"...Oh my goodness, are they really serious?"

These fanatical Four Feet Sanctum cultists swarmed forward, jumping up to hit Boothill and Argenti's knees.

...But it had little effect, like using a Normal-type move against a Steel-type opponent in a game.

After hitting for a while, a group of cultists, clutching their red and swollen hands, retreated to the side, incredulously watching the unmoving Boothill and Argenti.

"Wuwu! It hurts, my hands hurt so much... Wh-why?! These Giants, they're actually immune to our faith-infused attacks?"

—

fate/zero.

"Pfft—"

Inside the Einzbern Castle, Irisviel couldn't help but cover her mouth with her hand, letting out a very soft laugh. Her red eyes curved into crescent moons, and her body trembled as she tried to suppress her laughter.

"Oh dear, I'm sorry, Saber..." Her voice still carried lingering amusement as she wiped away tears of laughter from her eyes, "It's just... they look so serious, and they're trying so hard... like little elves trying to smash a city wall with candy, it's a bit... cute?"

Boothill was heavily cybernetically enhanced, and Argenti wore a full set of silver armor... it would be problematic if they could be hurt by mere fists, wouldn't it?

"Even ordinary armor cannot be shattered by Pepeshi's fists, but I am very curious about what they mean by 'infusing faith.' Could it be some kind of magic?"

Saber's expression remained unchanged, still serious and earnest.

"There is no such thing as magic, Saber, this is merely the rhetoric of a cult organization."

"A cult organization... equivalent to heretics in our time? So they are all just a bunch of guys who bewitch people's minds."

"Actually, it's just that the leader stirred up the envy and hatred in the hearts of these Pepeshi. However, the problem isn't entirely with that leader; ultimately, it's the Pepeshi themselves who have problematic views, as if tall people are inherently enemies of short people."

—

"…Ranger machine, kid!"

"It seems Knight of Pure Beauty's beliefs are above yours."

Seeing that the newcomers meant trouble, the leader quickly calmed down and asked about their intentions. Boothill didn't waste words with them, directly demanding the hostages and telling them to get out of Penacony.

How could the leader tolerate such insolence? He immediately ordered his men to close the hotel doors and released the hidden Dreamjolt Troupe. However, in front of those who had just saved Penacony, these small-fry were no match, and Boothill took them all down with two shots.

"H-how could this be? The leader's divine power, which should have been formidable, was surprisingly vulnerable in front of the Giants, who are supposedly strong on the outside but weak on the inside..." The fanatical cultists watched everything unfolding before them in disbelief, "It makes no sense, this... this simply doesn't add up! Lord Leader should clearly be an Emanator of the Four Feet God-King, the wise leader of all miniature races in the world..."

"What God-King or leader? You've all been fooled by this guy, haven't you?" Boothill leisurely loaded bullets one by one into the chamber, "Heh, by the way, my offer hasn't expired yet. I'll give you forty more seconds, hand over the hostages quickly! Then get out of my sight, or you'll be staring down the barrel!"

"Ugh... Th-this is just a small obstacle on our path of cultivation! Do not let these despicable villains hinder your path to enlightenment! As l-long as we collect a little more membership fees... Yes, as long as the Four Feet Sanctum's funds are more sufficient, defeating these Giants will be no problem at all!"

"Isn't your uncle very rich?"

The leader roared furiously at the Astral Express Crew: "Wh-who told you to mention Otti! Shut up quickly!"

Boothill's gaze darkened: "Oh? Still not planning to move? Time is running out!"

Seeing that their lives were about to be lost here, a group of Pepeshi clamored to withdraw from the cult. The leader, Roy, on one hand angrily denounced them as false believers, and on the other hand complained that Qingque, the woman addicted to gambling, was an ominous sign, then quickly fled.

—

Arcane.

"Huh? That's it?" Vi made a displeased sound, frowning deeply, "What the hell? He just chickened out?"

She watched the Pipi-Xi Person scrambling away, his escape speed even faster than the "Giants" he despised and hated.

"I thought someone from such a wealthy background who insisted on doing bad things would at least have some... hmm... hidden difficulties? Like family suppression, or Old Oti looking down on him, but there's nothing?"

In the Piltover Police Department's lounge, Vi rested her boots on the edge of the table, her face showing obvious disappointment and confusion: "He looked like he was pissing himself, like a Zaun rat scared out of his wits. So boring... I thought there would be some kind of twist, but he's just a pure coward?"

Perhaps having grown accustomed to the straightforward conflicts of the Undercity and the ruthlessness of biting off a piece of the opponent even in desperate situations, she felt a physiological disappointment and disgust at this completely reckless behavior and utter lack of responsibility when push came to shove.

More than truly bad people, Vi hated spineless cowards. If someone was bad with a bottom line and a unique style, she would even appreciate them.

"Vi, what kind of unspeakable difficulties can you expect from someone who uses power and lies to build a cult, deceive others, and satisfy his selfish desires? And what kind of... backbone can he show?"

Caitlyn's gaze lingered on the doorway where the leader had fled and disappeared, her voice cold: "His unspeakable difficulties might just be fear of facing legal arbitration, losing the worship of his followers, and fear of his uncle's wrath." Caitlyn narrowed her eyes, "...But none of these can be a reason for him to harm others."

"You're right, Cupcake."

Thinking of how that leader, backed by Old Oti, not only swindled money from his followers but could also return to his comfortable life at no cost, Vi wished she could punch his nose and break it.

"Damn it... these scumbags who do whatever they want just because they were born into a good family really piss me off. Boothill shouldn't have let him go; he should have caught him and sent him to Old Oti! Let's see what that old man who only 'ho ho ho ho' has to say!"

—

After dealing with the leader, the group successfully rescued Qingque and took a commemorative photo together. After that, they parted ways, and the Astral Express Crew also grew tired of the experience... it seemed this day was exceptionally long... so long that she had seen every possible scene. Finally, she simply called Dennis, who was playing cards, back to take over her shift and continue working.

After taking over Dennis's card game, the Astral Express Crew didn't expect Celestial Jade Tiles to be so much fun, and planned to teach it to the others on the Stellaron Hunter when she returned...

(Seven people, not enough for two tables... sigh, when will the Astral Express Crew have new members join?)

...

Meanwhile, on the company's private jet.

"Pfft—hahaha! Oh, I can't take it anymore... hahaha!" Topaz struggled to suppress her laughter, and it was a while before she caught her breath. She sharply elbowed Gold Dust, who was meditating beside her, trying to block out her laughter.

"Hey! Wake up! Wake up quickly!" Topaz's excitement in her voice was no less than discovering a new continent, "Tell me! When did you become such a good dancer? That twist... tsk tsk, quite impressive!"

"Dancing?" Gold Dust glanced at the screen of Topaz's phone, which showed himself following the Astral Express and twisting flexibly with the music, wishing he could pull his hat down to cover his face.

"Director Topaz, I beg you to use your shrewd business mind. This is a tourism promotion MV I filmed for Penacony a while ago, at the invitation of the Astral Express."

Gold Dust tried to define this as a purely business matter: "Aren't they going to trailbaze dreams to the entire universe? They need some promotional material, so they approached me. This is, at most, an... advertising appearance."

"Advertising? Alright, Director Gold Dust, your'Sleepless Night' 'advertisement' was quite well-rehearsed, it even included a scene of you transforming into a Cornerstone! Not only that, your expression management was perfect! Your dance moves were perfectly fluid! Next time at the company's annual meeting, the representative for the Strategic Investment Department's performance will be you! How about it, Director Gold Dust?"