Remembrance Over Solitude

Chapter 37

I've made this chapter extra long. Enjoy

"Your invitation, please." The guard in front of Serena states with his hand held out. 

Serena gives him the single card piece for him to inspect, not a second later, he turns to his partner and gives him a firm nod. The other guard proceeds to open the grandiose entrance behind him and he gives her back the card. "Enjoy your night, the auction begins at ten o'clock sharp, if you're interested in joining please get a numbered sign 30 minutes before the start." He informs dutifully. She gives a slight nod as a sign of thanks and heads inside herself.

Behind these doors lies Fontaine's ever-famed and exclusive masquerade ballroom that has held countless similar galas throughout the centuries. The ballroom is filled with crowds of people wearing extravagant and dapper gowns and suits along with unique masks. Some wore feathers and embedded jewels in theirs while others went for a more eccentric approach. Needless to say, this place was definitely one where only the rich and famous would gather.

A person in poverty or the extremely ordinary wouldn't have been able to set foot in here, no less receive an invitation.

It is not a means to discriminate against those who are poor, but it is a harsh fact of reality. Everybody in this hall has contributed to Fontaine's government monetarily or economically in some way, shape or form. That's the only reason the Fatui were allowed an invitation here in the first place.

Serena scanned through the crowd observantly while walking with poise and aloofness, a presence that would suit one of a Harbinger's direct subordinates. In the distance, she spots an entire group of targets/clients all conversing in a group. A bunch of old businessmen in expensive suits who were comparing each other's wealth and loudly boasting about their material wealth so loudly that those who passed by could be seen subtly frowning or would immediately avoid them. She thinks to herself that they're likely no different from Pantalone himself. The only difference that sets them apart is their charisma and how well Pantalone is able to hide his true nature from all.

Like the lying snake, he is.

It's easy to tell they are the people she's looking for because the Fatui's spies and intelligence unit have dug deep to find any features that can determine their identity even while they are masked. For example, the one with the big red-nosed mask is a business partner of ours who is the owner of a business that the Fatui has invested in since before Serena joined it makes innovative machines that help them with sabotaging rivalling operations to help them obtain whatever they have to gain from it. The one in the black and green; bird-like mask is someone who has connections to Liyue's mining and ore industry in The Chasm and is also a spy for them who has leaked some very useful information from the Liyue Qixing to them. It's a miracle he hasn't been caught yet.

The rest of them are people who are their executives or their business partners.

But among that group of men, there is one that Serena has no certainty of. A man with long black hair tied neatly into a low ponytail with a few white streaks coming from the crown of his head. He is wearing an ivory-black, Venetian blindfold mask that covers the upper half of his face.

From the condition of his skin, he seems to be rather young as I see no wrinkles or marionette lines on him.

Perhaps he is an assistant like me who tagged along with their boss to an event like this.

She approaches them steadily and greets them with cresent-lidded eyes. "Good evening gentlemen. Would you mind if I indulge in your company for tonight?" She asks eloquently. A few of them snicker and some stare for a moment. Finally one of them speaks up. "And who might you be to ask such a meaningless request?" He scoffs rudely. "Why, I think you'd know me quite well as we've met many times before." She chuckled lightly."Hah, you're not the first one to claim you know men of 'our' stature. You didn't even bow when you introduce yourself. You're probably nothing more than a high-class whore." Another claimed conceitedly as he swirled his wine glass.