was tall and poised, exuding an air of effortless authority.

“Perhaps I haven’t mentioned this before, but Immortal Fu Hua, you bear a striking resemblance to a dear friend of mine from long ago.”

“This friend of mine was also well-acquainted with the adepti. You will serve as the centerpiece of our operation to disrupt all of Liyue.”

“You want me to impersonate your deceased friend?” Fu Hua, dressed in a dark navy martial arts uniform, furrowed her brows slightly. “I…”

“I understand it’s a difficult request,” Zhongli said smoothly. “Therefore, in accordance with the fairness of contracts, I’ll personally double your reward points. I seem to recall you mentioned you were in dire need of points, Immortal Fu Hua.”

“Fine. Deal,” Fu Hua agreed without hesitation. “Tell me about your friend’s personality. I don’t want to play the role poorly.”

Zhongli nodded in satisfaction.

Watching from the side, the red-and-white shrine maiden’s expression suddenly became animated, and she began muttering under her breath, “Look, look! This is the power of the God of Contracts! The power of the God of Wealth!”

---

Meanwhile, Tartaglia, or Childe, sat on the second floor of the Northland Bank, gazing gloomily at the dwindling stash of Mora in his private treasure chest.

The prices in Liyue were absurdly high.

A single set of dragon-etched chopsticks had cost him nearly 200,000 Mora—a sum that still made his heart ache.

To make matters worse, the Wangsheng Funeral Parlor had billed the Northland Bank directly for the 200,000 Mora dinner tab. He couldn’t very well use bank funds for personal expenses, so he had begrudgingly paid the bill from his own pocket.

Grumbling to himself, his expression suddenly turned cold. A hydro bow materialized in his hand as he loosed a volley of arrows through the window into the darkness below.

Thwack, thwack, thwack!

The sound of muscles and elemental energy colliding echoed through the night.

Frowning, Childe saw something moving in the shadows where his arrows had landed. His projectiles had struck the figure but shattered upon contact, their energy dissipating.

“Who’s there?” he called out sharply, his voice low.

“Tartaglia, dear boy?”

A strange voice, coupled with an equally peculiar tone, drifted toward him.

Childe’s gaze hardened. He nodded slightly toward the Fatui agents and Electro Cicin Mage who had appeared behind him before leaping into the darkness.

By the faint glow of hydro energy in his hand, Childe saw the figure more clearly.

It was a muscular man in a sleeveless tank top, his chin comically pronounced, with rippling muscles crisscrossing his frame. The bright red hearts emblazoned on his tank top were almost painfully vivid.

The sheer absurdity of the man’s appearance made Childe’s lip twitch in discomfort. He forced himself to suppress his revulsion and asked, “Who are you, and what do you want with me?”

“Ah, Tartaglia-boy! I am the Seventh Apostle of the Outer Order, Puri Puri Prisoner. Pleased to meet you!”

The man, calling himself Puri Puri Prisoner, sent Childe an exaggerated air kiss.

“Urgh…” Childe nearly choked, visibly struggling to maintain his composure. “You’re one of the Third Apostle, Reimu Hakurei’s, companions from the Rite of Descension?”

“Of course,” Puri Puri Prisoner replied. Though his face was hidden behind a black mask, his overly animated body language was impossible to ignore. He flexed his biceps, struck poses, and twisted his body as though competing in a bodybuilding contest.

Ignoring the theatrics, Childe pressed on. “What do you want with me?”

“To negotiate a contract!” Puri Puri Prisoner said, his tone suddenly serious. His movements stilled as he continued, “We require the method for creating the Sigil of Permission.”

Childe pondered for a moment before a sly smile spread across his face. “You want to resurrect the demon gods—the ones the Geo Archon sealed beneath Liyue, don’t you?”

“That’s none of your concern, Tartaglia-boy,” Puri Puri Prisoner said, placing a finger to his lips in a shushing gesture. “Otherwise, your Tsaritsa may find herself unable to protect you here in Liyue.”

“Oh? A threat?” Childe’s smile widened.

“No, merely a proposition,” Puri Puri Prisoner replied smoothly. “We will create chaos throughout Liyue Harbor, even across all of Liyue, ensuring that Snezhnaya gains everything it desires amidst the disorder. In return, you will provide the method for crafting the talisman.”

“Not exactly a fair deal,” Childe mused, his interest piqued.

“You want the Geo Archon’s remains, don’t you? We’re not interested in it,” Puri Puri Prisoner said, standing tall and confident. “After the First Apostle killed him, we left his body at the center of the Rite of Descension. As long as the Qixing don’t interfere, Snezhnaya will get exactly what it wants from this chaos.”

“Interesting.” Childe pulled a small notebook from his coat and tossed it to Puri Puri Prisoner.

“Here’s what you need. Don’t disappoint me.”

“Of course, Tartaglia-boy,” Puri Puri Prisoner said with a dramatic bow before disappearing into the shadows.

---

T/N: ... I didn't use my clairvoyance for that.

This is a fan translation of 我，21亿岩王帝君加入聊天群 by 大一统. All rights to the original work belong to the creator. Please support them by exploring their original work or sharing it with others if you can. Thank you for reading and supporting my efforts to bring this story to a wider audience!