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Chapter Text

This WIP has been collecting dust for maybe a year or two, but recently I got the inspiration out of nowhere to keep working on it. A lot of things happened ever since I started writing it, so I've both been busy and emotionally... absent? But that's not important. :)

I don't have a written plan on how the story's gonna go, so I'm mostly writing the plot as I go. HOWEVER! I do have a general idea of where I want it to go. And trust me, if you, dear reader, love a good story where the female lead and male lead are both intellectually at war with one another, then this won't disappoint. I'm gonna lay it out right here: I love pain, but only if it hurts good. A lot of whispers of desire will go unsaid and, although they are unsaid, it doesn't necessarily mean that they are hidden. I won't spoil too much, but this is just to give you an idea of what the building romance is going to look like. Just two sapiosexuals having at it.

By the time I post this work, on September 27th 2025, I've already written 2 chapters, each around ~2k-3k words in length respectively. I'm on the 3rd chapter now. Originally I wanted to finish writing at least 80% of the story before posting the first chapter, but impatience got the better of me, and now we're ALL gonna suffer as I don't have any fixed schedule!!! I'll post the first one, and then the second one a few days later (probably). My only fear is that I may or may not change some details as I keep writing. Maybe it's the grammar, typos, or plot-relevant details. I'll have the first two chapters posted since I want to share the work already, and I've read through them many times to make sure they were ready for the public, so they should be good to go. From chapter 3 and onwards, I'll need to be more careful, or mindful? of fixing any issues before posting.

Other things you can expect is, this story will NOT end when your MC's mission ends. There will be much more to it, and the angst goes on. The relationship will not be established that early. As per the tag, it's a slow burn. And, as Irene Adler in BBC Sherlock says, "Brainy is the new sexy," and I fully agree.

This fic has haunted me for the past couple of years. When I say it never left my mind, I mean it. You can probably bet that it won't go away in the future either. So long as I have this passion for Pantalone and MC's dynamic, it will rot my brain till the day I die. I'll try my best to finish this work. Oh and by the way! I know we love the His POV chapters. You can expect those as well. :)

If chapter 2 remains good to go, you can expect it to get released around September 30th 2025. TAGS WILL BE ADDED AS CHAPTERS COME IN. Other notes will be included in their respective chapters.

If I already caught your attention for you to read this far, then I can only pray for your sanity as you go down this spiral.

Welcome to the Stage of Illusions and Desires.

Chapter Text

Disaster looms in every corner of Liyue, in every dark alley, in every step echoing throughout the quiet night. For some, it takes on the shape of a smiling face, hiding whatever cunning plan of theirs behind what is otherwise known as pleasantries and manners. Deceiving. As terrible as it sounds, it works marvelously, considering how easily people who don't know any better fall for it. For those in your and your sister's line of work, it's a game of chess.

Do they stutter? Are their muscles tense, or relaxed? Do their eyes flutter, avoiding eye contact? Do they pause mid-sentence to think about their next words carefully, or do they really not know how to explain themselves? Every detail about an individual's outward behavior is one more clue as to what kind of person they really are. From the common to the uncommon, all individuals become predictable once you figure out all their behavioral patterns. Thus, the pawn captures the king.

This is something you and Yelan picked up on growing up. Whether it runs in the blood or other, the two of you grew a fondness for danger. Or rather, the thrill of it. While she works under the Tianquan of the Qixing as an intelligence officer, you're the private counterpart as a freelancer. You don't want to be tied down by a name or organization. You have the choice to accept or reject commissions. You love knowing you have freedom.

Because you're not professionally affiliated with anyone, you're also closer to your family and the traditions. Though you're the younger sibling, your parents rely on you to follow through with them when Yelan doesn't. For instance, what happened to the Fantastic Bracelet.

"When did you say it happened?" slowly inquired the old man in a gruff voice. His tone and gaze alone were enough to bring about a heavy atmosphere in the room, especially as his sharp eyes were on you.

Keeping your eyes down as a sign of submission, you reply, "About a year and a half ago."

He continues with his line of questioning, "And none of you thought to tell me?" Though his voice remains the same, you feel his patience running thin. Depending on your next words, it might just run out right then and there.

"I only just learned about it myself. Our jobs don't let us meet very often, so I couldn't inquire about it earlier." You hoped this answer would keep his impending wrath at bay for just a while longer.

He takes a deep breath. That's right, it's pretty logical for an answer. He couldn't be irrational and throw his anger out on you.

One minute of silence felt like one hour in this static room. It felt relieving, as if you had just dodged a bullet. It's still too early to celebrate, however, until you're out with the doors closed behind you.

With a renewed purpose after thinking carefully, the old man breaks the silence. "Find it, the Fantastic Bracelet, and bring it back to where it belongs."

"Yes, father."

〜〜〜

"He found out, by the way."

You decided to pay Yelan a visit since your meeting with your father. You only vaguely knew what happened to the bracelet. Your sister had never gone into detail for whatever reason, and you never pried. It was a family heirloom that was passed on to the eldest of you two, as per tradition, but you were never strict with them. You'd rather be omnipresent; aware of your surroundings, yet never choosing sides.

You were chatting and catching up before you brought it up as casually as you could as you watered her plants by the window. She sat on her couch with her head propped up by her closed hand, elbow on the backrest.

Her eyes narrow in thought as she looked at the flowers you just watered. "You mean the bracelet?"

You hum in response as you put down the watering can on the floor. "He told me to find it and bring it back," you add as you go back and sit next to her.

She shuts her eyes as if dealing with a headache. "I assume he didn't take it well?" she groans.

You recount what you told your father when he was about to lose his temper. "He ended up taking it quite well, by his standards," you chuckle. Yelan followed along.

"As for father's mission, your first step is to gather intel." She opens her eyes to look at you. "Is that why you came here?"

You look away sheepishly. "I wouldn't say it was the only reason... But, yes," you return her gaze, "I want to know exactly what happened back then."

She hums in acknowledgement, then sighs as her eyes went down. "I was sent on a mission to find and capture people who smuggled goods who'd later sell them at an inflated price. They were exporting cor lapis ores and other minerals at night under heavy rain. All sound covered by the raindrops' splatter, vision obscured, it was the perfect time for them to make a move under the Millelith's nose.

"I had just made my first move the moment the cargo reached the bridge when one of the Fatui Harbingers appeared from the other end. I infiltrated the group, and I was planning on cutting the ropes and sacks that held the goods together. That way, they'd get startled and scramble around to pick the minerals back up, which would have been a good distraction if it weren't for that Harbinger. He caught me in the act."

He's a perceptive one, you mentally note.

"My cover was already blown, so there was no reason to keep hiding. I went straight for him and exchanged a few blows. He knew how to dodge and block well, and I also hadn't expected him to be innovative with his walking cane," she pauses, releasing another sigh. "I was going for him again, but he hooked his cane around my neck to push me off the bridge. Or, almost. He kept me up off the edge by one of my hands. That's when he took the bracelet as 'compensation' for the little hiccup in his plans. And then he left me to fall into the river."

"No wonder you got sick after that..." you trail off, recalling memories. You learned about the bracelet within the first week it got stolen when you went to see Yelan during your impromptu visit. She had caught a cold and when asked why, she vaguely responded it was because of a failed mission. You let her save her energy and didn't ask for details, but as time went on, you'd gradually forget to, eventually coming to the conclusion that it wasn't important anymore.

She nods and then looks at you again. "You're going to need as much intel as possible. You're gonna be dealing with a Fatui Harbinger. Of course, I'll help you in whatever way I can, though I won't be able to physically."

"Why?"

"That guy almost never leaves his homeland, Snezhnaya, and I'm bound by my work here."

"So, I'll have to travel to Snezhnaya?"

"That's right, unless you can somehow lure him all the way to Liyue Harbor, or strike the next time he comes around on business."

The thought of leaving your homeland for a foreign country wasn't enticing to you. You came to accept Liyue customs as your norm growing up. Your home, family, everything you've known or owned is here. And if something were to happen to you, there would be no way for anyone here to hear about it.

But this is a mission.

Sensing your reluctance, she shifts the focus. "I can't say I know much about him as a Harbinger. He is, however, a well-known figure here. Goes by the alias 'Regrator,' or the owner of Northland Bank."

A smile creeps onto your face. "That's a good enough lead for now."

～～～

Step one: decide how to approach in order to obtain the right intel. Step two: create a fake identity appropriate for the intended method to approach the target. Step three: get the target to drop their guard. Step four: carefully obtain the vital intel. Step five: recover the stolen item. And finally, step six: disappear and leave no trace.

You're already in the middle of step two. In order to decide how you must approach this Fatui Harbinger, you deduced that he must be an intelligent, powerful, perceptive, and either a respected or feared man for him to be the owner of a bank business. Rich and powerful, he must have a good share of connections, which means he might be alert the moment he hears about a suspicious individual trying to sneak their way in. You have no doubt that there have been several attempts on his life, or at least thoughts of. Though, you make a mental note to yourself to always keep in mind that the last bit is more of a guess based on your biased impression of him for stealing your family's heirloom. Whether it's actually the case, it won't hurt to assume the worst to reduce the risks.

You're carefully packing items relevant to your fake identity that you will assume once you set the plan in motion. You've decided that the best way to approach him might just be the most dangerous: you'll meet him as a businesswoman who seems to be doing suspicious activities judging by the bank account you opened with them recently. Someone of social status wouldn't be inclined to meet regular merchants or other ordinary folk. Taking the initiative to meet him might be harder than arousing his suspicion and wanting to learn more about you, due to the layers of security and status. You are one woman against a whole army, after all.

You just finished a deal and earned an insanely generous amount of Mora from it. You run a private Arkhium production company, but because of your illegal activities and Fontaine's strict court and laws, you fled for Snezhnaya in order to safely deposit your reward without getting caught. This is your story, and you will keep some of the fictive details to yourself in the name of "trade secret." Too much free detail is suspicious.

You already forged all the necessary documents and IDs and packed them carefully. In two days' time, you'll set sail and reach the Snezhnayan port by ship. You hired an infamous pirate for the job from the black market in order to avoid identity verification. That way, your story holds true.

With everything planned, packed and ready, your mind wanders off to how your life's gonna be in a few weeks. Will you like the food there? Will the people there treat you as kindly as your neighbors have for the past several years? And most of all, will it be lonely? Without having set sail, you're already missing some people. Namely, Yelan, Chef Mao and his daughter, Dr. Baizhu, as well as his apprentice Qiqi. Though for the last two, you'd rather keep it to yourself. Just like your sister, you would often get injured and in order to avoid raising suspicion, you'd disguise yourself when seeking medical attention. After spending years in Liyue Harbor and dining at Wanmin Restaurant, the owner and his daughter learned about your tastes and prepared your food just the way you liked it. They never missed.

Yelan would look after you as your older sister, and you'd learn from her. She's your sister and your best friend. She's the only one you ever confided in whenever you had problems, and she'd know just the way to help you, whether it was a solution you wanted, or someone to simply comfort you. No one could understand you better than her.

You want to see them one last time before you leave for an indefinite period of time. You have one full day to do that tomorrow.

Chapter Text

The cool humid air from the sea mixes with the smell of hot, tasty meals coming from Wanmin Restaurant. The corners of your lips curl up, though a sinking feeling brings a bout of sadness into it. Chatter fills the atmosphere at Chihu Rock, and you wonder if there'll be a street market in Snezhnaya. Or the way the sun's gracing the land of Liyue with its sunshine. Will the sun also bring some warmth to the cold land, or will the gloomy clouds hide it away as the snow keeps piling up on the ground?

The person before you moves away, and now you're face-to-face with a black-haired man wearing a bright smile.

"Ah, so good to see you! How have you been?" he beams.

"I've been alright, Chef Mao, though I won't be in a few days as I won't be tasting your cooking," you chuckle with an apologetic smile.

Worried that something might have happened, Chef Mao frowns. "Is everything alright? Are you going somewhere?"

"As a matter of fact, I am. I'm headed for Snezhnaya tomorrow," you answer. Surely this much information is fine, right?

Though relieved to hear that you're not in trouble, sadness takes over his expression. "Is it for a business deal? How long will you be gone?" he inquires.

In order to avoid suspicion, you'd tell people that you worked as a merchant when someone asked what your occupation was. 

'How long will you be gone?'

"I'm not sure, maybe a few months..." you pondered.

From your expression, he could tell you're unhappy with this arrangement. For that reason, his tone bears resolution when he asks, "What would you like to have? It'll be my treat."

〜〜〜

You turn the corner after having your fill of Wanmin Restaurant's food, but just then you hear someone call out to you. You stop and turn around to see a young lady holding a box running toward you.

"Xiangling? What's wrong?" You frown.

She stops before you with one hand on her knee to catch her breath for a second. She then straightens up and holds the box up. "This is for you! My father told me about you leaving for a few months, so he had me prepare these."

You curiously eye the box as you take it from her hands. "What is it?" you wonder.

"They're our special Wanmin Restaurant spices that we use in our dishes. He said that, although he might not be able to deliver freshly cooked food all the way to Snezhnaya, perhaps you could still experience the taste of our cooking with these," she explains with a smile.

Your eyes well up as a bittersweet smile carves its way onto your face. You hold the box closer to you and thank her with a bow. You bid farewell, and in a haste, you turn around before tears fell down your cheeks.

〜〜〜

At sunset, you went to the northern part of Liyue Harbor just below the stairs to Yujing Terrace to get a glimpse of a young girl and her mentor. Dr. Baizhu who had escorted an elderly to the stairs, helping them down the first, and short, flight. After waving goodbye and watching them carefully make their way down, his eyes find yours.

Your heart skips a beat. You didn't mean for him to catch you staring. You're about to look away until you notice a cryptic smile on his face. All worry washed away, and only curiosity remains. You analyze his face, especially his eyes. You see no malice in them, or any ill intention. Instead, there's a strange sense of reassurance. There's warmth, but there's also something else.

You've dealt with men wearing similar expressions, and what they all had in common was that, at the time they wore that smile, they were confident, confident of what's supposed to come, and confidence is the feeling of believing in what you know to be true.

Knowledge...

Your eyes open wide at the realization. As if satisfied by your reaction, he turns around and goes back to the pharmacy with the girl following behind him.

Your heart beats faster and your breathing grows quick and shallow, but you don't let it go on for long. You take a few seconds to force your mind and body to function properly. This is no time and place to overthink. As such, you make your way back to your place.

He knows that the person behind those disguises was you.

～～～

You're laying on your bed at home staring at the ceiling with your lamp dimly lit on the nightstand. The soft floral fragrance of valley weaver in your reed diffuser has you relaxing your body and mind. Despite that, you think back on today's event at Bubu Pharmacy.

Though no words were exchanged between you two, you didn't come back empty-handed. To you, this serves as a caution, a warning to say that there are intelligent men out there who can see through disguises. This only inspires you to be more diligent and careful on your mission. In other words, to only think and respond rationally. Be prepared for everything at all times.

You turn to lay on your side before you close your eyes. You take a deep breath to take in that floral scent. Tomorrow, you're leaving Liyue. You can't afford to waste your time thinking about your last day in your homeland, so instead you plan on spending your last few hours on cherishing everything you have here.

～～～

"Hold on to me," the man before you whispered.

His arms are wrapped around you, holding you close to him by your lower back. As you place your hands on his shoulders, he pulls you closer until there's no gap left between your searing bodies. His forehead presses against yours. You feel his hot breath on your lips. You can tell he's at war with himself, debating whether to lean in or to hold back, because you're in the same predicament.

Still holding you close, he moves one hand to hold one of yours. He then pushes his face even closer. "Even if you let go, I'll be holding on to you," he breathes out. His thumb brushes against your hand, and his grip tightens.

You lift your head with half-lidded eyes. You feel undeniably attracted to him and it overwhelms your senses. A sigh escapes your parted lips as you murmur, "Please..." Please don't.

He brushes his lips against yours, inhaling your breath.

"I won't let go."

～～～

Just before the break of dawn, you met with the captain at the meeting point which is on the lower harbor at Feiyun Slope. The plan is to take a boat from Liyue Harbor to Guyun Stone Forest where the ship is anchored.

"The travel is expected to take around two weeks' time. Think you can handle it?" the captain asks.

"I don't have a choice. Don't worry, you won't hear me complain," you reassure. You weren't expecting any part of this journey to go easy.

She cackles at your response, unconcerned about whether anyone heard or woke up from it. "I can see that you mean it. You have the spirit." You nod at that. "Ready to get going?"

Before you could make a sound, you hear a familiar voice behind you.

"Leaving without saying goodbye?"

You turn around and find Yelan looking at you with her arms crossed. You feel your heart immediately warm up. "I could never."

You spread your arms and wrap them around her for a hug. She returns the gesture, if not more. You feel her tighten her embrace.

"Stay safe. Remember to dress warmly. If it gets too dangerous, come back home. We'll think of something else."

You try your best to hold your tears back but to no avail. You feel an urge to let them fall without restraint. Still, you try your best not to speak with a shaky breath as you respond, "I will."

She pulls you in tighter. She then whispers just loud enough only for you to hear. "I got an agent waiting for you in Snezhnaya. His codename is Xu Feng. When you arrive, look for a man with a green, white, and blue scarf. That's him."

Your eyes barely widen. You stay still. In the same whispering voice, you ask, "Why'd you get me an agent?"

"There might come a time when you need to fight, or find yourself in a bind. You can get him to do the dirty work for you," she explains before stepping back. Then, in her normal voice, she asks, "Okay?"

It's as if something in you changed. As if you had switched gears. The look in your eyes no longer belonged to that of a little sister's, but a soldier's who's about to step onto enemy territory. All unnecessary emotions are now pushed to the back of your mind. You look straight into the woman's eyes with an unreadable expression and slowly give her a nod before you respond, "Okay."

～～～

The journey from Liyue to Snezhnaya did indeed take about 14 days, hours rounded up. Around the 12th day mark, the sun had become dimmer and colder as gray clouds replaced the clear blue sky. When you noticed the breeze, you went back into your room to grab a coat. You didn't need the scarf until later.

As the ship approached Snezhnaya, you had begun practicing your character mentally. Others might've thought that you were staring at the ocean thinking about how different life was gonna be for you. But this would work in your favor. Let them think that way.

You're from Fontaine. You studied the language to enrich your knowledge in case it might come in handy someday in your work. Well, lo and behold... You also need to get yourself accustomed to Fontaine food, which made you realize something. You absolutely need to make sure to keep Chef Mao's box of spices hidden at all costs. That was a mistake on your part for not thinking it through before when Xiangling handed it to you.

None of that matters, for now. The ship docked behind some mountains to avoid being seen, so the captain had the crew lower a boat for the rest of the way to the nearest docks. You eventually stepped on land after two weeks, and it is now that you feel the wobble in your legs as you walk. The salt and rocks on the wooden dock didn't help. You take a moment to readjust while the crew unloads your baggage. When they're done, you thank them for their help. Before you left the ship, you thanked the captain and paid her in full. Now, your business with the pirates has come to a close.

Your next objective is to find the man with the green, white and blue scarf. You walk through a crowd of people while you search for the agent. Snow falls slowly and gently. Thankfully, it's not heavy enough to obscure your vision, nor is it windy for it to get into your eyes. You look at the ones passing you, the ones idling around, the ones in the distance away from the docks minding their own business, or the ones merely standing there as if they were waiting for someone, but none of them wore a scarf with those three specific colors.

Yelan specifically said that he would be waiting for you in Snezhnaya. Could it be that the pirates had brought you to a different port? Or maybe he's not waiting for you at any port, but elsewhere in the city? You look around one last time, feeling a strong urge to give up on the idea and go straight to booking your hotel room. But, just then in the distance, you see a group of three men chattering. Two of them were seemingly well-dressed, judging by their long winter coats, hats, freshly shaved beard or styled hair. The third one, however, seemed to be a foreigner who had struck a conversation with the locals. Reasoning? His coat and hat seemed different from what the other two, and practically everyone else, wore, which made you come to the conclusion that it must've been Snezhnayan fashion. Oh, and also the scarf.

You breathe in deeply through your nostrils, then exhale. This was about to become your first social interaction in Snezhnaya. You had to test the waters while executing a flawless performance. It's not your first time, and definitely not the last, but it still doesn't change the fact that uncertainty, or the unknown, could get a human heart racing. You were just better at dealing with it.

With a smile and confidence brimming your eyes, you lift your chin up and walk towards the group with your luggage in your other hand. The sound of your heels against the concrete helped you get into character right away. It didn't take very long for you to stop right next to the 'foreigner.' You wait until the men stop talking and notice you, which happened almost immediately.

"And who..." one of them attempted to ask but instead trailed off to stare, seemingly dumbfounded.

Your eyes hover to him, then to the other Snezhnayan man, and back to him without moving your head. "Irene Belleau."

Your sultry voice and Fontainian accent caught them off guard. As if on cue, the man took off his hat and bowed as he took your extended hand to leave a light peck on the knuckles. "Pleasure meeting you, Ms. Irene Belleau."

As he was bowing, the other man took off his hat to briefly bow as well. The one in front of you eventually lets go of your hand and puts his hat back on, as did the other. Your only reply is a hum that made you appear uninterested.

"I am Zakharov Vadimovich, and my friend here," he gestures with an open hand to the Snezhnayan man, "is Yusupov Petrovich. As for this young man..." He turns to the foreigner who apparently still hasn't given them a name.

You raise your eyebrow as your eyes land on his face for the first time. Though most of his face was covered, his green eyes had you freeze mentally for a split second. They were undoubtedly mesmerizing, but you wouldn't let that become an obstacle in your acting. More importantly, you begin questioning if this person really knew how to be a secret agent. The whole point of a disguise is to blend in and look generic and forgettable, not remarkable.

His eyes bounce between the two men for a second before exclaiming, "Ah! I am very sorry, I forgot to introduce myself. Lucas Hechler is the name." He abruptly turns to you fully to bow at a 15 degree angle for a mere second only. "Pleasure to meet you, Miss!"

You shake your head in small movements, like a nod in acknowledgment. You give the man a look-over, roughly scanning him all the way down and back up. Though the corners of your lips remain turned up, your eyes narrow, like you've just found a prey to hunt down. "Likewise."

Your gaze lingered on him for a moment longer until one of the other two cleared their throat. You turn your head back to Zakharov. You hear Yusupov's voice for the first time. "We work at a trading company. Here at Novokitezhgrad, you can find our liquor to be our symbol!"

"And the mining industry is where the real capital comes from," Zakharov cuts in with a grin.

Yusupov cast him a quick glance, then turns back to you and continues, "If you'd like to try out some of the best variations, I could tell you where to find them!"

It is painstakingly obvious to you now that these two men have been trying to woo you by piquing your curiosity after witnessing your interaction with Lucas. You almost pity them for thinking they could even try. Not to mention, you aren't even interested in liquor to begin with, or money for that matter. You have billions under your name.

You force a smile. "Thank you for the offer, but I'm not interested." You look at those green eyes once again and add, "I am, however, interested in other things..."

From your peripheral vision, you could see Zakharov opening his mouth to say something, but you stop him by raising your hand to him, all while your eyes are trained on those brilliant green gems. "Mister Lucas, humor me for a moment, would you?" Your smirk widens just before you turn around and walk past the three men to a slightly less crowded area. You wait for him there. It only took him a minute, but he finally made it. Satisfied, you turn around again to keep walking. Both of you remained silent as you walked on the streets of Novokitezhgrad.

About five minutes later, you arrive at a hotel. You both enter the building and, as if your positions switched, Lucas was the one leading the way now, so you follow him. Past the lobby, to the elevator, through the hallway, and finally, to a hotel room that had apparently been booked already.

When he turns the knob to reveal the room, you feel pleasantly surprised by the soft light coming from the window through the white curtains. The room is modest with not much decor to set a specific ambience. It lacks the warmth that you were used to back in Liyue. Fortunately for you, you already accepted the change before you even arrived in the snowy lands. This simplicity doesn't bother you.

You step in, setting your luggage in the empty corner of the room opposite from the window. Lucas closes and locks the door behind him. You take off your hat, coat and scarf, which had slightly gotten wet by the melted snow, and hang them in the closet next to the bed neatly. You finally drop the curtain on the performance stage and turn to Lucas who had already removed his hat and scarf. Admittedly, he did have attractive features. But unlike his previous demeanor as a bright and excited young foreigner, the man before you had a stoic expression. He lifts his opened right hand and places it above his chest where the heart is, and this time, he holds his 15 degree angle bow for longer than a second. "Ms. Yelan has instructed me to assist you on your journey here in Snezhnaya. Codename: Xu Feng. Pleased to finally meet the boss' younger sister."

Chapter Text

Your eyes narrow as you stare at the man before you. Your arms cross over your chest, and without smiling, you point out, "Anyone who works in this field knows that the whole point of a disguise is to not stand out. Why are your eyes bright green?"

The man drops his hand to his side and answers, "Though the point is to not stand out, sometimes, hiding in the most dangerous place could be the safest place in hindsight. Those are Ms. Yelan's words," he finishes with his head down.

You nod to yourself in small movements. Your eyes look down while you slowly walk around, pondering in silence for a moment. You are, quite literally, doing that yourself. Your plan is to get a certain individual's attention by throwing yourself in danger on purpose. It's a risk you're willing to take. And, earlier with Zakharov and Yusupov, you wanted to test your identity's personality. She could clearly bring down men with only that much. You would argue that someone of this Regrator's stature would be hard to move, but it is an undeniable fact that all living creatures feel. Gaining his trust is all you need. You hope that after some business meetings, he'd briefly mention the Fantastic Bracelet and then you'll be on your way. If Xu Feng is one of Yelan's trusted aides, then it would make sense for him to play the risky game.

Your thoughts get interrupted by the agent who mentions, after a moment of silence, "They're fake, by the way... My eyes are not actually green."

You turn around and face him. You are puzzled and intrigued at the same time.

"They're contact lenses. Lucas Hechler's from Mondstadt, and his eyes are green and foreign. Xu Feng's eyes are dark and unimpressive," he explains.

Eyes still narrow, a smile creeps on your face, impressed by your shadow's level of intellect. "I see. So the story is that a visitor from Mondstadt came to Snezhnaya, which would obviously attract attention. You're blending into that environment, which leaves Xu Feng in the dark."

"And a tourist is impressed by the things he's never seen before, so asking the locals questions about them wouldn't lead to any suspicions."

"Which becomes the perfect way to fish for information..." you muse to yourself as you trail off.

Xu Feng smiles and nods in confirmation.

The dots are now connecting. You gotta hand it to Yelan's intellect for either coming up with that plan, or choosing him to assist you, let alone hiring him at all. If he's the one who came up with this story, then you're glad you got someone as smart as him.

"So, earlier with those Snezhnayan men, you were doing exactly that?"

"Yes, and I found out a few things," he confirms.

～～～

You're sitting at a round table in the room Yelan had booked for you in advance, according to Xu Feng. She said it was her way of helping you out on this mission, as the older sister. Xu Feng is standing next to you just a few feet away, filling you in about the things he learned up until now.

The Regrator here is both revered and feared by the locals. It is said that many businessmen and women are grateful for his foresight, which leads to the nation's prosperous economy. At the same time, some merchants fear him due to rumors about those who fail to pay off their debt and would want nothing to do with Northland Bank. Some smaller banks are standing today in Snezhnaya, but over the last few years, they've been declining due to bigger competition. Which means that, sooner or later, they're gonna have to become Northland Bank clients if this goes on. As for the rumor itself... There's never been any confirmation, but people speculate that Northland Bank sends people to 'eliminate' them. They would never be heard from since.

You speculate that, while he's the owner of Northland Bank, he has some political power as a Fatui Harbinger, one of the Tsaritsa's closest people. It is entirely possible for him to simply take control over the media about any news regarding the disappearance of these people, nevermind the fact that the leadership is corrupt.

"They've been offering new deals to business owners, with the promise of wealth, or so I hear," he states.

Your eyes find Xu Feng's at this new piece of intel that has piqued your curiosity. "How is it received?"

"So far, only good comments have been made."

Something doesn't feel right...

"What are these new deals about, exactly?" you inquire before taking a sip of your freshly brewed black tea. The drink's temperature had slightly gone lower, making it unnecessary to blow on it before drinking. The hotness is just right. 

"They offer loans to businesses with zero interest for the first three installments."

"There has to be a catch."

Xu Feng nods. "Each installment must be paid at a certain threshold percentage based on the amount loaned. Failure to comply may result in a breach of contract."

"So in other words, if the business fails, even with the loan, it could be the end for the owner," you mull over that last part. Now it's starting to make sense where the rumors come from. But even so, you keep in mind that you are still speculating and that none of it is factual. "It's still too early to hear rumors about those who 'failed to comply,' right?"

"Correct. This new deal was only introduced last week. The first installment is to be paid off by the end of this month."

"I'd imagine there's a clause in the contract agreement stating that the business would be liquidated if the client fails to comply, otherwise the bank would suffer a loss," you presume with a frown.

The man in front of you shakes his head with his eyebrows scrunched up. "That, I do not know. Would you like me to look into it?"

You shake your head, your face expressionless. "There's no need." You take another sip.

Xu Feng raises an eyebrow while wearing that stoic look, but he doesn't say anything.

The two of you remain quiet, and the only thing that prevented complete silence from overtaking the room was the sound of the howling wind.

～～～

Approximately 24 hours have passed since your feet touched foreign land. You didn't have much to unpack, so you didn't spend too much time on that. You had spent the remainder of your day to experience life in Snezhnaya and, to your surprise, it wasn't as bad as you had expected just a couple weeks ago. Snow had landed everywhere, and the thick gray clouds blanketed the sky as far as the eye could see. Of course, it is as cold as they say, but you didn't come unprepared. The only slight mishap is that you didn't bring a coat warm enough for this weather. Liyue could only offer coats for the weather near the warmer regions, and the usage of your Cryo Vision couldn't prepare you for this environment. But that's no problem for you.

The dangerous missions you'd undertaken rewarded you generously. You're partly grateful for that, since it allows you to properly take on the role of Irene Belleau as a businesswoman. Indeed, you are using your own wealth as Irene's net worth. You're responsible for the risks you take as a freelancer. In case it all goes south though, you stashed away a portion of it so you wouldn't return home without a penny.

Before you left to sightsee, you had tasked Xu Feng to find out where the Regrator's main office is located. You intend to begin your work as soon as you know his schedule. The plan is simple, really. Enter the bank establishment, see if you can speak to an agent who can help you open a new bank account to safely deposit a cheque, and get the big man's attention. You need the man in question to be in the building while you're there, which is why you need his schedule.

In the meantime, you made it your goal to study the town's layout in case you ever need it. You also observed the people and their mannerisms. See what behavior the common folk express, what their main worries and troubles are, what they would celebrate for good news, how they plan their days, or even life. What do they eat, and when? How do they raise their children, and how do these children behave outdoors? There are many things you can learn about life in Snezhnaya.

For one, the children love to play with the snow, that much is obvious, and it seems like they are mindful enough not to disturb other people. If they're throwing snowballs, they don't throw them at strangers. This could imply that the parents here are generally not too strict by allowing the children to have some playtime, but strict enough to teach them manners. They are not unreasonable, you deduce.

You're watching people pass by from inside a coffee shop behind the window. You've been drinking your coffee slowly, while waiting for the slice of cake you had ordered, as you analyzed people from their clothes and their gaits. Fortunately, you didn't have to wait for long.

"Chocolate mousse cake for the madam," the young server announces in a small, yet delightful voice. She places the plate with the slice in front of you. You mutter a 'thank you' before she turns around to leave.

Your eyes return to the cake, and you can't help but imagine the taste of it already. The soft texture as you take the first bite, the sweetness and the mellow taste of the sugar, milk and cacao mixed in harmony, and the slightly cold thin layer of chocolate ganache is all you can think about at the moment. Not waiting any second longer, you pick up the fork that had been laying on the table on top of a layer of napkins and stab it into the cake near the tip. Finally, you lift the piece up to your mouth and eat it. It did not disappoint your earlier fantasies.

You went to stab your fork into the cake for a second bite, but you only just realized that the bottom of the cake seemed... out of place. You wobble the slice around with the fork to confirm your suspicions, and sure enough, it almost looked as if there was a very thin pocket of air underneath it. You move the utensil under the cake to lift it and move it aside to further investigate. It didn't take much moving around to see the corners of a folded paper that had been tucked under the food on the plate. You carefully pull it out with your fingers, and then you settle the fork on the plate before opening the note. When you did, there were only a few cryptic words.

It reads:

'EARLY BIRD BROUGHT BACK FOOD TO NEST.'

Seven words, and the meaning is clear. Xu Feng found something.

Before returning to your room, you made sure to finish and enjoy your coffee and cake.

～～～

"His main office is in Snezhnograd's branch, the capital city of Snezhnaya," the agent informs. 

"Then we'd better get going. It'll take 3 days to get there," you state before turning around to him with your arms crossed. Xu Feng stands tall, waiting for your command. "Hire a carriage, and settle the bills for the rooms when we leave. We will depart tomorrow morning at the earliest."

His palm swiftly rises to rest on his chest as he lowers his head in one move. His voice louder and full of conviction, he receives your order. "Right away, my lady."

～～～

You had packed everything that you took out a couple days ago, which didn't take you long once again. You didn't actually hang any of your clothes, you let them stay folded in your luggage. Any skincare item was safely stored in a bag, and every make up item in another. You left them out for the night, since you were planning on using them in the morning. Those bags, and the clothes you were going to wear, were the only things that would remain outside of the luggage for the time being.

Just before the first sunlight, you woke up, got ready, and hopped on the carriage while Xu Feng dealt with the bills at the counter. The coachman placed your luggage in a compartment and, once your trusted aide, albeit temporary, walked in to sit on the passenger seat in front of you, your 3-day travel had begun. You had brought a map with you to study the topography of the land as you travel. An ordinary person might not take much from it, but to trained eyes, details can tell more than one thing. 

Snezhnograd is situated on top of a flat mountain in the snow. What's unique about the territory is that the only way to get to the city is by crossing a long and wide bridge. There's a very open pit, or void of sorts, that goes all around the edge of the city's mountain. It's like a cliff that goes down vertically. Past the void, only tall, snowy mountains can be found. Even the road there goes through a series of mountains. But why?

One single road may cause traffic among merchants or travellers, or even the importers. For Snezhnograd to be the capital city, it has to be very wealthy and populated. The problem with this concept here is that there doesn't seem to be any reason for this location to be the capital, let alone being important enough for the people to willingly choose to live there. Crops can't grow in the city, or in the vicinity, so their best food source is probably imported goods. The countryside may not be able to provide enough for a whole city, so diplomatic relations should be essential. If anything, the only thing this terrain can provide for its people is protection. The mountains, the void and the snow act as a natural barrier. This leads to another question: what is it that they need to protect so much?

There could be too many possible answers to that, so you don't explore the thought any further. Regardless of what it may be, you're starting to see why people revere the Regrator so much. He must've played a huge role in keeping the city far from demise. Indeed, such an act would definitely be seen as heroic and worthy of respect.

Before nightfall, the carriage would stop by inns along the road. You would sleep soundly every night while Xu Feng would keep an eye out. This would go on for three nights. The next morning, you depart once more and it didn't take you long to realize that the carriage had been nearing snow-covered mountains. This would indicate that you are finally almost there. You estimate that you'll reach the bridge by noon.

The road goes up a gentle slope where eventually it gets covered from both sides by the tall rocky walls of the mountains. Your heart beats faster as you get excited to witness the transition from the countryside to the unique city. The rocky movements of the carriage that had numbed you to the sensation after lulling you is now coming back like it's your first time feeling it. In that moment, your heart feels light. You hadn't noticed that you'd been smiling as you watched the landscape from your window.

～～～

From its bright and persistent light behind the dense clouds, you can tell that the sun is now high up in the sky. It feels as though you've reached the furthest point in Teyvat away from the sun's reach. You see it from its brightness, but its warmth is nowhere near your skin. Although it isn't windy, occasional gusts of cold wind would barge into your carriage through the windows. The curtains were barely shielding you from them.

You pull out your map and try to pinpoint your location based on what you could see from outside. By now, the muddy dirt road of snow is high above ground level as it continues leading you right around the edges of a mountain range. You can vaguely see it making a left turn in front of you in the distance. On the right far below you, there's a frozen lake surrounded by white pine trees. This lake transitions into a river that passes through the mountains. It didn't take you very long to find yourself on the map as those properties of the land were unique in the area. Your heart races once more when you find that Snezhnograd is supposedly directly to your left. You look into the distance in front of you again to see how much closer you've gotten. In just a couple minutes, the carriage should take that left turn.

～～～

Sure you did expect a technologically advanced city, but you hadn't expected it to look this huge. Even from a distance, you can see the top of the Zapolyarny Palace, despite the fact that the bridge is still hidden from view. Eventually, the carriage draws near the bridge. You estimate the length to be around a kilometer. It was made out of what you assume to be stone. It must be sturdy for it to withstand its own weight. Piers were built under the bridge at intervals to keep the structure in place. Those piers go all the way down into what you call the 'void.'

The wheels of the carriage abruptly switch from rolling over muddy road to cobblestone. The clip-clops of the horses in front oddly satisfy you as you get ever closer to the city. You push the curtain aside and stick your head out to look at the Palace. Countless pointy towers that had the likeness of ice stuck out, with one bigger and taller than the others resting in the middle. It is unclear if the material is that of ice, or crystal. It appears to have a smooth and shiny surface that reflects like glass. Although right now it looks white and colorless, you have a feeling that the Palace would shine like the biggest piece of crystal in Teyvat once sunlight hits the structure directly, especially as it sets.

Other smaller buildings populate the grounds. You seem to make out another layer of the city slightly higher and behind—still in front of the Palace—the one you see in the front. The lower buildings appear more modest and simple, whereas the higher buildings seemed more... refined. Your first thought is that the lower city must've been the outskirts, or the residential area, while the upper city must've been where all the big stores were at.

The closer you get, the clearer your view becomes. You pull your head back inside and draw the curtain right before officially entering the city. You'd rather not be seen by everyone right away. A few minutes later, you hear the cacophony of people's chatter, metal hitting against metal at a workshop, the rustling of coins in bags, and you hear some voices speaking louder, as if they were trying to attract customers. All in all, you were sure that you've finally reached the heart of Snezhnaya, the city of Snezhnograd.

Chapter Text

The carriage eventually comes to a stop. Xu Feng, who had been sitting on his bench quietly the whole ride, takes a look through his window, then turns to you.

"We've arrived."

Your lips curl into a smile. Deep down, you're excited to see the city life right before you. It is inherently not very impressive, you tell yourself, but what interests you is the difference in culture and lifestyle that you have yet to experience. You're here on a mission, but you're not about to deprive yourself of the little joys in life here and there.

Xu Feng stepped out first and kept the door open. He held one hand open for you to take as you come out. You graciously accept his offer without a word, and carefully you go down the carriage steps. You let go once both your feet touch the ground. As you lift your face up, you see the hustle and bustle of city life unfold in front of you. The carriage had stopped in front of a hotel that's facing what appears to be a circular town square. There's a fully functional, and beautiful, glistening fountain in the middle.

A couple of people are playing accordions near it. There's singing and some 'hups,' and 4 pairs of people are dancing in the middle of the small, yet wide, crowd. Judging by their synchronized clapping and the occasional whistles, as well as the uniform outfits of the male and female dancers, you believe it to be a folk dance performance.

Your heart warms at the sight. The people have a love for their traditions, and they feel right at home. There's no sign of tension in these people or those around them, and so this harmony implies, to you, that these people do not feel oppressed in any way. You can feel the peace that these civilians live in.

Before you could take in the rest of the square, Xu Feng breaks you out of the trance you were in. "I've checked in. We may now head inside, if you'd like," he utters.

You only just now realize how smooth his voice is... You turn around and give him a nod. "Let's go."

～～～

Just like last time, you sent Xu Feng to investigate. However, now that your search scope has narrowed down to one city, you now know which branch the main office is at. All that's left now is the Regrator's work schedule. Instead of heading out as Lucas Hechler, the agent is at work as Xu Feng.

You surmised that, because there's the likelihood that the man is perceived as a national hero to many, especially to those at the heart of Snezhnograd, security might be tight on the premises. Ordinary individuals would not be able to provide Lucas with the intel, simply because they wouldn't know what the Harbinger's schedule looks like. A regular business owner would only be able to meet with the manager, at most. Only a handful would have the status to meet the man in person.

You don't expect Xu Feng to come back anytime soon since this might be a dangerous task for him. In order to pass the time, you go back outside to take in more of this city. By now, the sun is about to set. The sky is partially cloudy.

You turn your head towards the Palace's direction without a thought, only to feel your heart skip a beat. The colorful hues of the sunset paint the Zapolyarny Palace in pinks, oranges and yellows, as well as some whites and dark blues to reflect the coexistence of light and darkness in the sky. The magnificence of this national gem had stopped you in your tracks. You stare at its brilliance in awe. You can't help but wonder how such a structure was built hundreds of years ago.

You snap yourself out of it. You look down and remind yourself of the present. Much like in Novokitezhgrad, a mixture of salt and rocks were spread all over the streets in Snezhnograd to keep the snow in these areas melted. This allows the pedestrians to go around the city safely in the harsh conditions. You also hadn't noticed this earlier, but there are many Fatui soldiers  roaming the streets. You've heard about it before. The Fatui here are regarded as the military army of Snezhnaya. You assume the patrols are in order to keep civilians safe and to prevent store robberies and other crimes.

You get reminded of Xu Feng. You hadn't realized how secure the city is until now. You can only worry about him and whether he might get in danger. You try to remind yourself in an attempt to calm down that he was specifically picked by Yelan. You may not trust his abilities, but you can trust your own sister. There's not much you can do right now but to wait.

You've been walking around the streets watching the people go about their day as night begins to fall. The sky is still blue, but several shades darker now. Lights are turning on. You pass by colorful walls of buildings. Grocery shops, boutiques, souvenir shops and restaurants... You don't know where you're going, you have no particular destination in mind. You take a left turn, but before you do so, you make a mental note of which corner you turned. You read the name of one of the stores near you so that later when you want to go back, you'd know exactly where to go.

The further you go down this new path, the less populated it becomes. And yet, street lamps are lit up despite the emptiness. The path you took leads you to—what you believe to be—the southern edge of the city. A metallic handrail spans down the alley to the east. There's still a good distance between the city's edge and the edge of the mountain to ensure the people's safety. You cross your arms over the handrail and lean forward.

Drowsiness is slowly creeping its way into your system, now that you find yourself in a peaceful corner. The coat you bought a few days ago has been keeping you warm very well in this weather. You also bought a hat that went with the style which has been keeping your head and ears warm. You do have a scarf, but you didn't want to wear it above your nose. It simply wouldn't have aesthetically matched.

You rest your eyes for a bit and try not to fall asleep. You keep your consciousness awake and working. Only now did it occur to you that the wind has been getting stronger. Particles of snow like sand are getting blown into your face, which made you open your eyes.

The sky's gone dark, and the wind's picking up. Just as you were about to turn around and walk back to your hotel, a strong gust of wind blows your hat off. It lands right behind you. You close your eyes when snowflakes hit your face following the cold wind. You reopen them after a couple seconds, and the first thing you see is particles flying everywhere. You can't see the mountains on the other side anymore.

You twist around and bend down to pick up your hat. Just as you were standing back up, however, you feel your entire arm and shoulder collide with something hard, yet soft at the same time. You also heard a noise along with the collision, but you can't be too sure because of the wind. You try your best to look up without getting any snowflakes flying into your eyes. You can roughly make out a tall person's silhouette.

"Careful, now. Are you alright?"

A male. His voice is very smooth and masculine. The way he speaks sounds sophisticated. Is he of the wealthy population?

"I am fine... My apologies, I didn't mean to bump into you," you apologize as you try to match his tone.

You hear a chuckle from the throat. "I advise you to be on your way now. There will be a storm tonight."

Before you could say anything, you hear someone's voice, except you can't hear what he's mumbling. Whatever it was, it seemed to have changed this mystery man's mood. He sounds different, serious, as he sends out an order, "Return, now."

You couldn't even mutter a word or put together two puzzle pieces to understand what just happened. The man that you had bumped into storms off, as if you bumping into him had never happened. The other presence that you heard, the mumbler, was nowhere in sight. Despite the confusion, you waste no time. You remember to put the hat back on as you make your way back to your hotel hastily.

～～～

You luckily made it back in time before the wind got stronger. You did knock on Xu Feng's door to see if he had made it back, but the door never opened, so you went back to your room and waited there. You brewed yourself a warm cup of tea to drink with some local tea cakes made of chocolate that you had delivered to your room. The pastry is as good as you'd expected it to be.

It wasn't until an hour had gone by when you heard knocks on your door. You quickly stand up from your seat and look through the peephole. You can make out Xu Feng's familiar figure, so you open the door and let him in.

He looked disheveled. His hair poked in all directions, his coat's buttons had been undone, his scarf was crooked, and you can tell from his breathing that he had run to get here. The moment you opened the door, he rushed inside looking for something. After rummaging around for a minute, he pulls out a pen from a drawer and a notepad. He begins scribbling down some things. You had already closed and locked the door when he walked in, so now you're simply waiting for him to finish what he's doing.

A few second later, he places the pen down on the desk, tears the page from the notepad, and hands it to you. You look at it for a brief second before he catches your attention when he explains, "Those are the days and hours when he goes into office, and when he clocks out."

He memorized it?

"Did you run all the way back in this storm just to write it down before you forget?!" you ask in surprise.

He sheepishly looks down as he answers, "I had to sneak in and look through many files. I couldn't exactly find his schedule, but I managed to find a calendar where he annotates his schedule like an agenda."

You feel bad, impressed and grateful for the amount of effort he had put into this. Your eyes soften when you smile at him. "Good work. Take a well-deserved rest tonight."

His eyebrows furrow, however. You couldn't notice it earlier when he barged in, but this time he wasn't wearing his contacts. When his eyes had a soft look while he was flustered just a few seconds ago, that softness is now gone and replaced with... what you can only describe as danger. And then, he speaks cautiously, "There's one more thing." He takes a short moment to think about how he's gonna say the next words, then continues, "I had bypassed security to get in, but someone still saw me. I'm not sure if they're still looking for me right now. I took many turns to lose them. I'll have to stay on guard tonight."

You listened to him carefully as he explained. Your own eyebrows had furrowed when the gravity of the situation presented itself. Your eyes look down while you nod quietly. There's a moment of silence in the room while you think to yourself, though it only lasts for a few seconds.

Your eyes meet Xu Feng's dark ones once again. "Switch to Lucas Hechler for a while until the search meets a dead end. You can rest, now that I got his schedule. Did anyone see you come into the hotel?"

He shakes his head before replying, "No. As Xu Feng, I went out and back in from the window in my room."

You look towards your window. You hadn't realized that there was a blizzard that had started until now. You face the agent and infer, "The low visibility of the weather might have helped you lose them. I don't think anyone would've noticed you climbing up to the window."

It is past midnight, so most people should be asleep. You're willing to make a bet that no one saw him on his way here. Both of you know that the chance of discovery is slim, but not zero. You can only say that your empathy is clouding your judgement in this moment, just so he could have a good rest for the night. You want to reprimand that empathetic part of you, but you've learned that doing so would eliminate the humanity in you. You want to stop seeing it as a sign of weakness, but rather as a natural trait that doesn't deserve any punishment, for it is inherently innocent.

Your internal debate forces a sigh out of you.

Xu Feng confuses this sigh with a sign of disapproval. He lowers his chin, places his palm over his chest and speaks in a hurry, "My apologies, my lady. I made a mistake. I will investigate more carefully next ti-"

"Don't worry about it."

He looks up and confusion is written all over his face, but at least he stopped apologizing.

"It already happened. Let it go. Focus on the more important things, like what we can do to avoid getting caught while we move forward."

The man straightens up. His palm still over his chest, he lowers his head anew, but this time with conviction. He articulates, "Yes, my lady."

With a small gesture of your hand, you signal him to leave. He takes the cue, and so he does just that. He makes sure your door closes well before he goes on his way to his room.

This was your way of showing kindness to others. You are well-aware that the common person would misunderstand the nature of your words and actions, but you've grown past caring for their opinions. To you, an apology for one's mistake is like begging to keep your faith in them, implying the wavering of said faith. Your faith in Xu Feng didn't waver. It never has, at least not so far. You won't sugarcoat the truth and say that his mistake isn't a problem, you acknowledge it. And there really is nothing more you can do about the past than to ensure a safer future, for both of you.

Tomorrow, you will finally set the plan in motion.

Chapter Text

You gathered every item you were going to need, aside from any weapons to reduce the risks, and that includes a Vision that you have never brought out. Irene wouldn't have one. More specifically, you put the forged IDs and documents in your bag, as well as the cheque which you have safely packed.

You and Xu Feng agreed on some things on how you will be more careful from now on. You will always have to assume that you're being followed by an enemy. Unless you're behind closed doors in your hotel room with your curtains drawn to hide yourself away from the outside world, you must always act as Irene Belleau would. Of the two of you, Xu Feng would be more at risk of being followed. Just like you had instructed, Xu Feng would need to lie low for the time being. Lucas Hechler will be on the field.

The only time Irene and Lucas were seen together was at Novokitezhgrad when you met two Snezhnayan gentlemen. Fortunately, you had approached the group the right way, now that you think about it. There's no reason why any businesswoman would want to walk around with a foreigner who's only here for sightseeing, unless they either knew each other in some way, or that one of them is interested in learning more about the other. You feigned the latter.

You're now in a different city, but you shouldn't eliminate the probability of this information reaching Snezhnograd. So, just in case, you came up with a new story: Irene and the foreigner had a one-night stand, and now she's dragging the man around as she likes. If no one ever brings up both names in the same sentence, then nothing about it will ever be said. For now, you two are unaffiliated with one another.

Snow had piled up from the blizzard last night. You noticed there were a few people with mechanical instruments that had been cleaning up the roads. Store employees used shovels to push the snow away from their buildings, hoping to get customers that way. As if it were nature's apology for the night before, the sky is clear and the sun is completely visible now. The brightness of pure snow reflected the sunlight. You raised your hand in front of you to protect your eyes.

It only took you about 5 minutes to finally stand right in front of the enormous building of Northland Bank's main branch. You look at the name on top of the glass doors and windows, and recite the play you've prepared for the show. Inhale, exhale, relax, you're Irene Belleau.

Your eyes narrow naturally like a siren's. With it comes a smirk, and your chin lifts up. You take one step, then another, and another... And so has your walking changed, particularly your hip movement. The click of your heels then fades from outsiders' ears as the doors close behind you.

Right in front of you, you see the receptionist desk. Surprisingly, there's no line of people waiting their turn. In fact, you notice that other than a couple other people, the place seems rather empty. Regardless, you make your way to the counter. Behind it, there is a female receptionist wearing the famed Fatui mask. At least you know you're in the right place.

"Welcome to Northland Bank. How may I help?" she announces in a practiced voice with a bright expression.

"I'd like to open an account," you respond in a level voice.

She nods. "I will arrange a meeting for you with one of our representatives. May I have your name, please?"

"Irene Belleau."

She scribbles down some things on a note, then turns to you. "Please, have a seat. Someone will call for you shortly."

You only nod in return as she leaves. You turn around and see extravagant two-seated red velvet couches on one side of the room, with a rich brown-colored wooden coffee table in-between. As you sit in the middle of one of the couches, you notice how soft the seats are. They're not too soft, but not rock-hard either.

The walls are painted in a creamy color, which is complimented by the gold accents of the baseboard that runs across the walls a few feet above the ground. There are round half-pillars by the walls that also have gold designs on them. You look further away from your little area and notice there's a magnificient chandelier that hangs in the middle of room. You can tell it has real crystals because of the way it reflects light clearly. And, as it shines, you see some of the colors of the rainbow.

You already knew about the wealth that this bank has accumulated, but it doesn't stop you from growing impressed by the designs. It also leads to a psychological response, though. 'Trust in the wealth,' you hear them say. Merely another marketing strategy.

"Irene Belleau?"

You move your attention to a man that you assumed had called you just now. Once you stand up, you answer, "That would be me."

He smiles and walks closer to you once you had confirmed his guess. "Welcome. I'm Nikonov Sergeyevich, a representative here. Shall we talk in my office?"

Your smile widens, but not as Irene. "Yes."

He gestures with his hand the direction to his office before he guides you. He goes through a short hallway, then enters a small room filled with file drawers and documents. His desk is neat with a few personal items on it. Behind the seats by the desk, there's a small rest area with two black single sofas and a low wooden table. He closes the door behind you while you take a seat. He follows after behind the desk.

"I heard you're here to open a new bank account with us, is that correct?" he starts.

"That is correct," you affirm as you set your bag on the seat next to you. Then, you lean back on your chair and cross your legs. Your arms rest on your seat's armrests.

"Marvelous. I would need your proof of identity and address, if I may," he explains as he pulls out a document.

Still smiling, you turn your head to your bag and pull out the relevant items he requested. Without removing your back from your seat too much, you lean in just slightly to place the documents in front of him.

He takes note of your confident demeanor in general by now. He thanks you as you hand him the papers, and he begins to work. While he's busy with the documents, you scan the room in more detail.

This room should roughly measure four meters long and three meters wide. Although the wall's color is creamy, it doesn't have the same flair. The window and door follow the same architectural design, the only two ways you can tell that this place is still connected to the extravagant bank just by the looks of it. The floor is completely naked; there are no rugs to cover the brown wooden planks of the room. File drawers cover the walls behind the desk and next to it, with some potted plants to liven up the area. You won't turn around to look behind you, as Irene isn't actually that curious.

The sound of pages hitting a wooden surface draws your attention. The representative had collected the documents—safe for your proof of address and identity, which he had neatly put together in front of you—and now he's aligning them together on the desk, signaling that the work was done.

"Alright, we are almost done! To fully activate your account, we will need a deposit. Do you happen to have any Mora on you?" he asks, completely unaware of what's coming.

Your grin widens once more. As you reach for your bag, you lean forward and speak in a low voice, "I don't have Mora, but..." you place the cheque on the table and slide it towards him slowly. "I do have something else I want to deposit." Then, you lean back, arms on the armrests again, legs crossed anew.

The man lifts an eyebrow and with a curious look, he takes a peek at the cheque you put in front of him. The number of zeros on the line nearly made his eyeballs pop out. His body freezes in that moment.

"Th-This...!" he stutters. He struggles to keep his composure, but for the sake of professionalism, he clears his throat and states without shaking his voice, "If you'll excuse me for a moment... I'll need to run some checks. I will be back."

Still smiling, you give the employee a polite nod. With the cheque and documents in his hands, he walks out and closes the door before he leaves. Now that you're alone, you stand up from your seat and walk towards the window that's positioned opposite the door on the other wall. You stop in front of it with your arms crossed as you watch pedestrians walk by.

You tilt your head to the side while you watch, wondering how the next few minutes will go. You made sure to write a significant number on the cheque in order to pique the big boss' curiosity. It had to be an amount that no small business owner would have, but you also had to pick a number that would've been within your means.

Minutes pass. You take a peek at the clock in the room. It's been 9 minutes since the representative left to run some checks. You've been walking around in slow circles so that your feet would get some action instead of letting them settle into the uncomfortable heels. You had taken off your coat in the meantime. You turn around again for the nth time, but just then you hear the door click. You stop in your tracks and look up. It's the representative, and he came back empty-handed. You hide a smile.

"Ms. Belleau? My boss would like to meet you. He says it's to better accommodate you," he announces as he wears a warm, welcoming smile.

Your smile doesn't reach your eyes, but you still reply, pleased about this outcome, "Very well."

The man opens the door wide open for you while you walk to the seats and fetch your coat and bag. You place the coat on one arm while you carry your bag with your other free hand. Then, you let him guide you around the building a second time.

He leads you up a wide and glamorous staircase. A red carpet with gold edges covers the center of the flight. On the landing by the wall, there is a tall, long and thin table with a small flower pot on top. Your guide turns to the right, and you follow.

The second flight leads you to a wide hallway. At the end of it, there's a large ornate window that goes from floor to ceiling. Just next to it, you see two Fatui Pyro Agents that seem to stand on guard. More red carpet with gold edges were laid in the center of the hallway. Your guide walks all the way to the end, then stops in front of the big doors to your left. The Agents are standing guard right here.

The employee knocks three times before he opens the door to stick his head inside. He seems to be either exchanging words voicelessly, or nodding, but either way he pulls his head back out and steps back. With his hand still on the doorknob, he turns to you and softly he murmurs, "You may go in."

You simply nod and to that, he opens the door for you. Blinding white light from the windows is the first thing your eyes could see. You step inside, and without looking back, the door closes behind you. Now, you're left with whoever else was in this room.

"Please, have a seat."

Those few words were well-articulated. The silence in the room gave you the illusion that his voice was loud. It sounded mellow, yet eerily threatening.

You walk further into the room to take a seat. Soon enough, your eyes adjust to the light. In the middle of the room there are two red couches similar to the ones downstairs, but wider. In between there is a table made of crystal with gold motifs all over it. The designs seem to be placed between two layers of surface. The table legs were painted in gold. And just a little further, there's the desk, and the man behind it.

You sit down and place your coat and bag next to you. Then, you stare at the other couch in front of you. You lean back, legs are crossed, and your hands are interlocked over your knee. He stands up from his seat and walks around his desk to the couch you've been staring holes into. As he sits down, your eyes watch his movements, particularly in the hands.

He's been holding on to your documents, and cheque.

"I see here that your place of residence is in Fontaine. Is that correct?"

You watch him lean back with the sheets of paper in hand while his legs are crossed. You finally take a good look at him. He dons a black turtle-neck shirt with long sleeves and silver designs over the front, with black pants and shoes, as well as a pair of glasses with chains. He has a sharp jawline and a square chin. His eyes seem dark, but you can somewhat make out a purple hue in the iris. And finally, his jet black shoulder-length wavy hair that seems to contrast the paleness of his skin. You can also make out a streak of silver in the strand that goes over his left shoulder.

"That is correct."

Through the nose, he takes a deep breath, and then he slowly breathes out. His eyes that were trained on the page in front of him are now on you. "I do find it quite odd that a person such as yourself would open a bank account outside of their own nation. Is there any particular reason for that?"

Finally.

The corners of your lips turn up. "Fontaine, the nation of court and justice. With strict supervision all over the city, wouldn't you say any criminal activity would fail to go unnoticed?"

He narrows his eyes slightly. You only just noticed the cryptic smile; he's been wearing it the entire time. "I would say so, yes."

"Well, I happen to... bend the laws, a little bit. I am the owner of an Arkhium production company. The court only happens to have slightly different worldviews than I do," you explain. You stare intently at the man before you for any microexpression.

His lifts his head back just slightly when you finished, as if the dots in his head are connecting and that your explanation just connected the last ones. "A private Arkhium production company," he figures.

You don't reply, you only smile wider. As you had guessed, this man was indeed intelligent.

"I can see why you wish to deposit your cheque with us," he places the documents on the table and stands up. He continues as he makes his way back to his desk, "Fourty billion Mora is not any small number. The Maison Gardiennage of Fontaine would definitely be notified." He opens a drawer and takes out a pen and something else you can't see before closing it. "You made the right choice to come here."

"Glad we're on the same page," you comment.

He walks back to the couch without hurry. He sits, but this time he leans forward. With the pen still in hand, he pushes his glasses up from the bridge with his middle finger. He turns the document to the last page, and then he hovers the pen above the paper. In a second, he slides the tip across, black ink following its path, in lines and circles. He signs the document.

He lifts the pen from the sheet and lays it down on the table. He then pulls out the other item he had taken out of his drawer, which now becomes clear to you that it is a stamp. He takes off the lid and presses the stamp onto the paper next to his signature.

"There," he says as he leans back after setting aside the stamp next to the pen before continuing, "I will personally oversee the opening of your account for a much more... safer processing, for our new client. Thank you for choosing Northland Bank."

"Thank you very much for your help." Your expression remains unfaltering as you keep observing the man.

His eyes have been staring into yours. You can't tell what he's thinking, or whether he noticed your stare, but you try to appear impassive about it. He soon breaks the silence that had almost settled. "If I may..." he starts, emphasis on the if. "I do have one request, seeing as you are quite the capable person."

Oh?

"And that is?" you carefully ask.

"Would you, by any chance, be interested in investing in Northland Bank? You could hold a position as one of our shareholders by doing so."

Chapter Text

'Would you, by any chance, be interested in investing in Northland Bank? You could hold a position as one of our shareholders by doing so.'

Your tea has gone lukewarm. Over the past couple hours, that question ceaselessly repeated itself in your head. You had drawn your curtains apart so you could have something to look at while you drink your tea, but it isn't even halfway empty.

～～～

"Would you, by any chance, be interested in investing in Northland Bank? You could hold a position as one of our shareholders by doing so."

You nearly break out of character. This was not, in any shape or form, part of your plan. You need to think about this, but for now, you'll have to see what you can get out of him. Any information might be useful in your decision-making.

"Might I ask what is pushing you to propose this?" you articulate each word carefully.

It almost feels like a demon's sitting across from you instead of a man. His dark eyes seemed to gleam. You're not too sure anymore. Your attention is divided.

"We, as a bank, aim to improve our world economy, which is why we work towards opening a branch in every nation of Teyvat. We offer services that help both small and big business owners. With the help of professionals like you, I have no doubt we'll make the world a better place for everyone," he shares optimistically, with that ever-lasting cryptic smile.

You've got to admit, his reasoning could fool anyone. The only reason why you still have your reservation is because you had already expected him to be a calculating businessman. Maybe that's what your answer should be.

"I can sense your determination for this honorable purpose of yours. I'm thankful that you see me as a potential canditate as one of your shareholders, but I must respond truthfully. If it is alright, I'd like to think about this matter some more," you say with simple directness.

His eyes slightly narrow. Even though you feel like his grin couldn't get any wider, it's almost as if he did just that when his eyelids partially closed. "Of course. Please do consider it, we would love to have you on board," he persists.

～～～

You can't tell what he's thinking.

You can't tell what he's planning.

On one hand, it's almost as if opportunity had just presented itself to you. If you become a shareholder, you could have numerous excuses to meet with him. And, to you, the more meetings you have, the better chance you have to learn about the bracelet's location. On the other hand, becoming a shareholder was not part of your plans. If you do accept the offer, you would be entering unfamiliar territory with zero preparation. If one thing goes wrong, the whole mission could fail.

And then there's the other problem: you don't know what he's thinking at all. There's no evidence of his wrongdoings, but you know they're there somewhere. You feel like you should be able to see the catch in his actions, but no matter how many times you recite the facts, you don't see it at all.

The part that puzzles you the most is the clients' responses. Aside from suspicious malpractice of debt collection, his ideas on how to help people have... actually helped. You admit that the people who fall into debt probably should've been more cautious, regardless of whether the rumors are true, but they would've suffered anyway without Northland Bank's interference. So, ultimately, aside from suspicious activities as debt collectors, nothing else seems out of place.

You raise the cup to your lips to take a sip. The cold liquid touches your upper lip as you swallow it. You end up drinking it all in one go instead, since it was no longer warm or lukewarm. The astringent herbal flavor of the black tea doesn't go unnoticed in your throat as it goes down.

It's not like you're inexperienced. Countless times you had to change your course of action because of one variable you hadn't accounted for. This is one of those times. You did have to take a path you hadn't planned to take, and sometimes you did it successfully, but you also stumbled some other times. This is a highly risky mission, so you need to be careful and not trip.

Your mind conjures up a thought on the spot. Your eyebrows knit together.

Is money really all that he's after, by offering you the position? Or did he notice your lies?

Is he pretending to make an offer, when in reality, he intends to keep a close eye on you?

Has he caught on?

～～～

Warm ambient lights illuminate every area of the office room. He sits behind the desk where he had been working on processing a big cheque he'd gotten his hands on in the afternoon, resulting in him working overtime. Normally he'd be out of the edifice before sunset. Now that the city's asleep, all he can do is wait. He could have left earlier, since his work was done hours ago. This office works as a second office room, the first one being in his mansion. Where he is doesn't matter to him. This building belongs to him.

He'd spent the last couple hours thinking, or plotting. He glances out the window behind him. The sky barely had any light left to cast down to the city. A handful of minutes later, and it would fully become pitch black.

He turns back to the sheet of paper that laid on his desk and holds it in front of him. His eyes scan the words line by line, until he reaches the bottom of the page.

As he stands up, without removing his focus from the page, he orders, "Prepare the carriage."

From behind closed doors, the muffled synchronization of a "Yes, sir" could be heard.

He had walked to one of the file drawers on one side of the room. He opens a drawer, then places the paper he had been holding inside. Before he slides the compartment shut, he gives one last look at the top of the page.

'Irene Belleau.’

Behind closed doors, the man does not smile. He, too, is a performer.

～～～

You can't shake off the feeling that you're missing something hidden in plain sight.

Xu Feng had gone out as Lucas Hechler to survey the vicinity and learn more about the stores around here, or any tourist hotspots. To make his act believable, you gave him an allowance for shopping. He can keep the stuff he buys once the mission's over. To you, that money is an advance payment for any potentially valuable clues that Lucas would buy from nearby shop owners. It is worth it.

You're almost certain that the majority of people here are Northland Bank clients. Learning about the stores' histories could tell a thing or two about the direction the bank has been taking, and maybe that would give you some insight into where it's headed.

You did consider looking for a history book, but often times these books wouldn't consider details of real world events. They tend to generalize them into summaries. Eventually, only the living people could tell you how life was really like at the time. Let alone the possibility that events from, say, 5 years ago might not even be written yet. Still, there's a chance that something could serve as a clue. The flow and distribution of money can tell quite a lot when correlated with major historical events. Maybe you'll get Xu Feng to look into that as well.

All thoughts abruptly come to a stop and your body freezes.

Why are you so obsessed with this?

You had to remind yourself why you're here. You only want one thing and one thing only: the bracelet. History or politics, none of that matters.

A pang of guilt takes over you. You sent Xu Feng to investigate for nothing.

A sigh escapes your lips as you bury your face into your hands. You stay in that position. The pressure of your palms on your skin is your only reminder of your goal.

With no other better option, you decide, you will take on the offer to invest and become a shareholder, if this will bring you any closer to the bracelet.

～～～

You take a couple days to come up with a new plan: you'll play the role of a shareholder in a genuine fashion. In order to do that, you'll have to come up with ingenious ideas that would work in the Regrator's favor so that you could gain his trust. And that is why you have a stack of business and marketing books on your table.

When one reaches a certain level of pattern recognition, they begin to realize that every system in the world runs on the same formula of variables. Whether it's the human heart or business, they all follow the same rule: the goal must always be desirable for the person. It only gets tricky when desire becomes subjective, even more so when undesirable things become part of the situation, and this is where one asks the question of what is good versus what is bad, a common question in philosophy. But that is also based on its own predictable pattern. It's like a math equation where, if the variables are identified, you can begin the process to uncover the truth.

That's exactly how the human heart functions. People can be predictable, and it only takes one person to know where they need to look for the variables. Often times, reading people can be rather easy to the point where one more person to the bunch makes it a routine. In the case of a group of businessmen, it's easy to assume that gaining money is their top goal.

You acknowledge the fact that you have no evidence of any of the Regrator's suspicious activities as a businessman, so you'll assume, in this scenario, that his goal is just that. You can back up the statement with his bank's achievements. As long as you have a plan that follows that equation, then you'll remain under the radar.

That is one of your rules as an agent.

～～～

A black knee-length sheath dress with long sleeves, a simple gold chain necklace, dangling gold earrings with diamonds, black stockings, a pair of color-matching boots with heels, a long black coat, a black handbag, and then finally to top it all off, spritzes of the eau de parfum Désirée by Emilie. Everything you wear will, from now on, become calculated decisions.

Chapter Text

His POV

Eyes scan the top of people's heads as they walk by the establishment on the dark, wet-looking cobblestone of the streets, each one being no less valuable than the other in terms of monetary value.

Behind him, the doors open after two soft knocks. He hadn't had the need to give the order. This was the mutual understanding between a boss and his subordinate.

"My Lord," the man greets. A second later, clothes rustle with a soft thud on the fabrics.

The Harbinger Pantalone already has his guesses without turning around. His eyes sharpen in response as he keeps his back turned to the room, though it goes unnoticed. "Nothing?"

Clothes rustle in two brief consecutive instances. "I'm sorry. We lost track of him," his voice remains emotionless.

But that seemed to have the opposite effect on him. A deep chuckle rumbles from his throat almost sadistically as if he were deeply amused. "In the very middle of Snezhnaya's heart, against a nation's army, a single spy manages to escape our grasp..." he grins. "How interesting."

No response. Not that it mattered.

His eyes narrow as he focuses once more on the moving shapes on the cold dark slate down below. He muses to himself, "Interesting things have been happening in the city lately..."

His attention lands on a familiar face nearing the front doors of the building.

"Very interesting..." His smirk widens.

Standing in place, he takes a deep breath, then exhales. He is nowhere near stressed. In fact, he needs to hold in his fascination for the recent happenings, for he's about to get back on the stage. With that cryptic smile of his, he announces, "Leave, and keep searching. I have a business meeting in a few." 

"Yes, my Lord."

He doesn't turn around until he's alone in the room. He sits down behind his desk and holds a flipped document in his hand. With his legs crossed, the man begins reading the words before him.

It only took about 2 minutes to hear knocks on the door again, only this time they sound different. Louder and more purposeful.

In a flash, his face bears the expression he'd worn the last time he met this visitor. "Come in."

Click. He looks up.

The door swings open, revealing a woman clad in black. From her appearance to her posture, she seemed just about ready for a fruitful conversation, something that he'd been looking forward to for the past few days.

His face beams. He rises, setting whatever he was holding back on the table, and excitedly he welcomes her, "Ah, it is great to see you again. I see you've been well."

He walks around the desk to sit on the same couch as last time. As he lowers himself, he gestures with his hand to the other couch, inviting her to sit with him. She doesn't hesitate to accept it.

"I have been. Hello to you, as well," she responds. She takes her coat off and places it next to her along with her bag.

His eyes close as he smiles abashed. "Forgive me, I forgot to ask you for your name last time..."

"No problem. The name's Irene Belleau, though I would've expected you to know that by know, seeing as my name was on the document you were holding previously..." she points out as she sits straight.

He lets out a small puff of air, almost making it a chuckle. His eyes open. "I am terrible with names, you see."

She hums in thought. "It happens."

"Just so," he says with a deep raspy voice, while he takes a moment to observe every detail that went into her look. The fabrics, the metals, to even looking for any speck of dust that might linger on the black cloth. Posh. "Am I right to believe that you come bearing news about what we discussed?" He brings his attention back to the present, his voice going back to normal.

"In fact, I am."

"So? What have you decided?"

"I accept your offer. I'll buy thirty percent of the shares," she announces.

His eyes go wide. He can feel his heart thrumming in his chest, and he can feel the pounding get harder by the beat.

'Restrain yourself.'

His usual, controlled face returns. "My, you surprise me. Pleasantly, at that."

The muscles around her eyes contract as she smiles. "Well, what can I say? People like us find business opportunities enjoyable, after all."

"How right you are," he chuckles. "Thirty percent will roughly cost a few billions. Are you sure about this?"

"Positive," she replies with an air of determination, her eyes unwavering.

He stares into her eyes, looking for any sign of hesitation. When he finds nothing but the fire that fuels her confidence, his lips curl into a smile. "I will prepare the contract, then."

He gets up and returns to his desk. He had considered the possibility that she would come back and accept his offer to become a shareholder, so he already prepared the documents for it. Processing the cheque didn't take that long. This was the reason why he had worked overtime. He does have people who could do the work for him, but he wanted this to go without a hitch. What better way than to do it himself?

He returns to the couch with a few items. As he does so, he remembers something and exclaims, "Ah! This reminds me. Your cheque has been processed into your new bank account successfully. If you wish to make the purchase of your shares with your funds, you may do so."

"We haven't discussed how much it costs yet," she points out expressionlessly. She does lift her eyebrow, however.

He chuckles some more. "Very soon, we will."

After a few minutes of scribbling on a notepad and handling an instrument, he writes down a number on the document, the contract, on a blank underlined space. He then lifts it and turns it around in her direction.

As she holds the stack of paper and eyes it, he retracts his hand and explains, "The total is as written before you, amounting to roughly thirty-five billion Mora. You may receive quarterly dividends starting from five hundred million Mora. Depending on the bank's future performance, your dividends may increase."

She remains quiet, her face inexpressive. She takes a moment to carefully read the clauses that take up several pages.

While the woman takes her time, the man watches her eyes move left and right through her black eyelashes. The smell of her perfume had finally reached his nose. He can make out the scent of jasmine and orange blossom among other things, with a warm base of musk and sandalwood, an overall pleasant mix to his senses. Her hair had been carefully maintained and casually styled for the day, and her make up is very light, yet enough to make her eyes look sharper like a knife. Someone of her standards would keep her cards close to her chest, that much he's certain. And now, he wonders what it is that she's keeping so close to her.

Recent events made him come up with a guess. Everything had been fine and consistent a week ago, until he'd heard from an agent that there was a break-in as he was taking a walk at night.

Apparently, one of the employees was on their way to drop a file on his desk. When he oppened the door, he saw a man in black looking through his desk. Agents followed after him out the window. When they later investigated the scene to look for clues, they realized that nothing was stolen, which only complicated the case. And there was no clue.

It wasn't a thief, that much was clear. Were they after an item, or information? If they were here on political business, the most likely person to get attacked would be the mayor, unless whoever's behind this operation is smarter than that. A nation's bank can indirectly incite political reforms, he would know. But the problem with this theory is that in order to set this plan in motion, Northland Bank would have to cease all operations. As long as clients keep coming, and as long as he's profiting, operations will not stop. That break-in did not cause any of that.

Very coincidentally, though, the day after the break-in, somebody made their way to the bank to open an account and deposit a big cheque. There is no evidence that these two events are linked, but he won't eliminate the possibility. He also doesn't know if the intruder got what they were looking for, or if they failed. So, in the case that the break-in and the person in front of him right now are related, he wants to know what it is that they are after.

Eyes still on hers, his smirk grows wider, fascinated by the enigma that is sitting before him.

"I finished reading," she states, looking up and returning his gaze.

His eyes remain still. "What do you think?"

"Everything looks fine, though I do have to add something to the clauses."

"Of course. Please." He leans forward to pick up the pen on the table and hands it to her.

She takes the pen from him, but instead of writing anything, she explains first, "On the event of my death, I want all my shares to go to the owner of Bubu Pharmacy at Liyue Harbor."

Oh?

"That is quite the peculiar request... Do you not wish for your shares to get transferred to your family in Fontaine, or perhaps the people in need at... what was it?" It only takes him a second to remember. "Ah! Fleuve Cendre, is that it? I once heard the people there are just barely getting by."

She simply smiles. "They're still getting by. I'm not concerned with them. I don't have a family, either."

His curiosity's piqued. "Then, why does Bubu Pharmacy matter to you?"

Her face remains impassive, other than the forced smile she wears for the sake of professionalism. "I don't see why I should explain it to you for this contract, but fine. Once, I visited Liyue for business, but my ride got ambushed by treasure hoarders. I was gravely wounded, but a passerby found me and took me to the pharmacy where I met the owner.

"It took me a while to get better. So, during the time I stayed there to receive care, I'd learned that medicines with prescriptions don't cost a lot, which had me curious. Turns out the pharmacy gets most of its revenue from selling to the rich with exorbitant prices, so that the common folk wouldn't feel pressured by the bills. I would know," she chuckles. "I find that business practice bold, yet admirable and chivalrous."

Deep down, under many layers of facade, his pride is wounded. The man inadvertently compared himself to this other business owner who's receiving praises for how he operates. He's aware of this feeling, but he doesn't allow his face to flinch. The strength of his fingers on his knees, however, tell a different story.

He maintains his composure, and carefully, without any venom spilling out, he replies with closed eyes, "I see. And, you are right, I was merely asking out of my own curiosity, but thank you for sharing." He reopens his eyes before continuing, "That clause is fine by me. You may write it on the empty space here."

The man leans forward to flip a few pages while the document rests in her hands. He stops at a page half-full with texts where the last clauses are written. The bottom half of the page is empty, providing enough space to add a few more by either party.

He leans back on the couch and observes. She places the document down on the table and finally picks up the pen to write.

After writing a few lines, she puts the pen down and hands him the document for him to review. He takes it from her and reads the added clause:

'Upon the death of Shareholder Party B, Party A shall be obligated to have Party B's shares appraised by a qualified independent appraiser. Thereafter, all shares must be sold, and all proceeds shall be transferred to Bubu Pharmacy of Liyue Harbor in equal installments over a period not exceeding five years from the date of death.'

"I will approve it. Now, if I may, I will ask you to write your address so that we may deliver mails regarding shareholder meetings," he says as he flips the pages again. He then hands it back to her.

She fills in the blanks, and then puts the pen back down when she's done. "I'll be in Snezhnaya for the time being. Is there any need for me to write down my current location of residence?"

He would smile at that if he wasn't already. "There's no need for that. I will explain why very soon."

With a quizzical look, she nods to herself. "Alright."

He sits up straight. "All that is left now is to sign the contract, unless you have anything else to add?" Alluding to the clauses.

"No, I'm ready."

"Very well."

The woman flips the page to one of the last few ones, picks up the pen and signs. He signs the contract after her below her signature. He flips the document to the first page and neatly places it on the table next to the other items and stands up. She follows suit.

"On behalf of Northland Bank, it is a pleasure doing business with you," he states with an extended hand. "We are glad to have you on board."

She extends hers and shakes hands with him. "Likewise. You may take the payment from my bank account here, and deposit all the dividends as well." She retracts her hand. So does he.

"Sounds good. You received your card from the receptionist, yes?"

He picks up the document from the table and stands straight again when she replies.

"I did, yes."

He widens his smile, appearing relieved that it had been delivered to her safely at the front desk. He walks to the left side of the room—from the door—to a machine. He places the document in it and closes the lid. With the press of a button, the machine begins roaring mechanical noises.

Appearing as if he's waiting, he strolls back to her with his hands behind his back. "As for why there is no need for you to give us your current place of residence in Snezhnaya, as I doubt you would stay for a whole year, the reason is because we're about to hold one in a week from now."

A silent 'oh' escapes her lips.

"Does that mean I am invited to attend the meeting?"

He nods. "That is correct. The meeting will take place right here in the room across from mine," he specifies as he lifts his chin in the direction of the room on his right. "On the 20th of this month, from 1 in the afternoon till 5 at the latest."

She listened attentively, like she's making an effort to memorize his words.

The machine makes a 'beep,' signaling that it has finished its task. This attracts the man's attention, and so he makes his way back. He lifts the lid and takes out the document, as well as a new stack of paper. He places them on top of the document to hold them with one hand, and closes the machine with the other. His feet take him back to the couch to sit, and then he separates the stack.

He can see from his peripheral vision when she sits back to watch what he's doing, so he explains, "I made a copy of this document, so that you'd have one for yourself as well."

"That's gracious of you."

"It is merely procedure. We value our clients' trust, and this is our way to show it," he says melodiously as he keeps his lips curled up. He holds the stack to align the sheets on the table.

"Of course." Her voice remains monotone.

He then takes one of the items on the table and brings it up to the top left corner of the stack, and staples them together. After putting it back down, he swiftly turns the page to the signatures to stamp the space next to them. He repeats the motion with the original document.

"All done," he announces. He closes the copied document, and places it in front of her.

Her hands reach out to hold the copy in front of her. Her eyes very briefly go over the top page, and the corner of her lips turn up. She looks back to him and, with a big smile, she says, "You've been most helpful, thank you very much for everything. If I find anything interesting, I'll bring it to you as a gift."

A delightful chuckle rumbles through him. "Please, there is no need. But, should you ever do so, I will politely accept it. I simply could not let your efforts go to waste," he rejoices.

She places the copy of the document in her bag, and then picks it up along with her coat. Her face still lit up, she stands up and tells him, "I will get going now then, but before I do..."

He had gotten up with her, and now he waits for her to finish.

"Yes?"

She looks straight into his eyes. "I never got your name. How should I call you when I address you?"

He looks right back at her.

"You may call me Pantalone."

Chapter Text

You sigh.

While laying down on the bed, you're looking at the map again, but this time with the stores marked on it. You can't exactly plan a trip to a neighboring city like Novokitezhgrad, since you only have about 8 days before the meeting, minus the time it takes to get ready. So that probably leaves you at around 7 days, rather. You'd probably only have one full day to look around before you pack your stuff and come back. There's no point in that.

You were hoping to learn more about this nation during the time you stay here, especially now since you have nothing else to do for the next few days. You also wanted to use the excuse of seeing him again under the pretense of gift-giving, which has lead you to look at the map.

And it gets even harder to decide when you know he has the money to buy whatever he wants.

Frustrated, you sigh and drop your hands by your sides on the bed. The map gets slightly crumpled under the pressure of your hand, but right now, it doesn't bother you. You're bothered with something much greater. Not knowing where to look anymore, you stare at the white ceiling above you, illuminated by bright natural sunlight.

You wish someone could tell you what to do. Your mind wanders to Yelan. You wish she could give you some pointers like she always did, but you know she couldn't, and your heart sinks at the realization. You're on the other side of Teyvat.

You instead think about how she operates her missions instead. When your sister gets a new case, she sends out informants to gather intel for her, and then she decides how, when and where to take action. Whether she would dress up, choose a different identity, spy on their operations, lure the criminals out... Your brain makes leaps of logic in less than a second until finally, an idea pops into your head. Your eyes go wide.

You leap out of bed and, in a hurry, you wear your slippers before sprinting out of the room without a care for the strands of hair that land on your face. A few doors down, you reach Xu Feng's room and rapidly knock on the door a few times. It didn't even take 5 seconds for him to open the door. Before he could say anything, with his mouth left open, you barge into the room in a totally different headspace.

"I've got an idea," you announce.

Eyes still wide, you walked in and stared at anything absentmindedly while your forearms stick out in front of you with open hands, as if you were holding something only visible to you.

"How may I help?" the man asks meekly, as if afraid of accidentally detonating a bomb by the press of the wrong button.

"I've got an idea," you repeat. "I'll need you to look into his schedule again, but this time to see what he's got planned for the next 7 days. Anything," you turn back to him wide-eyed, like you'd just been shown a prophecy. With every pause in your words, you take one step closer to him. "Whether it's work, whether it's at home, whether it's outside, anything. I need you to get that for me." You place your hands on his shoulders with a bit of force, which startles him. "Can you do it?"

His mouth is still wide open, but now both of his eyebrows are raised and pulled together. "U-Uh..."

You wait.

He lowers his eyebrow, appearing slightly more composed, and then turns his head to look out the window. It's probably around 3 pm, if he had to guess.

He turns his head back to her with a determined gaze, then gives her a nod before he responds, "I can."

Your face brightens up, but just barely. You're still under the shock of your new idea. "Good. Now get going," you slap one shoulder twice before you lower both hands to your sides. You then make your way back to your room. You hadn't noticed he had closed his door when you entered.

Once you return to your room, on the bed, you lay on your back with your legs crossed and arms sprawled out. Any worry you had earlier got quickly replaced by a calmness that spread through your body. In fact, you could say you're even a tad excited. You can't get rid of the grin on your face.

You don't understand why you didn't think of it sooner, and it's such a simple idea, too. You don't need excuses when you could simply show up in the same space at the same time randomly. You trust Xu Feng to get the information for you, especially considering the last time he'd gone out and apologized for his mistake. You're not concerned with that. If anything, you're probably more concerned about keeping your heart in check in this moment.

～～～

A visit to the Great Experimentation and Research Laboratory on Wednesday, a meeting with an important client at work on Thursday, visit the Zapolyarny Palace on Friday, staying at home on the weekends doing who knows what, visiting Stolichnaya Bar on Monday, and then another meeting with a client on Tuesday.

Very easily, you pick Monday. An accidental encounter at Stolichnaya Bar wouldn't be suspicious since you're playing the role of someone who came for business with some sightseeing. You just have to be there before him.

Xu Feng had not only brought information on his agenda, but also his address in case you ever needed it. Out of curiosity, you had checked the map to look for it. It doesn't come to you as a shock when you find out that his place isn't on the outskirts, so you expand your search and look inside the city. There's a high chance that the elevated counterpart may be home to the affluent neighborhood of Snezhnograd because of its closeness to the Palace, or in other words, the Tsaritsa, so you start searching there.

It didn't take you long to find it. The huge building is located not too far from the City Hall, but still some distances away. As you'd expect of a wealthy homeowner, the mansion comes with a somewhat large property around it. It comes with a paved road stretching from the nearby street—probably with a guarded gate—to the establishment. You can't make much else out of this map, since the finer details aren't included. But, judging from how his office room at Northland Bank is decorated, you're under the impression that the mansion's overall design would be similar.

You make a mental note of the location. You don't put any notes on the map, in case someone sees it. So instead, you look into Stolichnaya Bar. Along with the business and marketing books, you bought a travel book that could help you understand the city's history better. It makes a mention of all the notable places that have been around for at least the past 3 years, so this is a pretty new edition.

It doesn't take too much page flipping to find what you're looking for. On the left, there's the text, and on the right there are two images of the bar. One is from the outside, the other is from the inside. The exterior doesn't look very eye-catching, but the interior seems high-class. Stools with leathered seats surround an oval-shaped counter where the bartender would be, and from the image you can make out pairs of sofas with tables in the back. The lighting is warm and dim with red and black walls.

You read the text on the side that basically covers the history on how this place came to be, what it does, and what it aims to achieve. In short, this bar was founded not too long ago, maybe around 10 years ago, in fact, and it had undergone major upgrades as time went on to become what it is today. They serve a range of drinks native to Snezhnaya, in which all of them are imported from Novokitezhgrad, which is known for its liquor. As for the bar's goal, it aims to provide locals and tourists an opportunity to experience Snezhnaya's true culture and traditions with the finest drinks. At least, that's what it says on paper.

It looks fancy enough for someone like him to go and meet a client there. You didn't think he'd be the type to have a drink, but looks can be deceiving. You'd know.

You still have 6 days, so before then, you decide to look around the stores and perhaps do a bit of shopping.

～～～

These past few days, you bought many things. You would probably need a second luggage for them. But instead of only focusing on the clothes, you also looked into jewelry. Gold, silver, trishiraite, jade... and some local gems like the charoite, emerald, and most importantly, alexandrite. The price of that gemstone shocked you, not because of it being expensive, but because of how rare it looked.

The jeweler proudly explained that this gem is considered to be one of the most valuable and rarest gemstones in all of Teyvat, which raises its value in the market. What makes it so expensive is, aside from its rarity, its brilliance and rich color, but mostly its color-changing property. This, just like all the liquor, originates from Novokitezhgrad.

By now, you're familiar with the surrounding areas of the hotel and the square. Some people have come to recognize your face whenever you walk by, and they would greet you with a smile. It wasn't part of your plan, but it doesn't pose any problems for you, so you're not worried about it. Their hospitality is actually very heartwarming, you find.

One of the stores that intrigued you was the souvenir shop, where they sell anything tied to local traditions in several shapes, like wall hangings, peculiar toys, trinkets, as well as ceramic sculptures among other items. The sculptures were... either similar to one another, or confusing.

There were many colorful figurines, and the one that seemed less colorful was that of a wealthy-looking man, judging by his suit while he's holding a goblet, and hidden behind him on the floor is a sickle. You didn't know what to make of it, other than it symbolizing the wealthy man's dominion over the poor that happened to be the farmers, the usual story of the wealthy versus the poor.

Other than that, you'd spent your time on enjoying delicacies and watching street performances. Sometimes there were dancers, other times there were musicians only. You'd find them not only at the square, but also on populated streets near boutiques. Horse carriages would pass through, people in colorful coats would cross the dark and wet street, and on the sidewalk against the empty wall between shops is where the musicians would sit as they complemented the busy streets with melodious tunes.

The daily life of a local Snezhnayan is not too different from that of the regular person from Liyue by essence. What mostly draws the line between the two is the distinct set of beliefs. Which colors are meant to be more common in clothes, which design patterns are meant to be found on fabrics, what architecture style depicts what in particular, which food is most convenient... And of course, there's traditions, but that's more obvious.

You'd learned that, in this bleak white land, the people traditionally like to color this blank canvas in many colors just so that the people can feel life, whether they're distant travelers who only just found the place, or their own neighbors. For the latter, it serves more as a reminder that they are not alone in this otherwise cold and desolate world. No one in Liyue would've ever considered such concept, for there is no reason to prompt it in the first place.

This didn't come from your own deductions, but rather, it comes from a very old woman who wore the most purest and brightest smile, such that receiving her kindness is enough to bring you to tears when you listen to her. You'd feel a tug on your chest that would pull you down to get closer to her, so you could hold her warm wrinkled hands in your own, smoother, ones. You couldn't be Irene. Although you did give her the name, you couldn't act the part. Your humanity wouldn't have let you, or else it would have punished you with an unforgivable sin that would've weighed on your conscience and heart.

She happened to be at a family-run bakery that her granddaughter owned. The name of the former is Olya, and the latter Elena. The mother died during childbirth, so it was mostly Olya who raised Elena, since the men in the family all joined the Fatui. Olya had taught the young woman their traditional baking techniques, which is what makes the bakery special.

Before you left, Olya had given you a few extra pastries for free, and her reason is that most of the time when they close the bakery for the day, they have leftovers. So giving these away wouldn't let them go to waste. You tried refusing the kind offer, but her explanation had you accept it in the end. You intend to come back someday in the future to return the favor.

Chapter Text

At the corner of the street, Xu Feng, as Lucas, busied himself with a map under a store's roof overhang while he kept an eye out for the target. You were stationed just on the other side of your corner to avoid being on the same street, but to also avoid the cold winds.

You stare down. Between the pinch of your thumb and index, you held one end of a folded piece of blank paper. Your agent proposed an idea you didn't quite understand the mechanics of, but supposedly it would work, according to him. All you had to do was wait. If the paper unfolds itself, that would be Xu Feng's signal.

You wanted to time it right. You didn't want to linger around at the bar as you wait for Pantalone to make his appearance. At this time when the sun's almost set, there are too many pairs of eyes that could be watching you if you look out of place.

You already have an ideal scenario in mind, which is why the timing is crucial. You're a tourist visiting Snezhnaya for the first time, so obviously you wouldn't be knowledgeable about the drinks. You try to make a selection, but you need an expert to recommend you the right thing according to your tastebuds. Sure there's the bartender, but if the situation calls for it, why not seek out the expertise of a connoisseur? He had to be one.

The paper unfolds. Your eyes shoot up.

You hide the small piece in your coat's pocket before you turn the corner and enter the bar. The moment you step in, you can feel the comfortable warmth of the room set on your skin through the layers of clothes. Along with it came a whiff of alcohol.

You make your way to the bar counter as you unbutton your coat. Meanwhile, you take note of the people around who're sitting, relaxing, chatting and drinking. The place seems almost full, with free seats here and there. When you sit on one of the stools, you take off your coat and put it on the stool next to you, your next battle armor now in view.

You're wearing an emerald green halter dress that reaches your ankles with a slit on the side. Underneath, you're wearing a pantyhose that helps keep your lower body warm a little, while giving the illusion of a thin see-through fabric on the skin. The dress has a few gold designs near the top, so for earrings, bracelet and ring, you're wearing gold with emeralds. Because the dress goes around the neck, you didn't wear any necklace. Your hair's parted on the side to give it a voluminous look with loose curls. As for the final touch, a fragrant mix of jasmine, rose, mandarin, sandalwood and musk. Your eyes look exceptionally sharp and captivating tonight.

"Welcome! Can I get you anything?" the bartender warmly greets you with a smile. You return the gesture.

"Do you have a menu?" you ask.

"Of course! One moment." He goes over to the other side of the bar and comes back with a small single-fold menu. "Please, take your time. I will be here if you need me," he offers as he hands it to you. You simply nod before he turns away.

You lower your gaze to look at the words. Your back is facing the door, so you can't see if anyone walks in. However, you do keep your focus on the sound of it opening. In the meantime though, you read the menu. Fortunately for you, you have genuinely no idea how any of these drinks taste like. 'Looks like I do need a recommendation,' you think to yourself.

You feel a breeze of cool air touch your arms and back, and for a brief moment, you hear the city life. The door had opened. As for whether it was opened by your target tonight, however...

From the corner of your eye, you can see whoever it is sit next to you. Just then, the door opened again. Now you're wondering if your target is the man next to you, or the one that just entered. You can't look up, either. There's only one way you could, but you'd have to risk your original plan.

"Bartender?" you call out.

The man back comes swiftly upon your call. "Yes! You called for me, madam?"

Dejected, you sigh, "I don't know what to get, so I'll just have a glass of water."

"Ah, would you like me to recommend you something?"

"No, just water is fine."

He bows. "Right away, madam." He takes the menu before walking away.

You wear an unimpressed expression as you turn to look behind you. You try to appear as if you're looking aimlessly by moving your focus on anyone back there, when you're actually trying to see if you could find your target.

A man in orange hat, a woman, a man in red coat, short hair, bearded man, orange hair, not tall enough, another woman, short hair again, old...

You thus deduce that your target wasn't behind you. 'Then, that must mean...'

You keep up the act and sigh once again as you turn back around. You stop when you noticed the familiar face next to you, who still seemed unaware of your presence. You hold in your smile of victory.

"Well, well, if it isn't my savior from last week!" you start enthusiastically.

The man's body had already been slightly turned in your direction, which made catching his attention easier for you. When his dark eyes land on you, there's a flash of something you can't describe. It left as soon as it came, and now you question whether or not you were seeing things.

"Ms. Belleau, was it? What a coincidence," he says with a warm chuckle.

You were open to part your matte red lips and reply, but your glass of water gets slid towards you across the counter by the bartender, with a quiet 'here you go'. You shift your focus onto him and give him a quick small nod to thank him.

"Only water?" he wondered out loud as he watched you grab the highball glass from the top before shifting his focus back on your face.

You let out a small sigh with your head tilted, eyes trained on the condensated water droplets on the glass. "It's my first time visiting a bar with Snezhnayan drinks. I didn't know what to pick, so I resorted to getting myself a glass of water instead."

He doesn't respond. You set the glass back down, fingers remaining on the glass, and appear unimpressed again when you look up to the bottles of liquor displayed on the back bar.

"Luka, prepare the one with the petal, please."

"Right away."

You hum questioningly with a raised eyebrow and turn back to the man next to you with a curious look. You're not sure if he ignored you, or...

Just as you turned, he did too, and it seemed like he had something in mind he wanted to voice when a Fatui Pyro Agent came to whisper something next to him. Pantalone gives him a nod when he was done, and then he walks away. His gaze returns to you, and the corners of his lips turn up.

"I must go meet with an important client, now. Would you care to join me? I'm sure your presence would help with any potential deal," he explains.

You can sense a slight softness—or is it sultriness?—in his voice. It sounds the same as when he'd spoken to you in his office, but with a minute difference. Or, maybe you're imagining it.

"If it is no problem for you." You return his expression.

His smile widens, albeit briefly. He turns to the bar and as he stands up, he calls out, "Luka, bring it to the room."

"Got it!"

The man brings his attention back to you and asks, "Shall we?"

You followed suit and grabbed your coat and bag before giving a witty reply, "We shall."

He guides you to the other side of the bar to a wide hallway with several doors on both sides. He opens one of them and lets you enter first, which you only nod to with a smile in gratitude without looking directly into his eyes as you do so. You keep your gaze low until you're inside the room. The first thing you notice is the heat.

There's a wall partition from both sides where the room gets divided in half. In the first half, the one you're standing in, there's only a high round medium-sized table made of glass in the middle for decorative purposes, with gold decorations all over the rim. A flower pot sits on top of it. The glossy floor is made of a wavy mixture of black and brown marble cut into tiles. You're not too sure, but there seems to be a built-in wardrobe on the left, judging by the subtle door handle. On the right wall, a long, rectangular mirror.

In the second half, a black leather couch covers the entire lower wall on all three sides. In the middle is a low round table made of black marble with gray and gold sparkle streaks. A small chandelier hangs above the table, giving the room a soft yellow glow that doesn't hurt the eyes. That light makes the beige walls appear golden. And finally, on the couch, the side facing the door, there is a man in a black suit sitting. You estimate he must be around fourty years old, judging by the forming wrinkles.

"Ah, Mr. Pantalone! There you are!" he exclaims while standing up.

You step to the side to make way for the man behind you.

"Mr. Bolshov. Greetings," he responds with his trademark smile, without returning the enthusiasm.

He'd walked up to the man for a handshake and you follow, quietly watching the interaction. Though, as soon as you'd come to stand next to Pantalone, this Bolshov character turned his attention to you, and then the handshake came to an end.

"My, and who is this beauty?" His eyes go wide with fascination.

Pantalone raises his hand to gesture to you as he introduces, "This is our newest, second major shareholder from Fontaine."

"Irene Belleau, pleasure to make your acquaintance," you say politely as you extend your hand for a handshake.

"Yegor Bolshov, my lady," he introduces himself in a low voice. He bows and, instead of giving you a handshake, he leans in to give the back of your hand a peck. You almost want to pull your hand away.

Except, before his lips could make contact with your skin, Pantalone intervenes.

"Mr. Bolshov, I remember you mentioning a few weeks ago that you wanted to make a deal to ensure your family's safety, did you not?"

You can't see it, but your body feels it. You feel like his voice had gotten a pitch lower than his usual tone. It feels the same as when you'd first heard him after the doors had closed behind you in his office. There's malice in it.

Your body went stiff. Your heartbeat's gotten faster, and you try to maintain your composure despite it. You slowly retract your hand from this man's grasp without a comment. Realizing the situation he's in, he straightens himself and nervously chuckles.

"You're right, I did say that, uh..." His eyes frantically look down in both directions for a second before landing on Pantalone's again. "Shall we begin then? Let's sit down!"

You let Pantalone walk in first, and he sits on the same side the other man sat before. You sit on the side next to him. As for Bolshov, he returns to his seat. They soon begin talking about some other deal that you're not about to concern yourself with. You keep an ear out for anything that might sound useful to you later down the line though, just in case.

While they're talking, the door opens, and in comes a waiter with a tray. The discussion doesn't stop, even when the tray's placed on the table. He places a filled flute glass before you on the table, then proceeds to serve the other two. He puts down two empty wine glasses for them, then opens a wine bottle to pour the drink in them. You watch the waiter leave when he was done, only taking the tray with him. He leaves the bottle on the table.

You observe the drink that he'd placed in front of you. Its color is a semi-transparent light pink with air bubbles in it, and a pair of small ice cubes. You assume it must be a sparkling drink. Though, the most notable thing about it is the red flower petal that sits on top. It reminds you of the words Pantalone had spoken to the bartender before bringing you in this room. He hadn't ignored you, after all.

You lean forward to pick it up from the stem, sit back straight, and swirl it in a circular motion twice before bringing the rim close to your nose. Aside from the smell of the alcohol, you pick up some strawberry, raspberry, a little hint of citrus, and mostly rose. A mix that brings a smile to your face. You take a sip of the cool drink, and the fuzzy liquid's flavor explodes on your tongue in small bursts. You appreciate the ice. The coolness makes the experience even better. You'll have to ask him why he chose this one later.

Your mind comes back to the present where you're in a VIP room with two other men discussing business together. You were specifically invited to be here, and Pantalone made it sound like you'd be doing him a favor with your presence. You're not sure how, especially after the whole show with him revealing the fact that the client has a family when he was entranced by your beauty. Him instilling fear by intimidation woul-

Oh.

Did he know this would happened?

You glance at him while you keep your lips on the glass rim. He wears that never-ending, cryptic look on his face when he listens or talks to the client. He's unreadable. But, one thing you can read is that, whatever's happening, it doesn't particularly displease him. Whether it's something he expected or not, though, that would remain a mystery. You could be wrong, that he could very well be displeased right now without showing it. You'll have to wait and see.

"...but as you already know, I can't risk my wife and daughter to become collateral damage, should the trade fail," Bolshov states in a desperate attempt to gain pity.

"It is stated in our contract that, should the enterprise declare bankruptcy while in debt, all assets will be liquidated to pay it off. You should have been more careful, Mr. Bolshov," Pantalone responds coldly.

From what you could gather in their discussion this whole time, the client owns a mining company and he had signed a contract with Northland Bank for his business. However, it seems like there's some internal difficulties, which made Bolshov anxious about the possibility of going bankrupt, and thus affecting his family. He isn't requesting Pantalone to not liquidate the enterprise, but to show mercy for his family so that they could still have a respectable livelihood. Pantalone, however, refuses to comply, and sticks by the clauses of their contract.

"If I may..." you start.

Both men stop and turn their heads to look at you. You keep your eyes trained on the client.

"It is true that you should have read the clauses in full before considering signing the contract, but now it is too late. If you'd like to make a change to the clauses after the fact, you may have a better chance at succeeding if you present something in return. As it stands, Mr. Pantalone has no reason to do so," you explain in a matter-of-fact way.

"N... Not even for empathy..?" he stammers.

"Business has no place for personal feelings, Mr. Bolshov."

You can almost visibly see his world shattering by the look on his face. You've already disconnected yourself from your own emotions to feel anything in the moment, but you guess that you would have otherwise felt guilty for enforcing the strict rules that could potentially ruin his and his innocent family's life.

"I will say, though, as a friendly advice," you take a sip, enjoying the short experience, then continue, "you'd probably be better off focusing your time and energy on figuring out your company's problems. It's about the low sales, correct?"

"Yes..."

You stare at the petal in your glass—which you're still holding—as you speak. "Then, see if you can collaborate with other business owners of different fields. Gems don't necessarily tie to jewelries only. In the world of fashion, there's more variety for women than men, not to mention the old saying that a woman's best friend is a diamond," you end with a smirk. You'll let him figure out the rest.

From your peripheral vision, you can see his eyes widen and somewhat soften, as if all the stress from earlier is gone.

"Right, thank you... I will keep that in mind," he says, grateful for the advice.

You don't reply. Still smirking, you swirl the glass a few times again when Pantalone speaks instead. You take another sip in the meantime.

"Now, then, shall we bring this evening to an end, or is there something else you wish to discuss, Mr. Bolshov?" Pantalone asks.

"I think it is right to end it here for tonight. I have to go back home and think things through, thanks to Ms. Belleau's advice," he speaks calmly. All trace of stress is indeed gone.

Pantalone lets out a deep chuckle before standing up. The other man follows him and gets up as well. You place your glass down on the table and do the same, just so you wouldn't appear disrespectful.

"I'm glad that things ended on a good note tonight. Thank you for your cooperation." Pantalone extends his hand to the man.

Bolshov takes it and shakes his hand. "Of course, always a pleasure doing business with you."

After briefly shaking the Regrator's hand, he turns to you and extends his towards you. You don't want to let the awkwardness return, so you take it and shake his hand.

"Thank you for your help, Ms. Belleau. I apologize for my misdemeanor earlier." He then lets go, and you retract your hand once more.

"It's in the past. I wish your family well."

"Thank you."

You gently nod with an impassive expression.

The man bids his farewell, then walks out the room with the door closed behind him. As if you were synchronized, you and Pantalone both sit back in your seats at the same time. Clearly, just like you, his business is not over. You don't look over to him until you're sitting back with your glass in hand. You cross your legs afterwards, and unintentionally, your leg moves out of your dress from the slit with the motion. You don't think twice about it and just leave it as a minor mishap.

His hair remains wavy and perfectly intact, like he hadn't had a long day and only had it styled moments ago. His legs are crossed just like yours, and his body leans against the back of his seat. His hands rest on his thighs. Judging by the relaxed posture, the man is in no rush to call it a day just yet.

"Go on, what did you want to ask me?"

Ah.

He read you, just as you'd read him. Your lack of rebuttal pleases him. He smirks.

"Why this?" you inquire with a few gentle shakes of your now half-empty glass.

The shaking got his attention, which made it clear what you meant. He wears a full-on smile and slightly gets up to sit right next to you, with nothing but an inch away. Eyes on you, he places one hand behind you on the couch to keep himself steady as he leans toward the glass.

At this proximity, you can feel the heat radiating off him. You can smell the wine he'd drunk from this distance. Though this closeness is unexpected, you don't move away. You return his gaze unfazed, like you're taking on a challenge without fear.

When he looks down, he lifts his other hand to the rim and, with the pinch of his index finger and thumb, he carefully takes the rose petal out and stares at it intently as he speaks.

"A fragrant flower in full bloom, with thorns to keep its treasures safe from any wrong-doers who seek its gems. This wine's sparkling property is meant to reflect the thorns, and its fruity and floral flavor profile, its gems," he explains in a soft voice as if he's reciting a poem.

You notice the mood shift, so you make an effort to respond appropriately.

You tilt your head to the side and glance at the petal. "But that doesn't answer my question, now, does it?" You shift your focus to him.

He looks up and stares into your eyes in one swift motion. His eyes narrow very slightly, making his gaze gentler. He articulates slowly, "For but a moment, I was reminded of it, owing to your very pleasant fragrance."

The man makes some small movements with his long pale fingers that hold the petal, so that instead of holding it with his thumb and index, he'd hold it with the back of his index and middle finger. He leans down to the petal and, through it all, half-lidded eyes remain locked on yours.

He presses his lips against the red petal and gently kisses it for what feels like a prolonged period. He closes his eyes, then inhales the smell. He opens his eyes with a soft look on his face as he gazes at the petal when he pulls back.

"Roses are indeed beautiful and fragrant. It is a shame they cannot grow here in Snezhnograd," he speaks almost wistfully.

You're not sure how to respond.

This gesture of his was not something you expected of him. From what you had gathered, he was a man who'd cautiously plan ahead, seeing as how carefully he'd choose his words when dealing with clients, or preventing any microexpressions from revealing his true thoughts. He's calculating and intelligent, and although you do dress up with class, this is merely to express your ability to command respect. Men falling to their knees for you is an afterthought.

Which is why you're dubious.

You were sure that he had received your message by now, because what you had hoped to convey was exactly that, the ability to command respect. If he could see that, which you're sure he did, then he would have less reason to fall for your beauty trap. For a man as composed as him, expressing any emotion would be alien. Whether he truly is acting on behalf of his emotions or some scheme, you conclude that playing the fool would be the safer option.

"Are you fond of them, too?" you ask with interest and curiosity. You lean back just a bit, enough to barely brush against his arm behind you with any slight movement made by either of you. This is a calculated move on your part, to indicate with your body language that you were comfortable with him. And because of that, you also relax your posture.

"Why, yes. Had our climate been hospitable to flora, I'd have a garden of them," he says with a gentle face, eyes still on the petal between his fingers. "But alas."

You hum and agree in an airy voice, "A shame indeed."

His smirk returns, as if he's just gotten a new idea. His eyes find yours once again. With the petal still between the back of his fingers, he raises his hand up to your forehead and gently, and slowly, he slides the tip of the soft rose petal down from your hairline.

"Though, lately, I find myself wishing for it less by the day."

He reaches the nose bridge.

"Since a new type of rose has been discovered."

The upper lip.

"Which every man wants for himself."

The chin.

"Wherever she goes."

The collarbone.

"Right here, in Snezhnaya."

The center of the chest.

The quickening of your heartbeat makes it harder to keep your breath steady, which you'd come to hold in involuntarily. Your lips are parted, since your body finds it difficult to breathe through the nose. Excitement and fear course through your veins, and they're the only things you know to think about.

Even while sitting, his body's tall stature still towers over you. It becomes especially evident when he leans his face closer to yours. At your eye level, you can only stare at his lips. Your eyes narrow with lust, and you can't tell if the influence of the alcohol in your drink kicked in or not. He slowly tilts his head and leans in even closer. However, instead of getting closer to your face, he leans closer to your other ear that's further from where he sits.

His neck is now positioned right in front of you. The strong smell of his cologne overwhelms your senses, so much so that you feel the need to close your eyes when you inhale it. In this state of stupor, you can barely make out a raspy mumble. He's close enough for you to feel his hot humid breath on your neck and earlobe when he speaks.

"One ought to be careful not to get pricked by her thorns."

You keep inhaling his scent. He doesn't pull back until you inhale a couple more times. The absence of his body in such close proximity almost sobers you up. 

"Wouldn't you agree?"

You turn to look at him. You're dumbfounded by what just happened. Lips apart, you're confused and struggling to make sense of everything. Your brain can register and understand what he just asked like it's muscle memory, but can't find the words to communicate. There are too many words in the dictionary to choose from. So instead, you nod stiffly.

Pantalone seems amused by your reaction, though. At least, you can make out that much, thanks to his grin.

"It seems like you've gotten tired. Would you like me to escort you back?"

Whatever influence you were under clears away, and your ability to speak returns.

"I wouldn't want to trouble you," you say with a forced smile.

He chuckles. "Why would it be troublesome if I offer it?"

"Well..." you trail off. You try to think of a reply, but in the end you concede, "Alright, if you say so. Thank you." You nod politely.

"No problem at all."

You put your coat back on and grab your bag before walking towards the door. Pantalone passes you and opens the door for you. You graciously accept his kindness and walk out first. He follows after. The process repeats once more when you leave the bar with him to the carriage that had been stationed on the other corner of the street.

The Fatui Pyro Agent you'd seen before was nowhere to be found. There's only the coachman that had been smoking a pipe by the front wheel. The air tonight felt crisp and cold, but stable. If there was any wind, it would only be as strong as a gentle blow.

As soon as you both came into the coachman's view, he ends his break, puts his pipe away, and opens the door for the two of you without question. Pantalone helps you up first before joining after you. The inside is very spacious with enough leg room compared to the one you'd taken with Xu Feng to get here. It feels a lot more secure, too, when it comes to sheltering and providing comfort for the passengers. No wind can pass through. You'd told them which hotel you were staying at, and then the coachman began driving the carriage to your destination.

When you arrived, the coachman helped you out. You had exchanged good night's with Pantalone before they drove off. You'd then made your way into your hotel room. After washing and changing, you lay in bed, and it didn't take long before you pass out for the night.

Chapter Text

His POV

Standing before the large window in the dimly lit bedroom, the man leaned his head back and stayed in that position. Those dark wavy strands can only hang from the scalp. Long fingers run through them, as if to clear his mind. Behind closed eyes, he replays the scene in the room, particularly the part when she'd spoken to his client on his behalf.

The reason why he'd wanted to bring her to his meeting with Yegor Bolshov was to remind him of his position before discussing a previously inconclusive matter. The moment he'd heard her voice at the bar and laid his eyes on hers, he knew what he wanted to do.

He has no shame in admitting that he knows exactly how this Irene woman's allure could captivate any weak man's heart. He lets out a strained, breathy chuckle, only for his ears to hear in this vast, cold and dark room. He isn't weak, but he knows exactly what game she's playing, and it could be fatal if he plays one wrong move. Normally, he wouldn't play any games with anyone if he has nothing to gain from them. But Irene's game is different, and it's not because of her feminine irresistible charisma.

The more time passes, the more certain he becomes that the break-in is related to her. Had he been in the shoes of this otherwise unknown adversary, he would've exercised caution. Always one to think two steps ahead of his enemies, he would take action before they do. He'd have to lay low.

It is unlikely for someone to simply run from Snezhnaya's military. However, if this person is exceptionally trained and prepared, it wouldn't be as unlikely, especially if he's capable of hiding for so long. But, the reason why the passing of time makes him more confident of his suspicion is because the longer the intruder hides, the more likely it becomes that he had gotten what he was looking for that day, and that he is no longer serving his purpose. Irene's persistent presence thus proves it.

He has no doubt that this businesswoman character of Irene Belleau is a false identity, despite checks proving its validity. If the intruder, presumably an informant, is of high caliber, then naturally his leader would be formidable on the battlefield. He hadn't found any weapons or Vision on her, but the possibility that she's hiding them isn't off the table. He only has a Delusion and a hidden blade, so facing her head-on may not be ideal.

This said leader, this Irene, would definitely have to have been trained by a certified national army general, or something of the sort. It would make sense if she was, if her goal is in fact related to Snezhnaya's diplomatic relations. If she is in fact a spy that had been planted here to create internal strife and eventually cause Snezhnaya to fall due to strained relations with other nations, then, as one of the Tsaritsa's Eleven Harbingers, it would become his duty to protect his homeland. So, rather than waiting to see what this woman's plans are and risk waiting until it's too late, he'd rather think two steps ahead and act before her.

But then there is a dilemma. This woman did in fact invest thirty-five billion Mora in his business, which is essentially like an early birthday present for him and his goals. If she's able to bring him additional revenue, then he would rather extort her as much as he could before moving on to the next step.

He can't apprehend her on the spot, nor extort her of all her resources immediately, be it her intellect or her wealth. Irene being a false identity is still a mere theory, but one that the man is very wary of. The possibility is there, and he would much rather not risk letting his homeland fall to its knees for her.

Seeing as how she specifically dresses in ways that would have men lust over her at the mere sight of her, Pantalone thinks it wise, then, to feign his desire. Not necessarily to hide under her radar, but mostly because he wants to stall for time. Ideally, he would get the woman to fall for his charades and sweet lies so that she would either give up on her plans, or to reveal them. If she gives up, he could deprive her of everything she owns, just like how she aims to deprive men of their hearts. But if she reveals her plans, then he could have her arrested and sentenced on the spot. And he could probably get away with her assets under his belt.

Fingers grab onto black strands and curl into a fist, pulling the hair with it. A long sigh escapes his lips. Half-lidded, his dark eyes look out the window briefly before closing them. His Adam's apple bobs when he swallows down saliva that had been pooling up in his mouth. He stands there for minutes, unmoving from his position.

He sucks in a deep breath, and then he releases it calmly with an exhale. His eyes remain closed, and his hair still gets pulled by the fist. His mind drifts off to that scene again where she'd dealt with his problem for him.

He could've handled it on his own, but he hadn't expected her to even defend his stance and do him a favor. Though, now that he thinks about it, that would be expected of a spy. And yet, he still knows nothing about just how smart she could be. What is intended, or what is unexpected, he can't tell.

Though, none of that matters if he can successfully ruin her through her heart.

～～～

"As promised, your family will receive their due by the end of this month. Keep working hard as you already are, and I will keep my end of the bargain."

Cold and flat, his voice is devoid of any emotion.

"R-Really?!" the man straightens his back to look at the Lord behind the desk. His knees remain on the floor. "Is Elena truly alright?! And-"

"I've kept my promise."

Relief washes over him from hearing that his family's doing well.

"I'll say..." the domineering man speaks once again. The periodic thud of his glossy shoes and his cane fill the silence in his break as he walks around the table to stand before the kneeling man. "You've done well, surviving that poisonous wine back there."

The shift in tone paralyzes the man. Fear begins trickling down his veins. His blood runs cold.

He leans back against the table as he casually holds the cane straight in front of him with both hands over the handle. "She made you come back here as a double agent, didn't she?"

"U-Uh..." he stammers. His eyes frantically move across the floor.

The Lord chuckles deeply. He'd gotten his answer. "We can't have that, can we?"

Fearing the worst, the man's eyes bulge out. "W-Wait! I haven't done anything, I swear!"

"I know, Yusupov," he says as he places the bottom end of the cane over the kneeling man's shoulder. "My men are watching you."

He stays quiet and still, for fear of meeting his end right here with his blood staining the carpet. The cane on his shoulder keeps him down in every way.

"Should I ever hear that you've betrayed me, the first thing you will see the morning after is Elena and Olya's severed heads by your bed. You may consider that my gift before you depart as well, in case you ever wished to say goodbye to them."

Wide-eyed and mouth agape, the man named Yusupov shakes his head anxiously. "No..! I promise, I won't ever betray you, my Lord! I- I will tell you everything I was able to find out back there! My loyalty lies with you!"

Pantalone closes his eyes and smiles, seemingly pleased to hear the news of his loyalty. "Good! Then you have nothing to worry about, wouldn't you say?"

Still in fear, he stammers once more as he answers, "Y-Yes..!"

The Harbinger's eyes open just slightly, making his eyes narrow when he looks down at Yusupov. He'd gotten an idea on how to test his loyalty.

"Since that's the case, then I'm sure you would have no problems with the task I'm about to give you." He lifts his cane from his shoulder and leans it against the desk before pulling out some piece of paper that laid on the table behind him.

Yusupov both wonders out of curiosity and fear when he asks, "What task..?

The man observes the item in his hand before turning it around and presenting it to the man on the floor. It was a picture of a young lady. "If you ever happen to learn anything about this woman, do let me know."

He gasps. He gets up from the floor and grabs the picture from Pantalone's hand and stares at it for a moment. With a look of confidence and concern, he brings his attention back to the man and announces, "This is Irene Belleau!"

Now that piqued his interest.

"You know her?" he patiently asks.

"Yes," he answers with a nod. "Or, well, not really. I met her."

Pantalone pushes himself off the table and raises an eyebrow. While crossing his arms, he prods the man, "Go on."

He begins pacing in front of the desk while Yusupov speaks.

"My coworker and I, from the trading company, we met a foreigner from Mondstadt at the port, and then a few moments later, this woman, Irene, came up to us and immediately her eyes were set on this Lucas fella," he explains.

"Who is this Lucas?" Pantalone inquires, still pacing.

"Lucas Hechler, the foreigner. It was probably because of his bright green eyes... He seemed like the clueless type, I'll be honest. And, still, she seemed more interested in him than my buddy Zakharov who clearly showed interest in her."

Another victim of her charm, he thinks.

"And then?"

"And then... Well, she asked Lucas to... 'humor' her, which I assume was her way to ask him to... uh..." he trails off, hesitant to finish his sentence.

Pantalone has an idea of what Yusupov was going to say next to finish his sentence, but the uncertainty still irritates him. "To what?" he demands.

"T-To sleep with her!" he finishes hurriedly under the pressure of his Harbinger's command.

He stops in his tracks. Without turning around, he asks one final question to Yusupov, "When did this happen?"

"Uh..." He makes an effort to remember the specifics of the date. As he counts in his head, he he raises and lowers his fingers to aid him. He then finally recalls. "Around two weeks ago."

This makes Pantalone look up. He wears a serious look on his face as he maps out the timing of the events in his head.

When Irene first came to Northland Bank to deposit the cheque, it was around a week ago and some. He knows that the trading company Yusupov now works at is situated in Novokitezhgrad by the port. Traveling to Snezhnograd approximately takes 3 days or 4, depending on the length of the breaks. If Irene and the foreigner departed the day right after Yusupov met them, that would put the timing of the break-in around a week and a half ago from now. It fits.

He grins to himself. There's a chance that, rather than not operating and laying low, the intruder is still operating even now, but with a different approach. And to further that point, there's a chance that the approach he's taking is that of a foreigner, with bright green eyes. Since he came here with that woman, he must still be in the city, then.

He fixes his composure and hides his excitement before walking back to Yusupov. "Well done. Keep up the good work, and I will make sure your family receives a bonus by the end of the month. Your intel has proven to be quite valuable," he ends in a low raspy voice.

Yusupov is surprised, pleasantly at that. "Thank you! I will keep an eye out for anything that may relate to her. You have my word, my Lord."

He hums with a smile. His cue that the man can now leave.

Except he doesn't.

A frown takes over Yusupov's face. There's no trace of hatred in his eyes, but rather something more like worry. He looks down at the picture and stares at it again. This behavior confuses the Harbinger.

"Is there something wrong with the image?"

Without looking up, the man shakes his head gently. He doesn't speak until a moment later. "Her face feels familiar, but I can't remember where I'd seen it before."

The Lord remains silent. He doesn't have much to go off of, so he doesn't think anything of it.

"Keep it with you, and think about it in your own time. Don't come back until you find something new," he instructs.

"Ah, yes sir. Thank you." He bows with his hand curled into a fist over his heart.

Pantalone gestures with his hand in the door's direction, and Yusupov leaves. He waits a few seconds after the door clicked, and then calls for one of the Agents standing guard outside. He comes in and closes the door behind him, and then he kneels with his fist over his heart as a sign of greeting.

"You called, my Lord?"

"Send word to all the dispatched members to look for a man with bright green eyes from Mondstadt. He is hiding in Snezhnograd," he commands flatly.

"Orders received, my Lord."

"That is all. You're dismissed."

He lowers his head further as another gesture before leaving. The doors close, and silence finally settles.

The Harbinger breathes out a sigh. Pieces are coming together, and although there is no hard evidence, he's practically sure that Yusupov's information could serve as one. The break-in was, in fact, related to that woman after all. Her goals remain unknown, but for now, he will act upon the worst case scenario, and that is her being a national threat. Perhaps this Lucas failed that day, and perhaps the reason why Irene made her presence known is because she wants to try to do what the other couldn't.

All these remain a mystery, and he has a strong feeling that he will enjoy taking off her layers of secrecy one by one until she's all bare to him. Victory is on his side, he knows.