You stood on standby as Scaramouche paced in front of the kneeling Fatui agents, yelling harsh words at them for failing to capture the traveller yet again. There was nothing you could do but stand back and watch helplessly, it was clear that your subordinates did not like the way they were treated by the young man.

"Make sure you guys do not make the same mistake again!" Scaramouche threatened. "You don't want to see me angry, right now I was only annoyed! Now, scram! Get out of my sight and go find that girl!"

"Yessir!" The Fatui members collected themselves and went opposite directions in attempts to spread out and search for the traveller.

"[Y/N]," Scaramouche turned to you, flashing a furious smile. "Don't think you're out of my radar. I've been meaning to ask. Where have you been running off to during night time?"

You gulped a little from the way he looked at you, "I have been scouting the nearby area, sir. There's a terrible feeling in the pit of my stomach that we have unwanted visitors targeting our camping grounds."

"At least I can rely on someone!" He exclaimed in frustration at the direction where the Fatui agents once were. "Keep up the good work, [Y/N]. I don't regret choosing you as my secretary."

What he said was true; you were working under the sixth Fatui Harbinger as his personal secretary. You still don't know how you managed to get chosen out of a group of the best.

There wasn't really anything special about you. Your vision was Cryo. You wore a tight, blue blouse with an icy-blue jacket that ended just past your ribs, the infamous Fatui symbol over your heart. In addition, light blue shorts hugged your legs perfectly while a flowing dark blue scarf reached past your waist. Finally, black snow boots.

On each side of your hips was a holster for your two spray guns, which were quite large and heavy. Through detachable cords, the weapons were connected to the glass tank on your shoulders that was filled with frost from the coldest parts of Snezhnaya.

To put it simply; you were a part of the Cryogunner Legionnaires, hand-picked by Scaramouche himself.

But he never sent you out to do any fighting, he mostly orders you to stand next to him while he scolds the other Fatui members for petty reasons. This isn't why you signed up for the military, you wanted to fight enemies and capture criminals. Yet, you didn't have the courage to tell him that.

"I've had enough of this place," Scaramouche scoffed bitterly, tilting his hat up to look at the boiling sun. "We're heading to the Liyue Harbour to pick up more information from Childe. Let's go, [Y/N]."

Without any argument, you followed him obediently like a puppy to its master. The two of you walked together on the dirt road, keeping your eyes peeled for any potential enemies you could run into.

He glanced back at you from time to time, attempting to make small talk but you replied as little as you could since you were fearful of offending him. Scaramouche would click his tongue in annoyance from the lack of communication, sometimes muttering under his breath that you were being difficult.

After about twenty minutes of walking, the gates of the Liyue Harbour can be seen in the distance. Normally, you would put on your mask to hide your Fatui identity but, once again, Scaramouche has ordered that you didn't have to do such things.

"I've heard that the traveller and her companions frequent this area from time to time," You commented. "As you ordered, after asking the locals, they told me that she would visit a woman named Katheryne and sometimes the family running the Wanmin Restaurant."

"Very good, I knew I could count on you." Scaramouche praised. "Hell, if it were only us two, I'm sure we would've been able to catch that traveller by now. Isn't that right?"

"Yessir," You nodded in agreement.

"Now, a little detour from the Northland Bank, we will go to those locations you mentioned. Surely, we will be able to obtain some new information."

"Yessir," You accepted.

"Then finally, we will have a word with Childe."

"Yessir,"

"Yes, Scaramouche." He grumbled.

There was a cold sweat that draped over your body. Those words, especially his name, seemed to get stuck in your throat. The young man eyed you as he waited for your response.

You avoided his gaze, "Yes, Lord Scaramouche."

"Hm," He hummed in amusement.