Genshin Impact: Transmigrated as Furina's Second Personality

"President Marcel, you seem rather nervous."

Chevreuse's sharp gaze swept over Marcel, making his heart pound.

But Marcel managed to stay calm, forcing a smile. "You're joking, Captain Chevreuse. Anyone would feel nervous if someone from the Special Security and Surveillance Patrol came to see them."

"Is that so?"

Chevreuse made no comment and left without further ado.

Back in his room, Marcel let out a long breath and finally noticed that his clothes were drenched with cold sweat.

He had thought he'd avoided suspicion, but Chevreuse's glance before she left reignited his anxiety.

With just a look, she had set his heart racing.

He couldn't help but wonder if he really hadn't given himself away.

Had he already exposed something incriminating?

Had she uncovered evidence and was merely testing him?

Marcel's mind began to spiral, filled with doubts, and he knew he wouldn't be able to sleep that night.

On the other side, Chevreuse, who had just left the trading association, frowned slightly.

She sensed that there was definitely something wrong with Marcel.

However, lacking Felina's broader perspective, she understood only that Marcel was highly suspicious, but the clues alone weren't enough to prove he was the mastermind behind the attack on the Archon.

There was no concrete evidence linking Marcel to the assassination attempt; her suspicions were based solely on conjecture.

With so little to go on, Maison Ordalie would be unable to convict Marcel.

In fact, she even worried that Felina's decision to send her to test Marcel at this stage might not yield any critical evidence and might even alert him prematurely.

Still, recalling the calculating glint in Felina's eyes when she had been deep in thought, Chevreuse trusted that her plan must be more intricate than it seemed.

For now, she just needed to follow orders and wait for time to reveal Felina's true intentions.

Another day passed.

Once again, Chevreuse visited the Cabriale Trading Association under the guise of assisting in an investigation and sought out Marcel.

This time, she asked him a single question:

—"Mr. Marcel, you are a prominent merchant. Could you tell me if you know anything about the group selling Sinthe?"

Another day passed.

This day, Chevreuse returned to question Marcel with just one more question:

—"Mr. Marcel, we're investigating the recent series of disappearances involving young women. Could you tell me if you know anything about this?"

Another day passed.

On the third day, Chevreuse appeared once more.

But this time, she wasn't alone. Accompanying her was none other than Fontaine's strongest duelist representative, Clorinde!

Once again, Chevreuse asked Marcel only one question:

—"Mr. Marcel, we're investigating an old case. Have you heard of the name Vacher?"

At the mention of the name Vacher, Clorinde's hand clapped onto the hilt of her sword, and an overwhelming bloodlust surged from her, locking onto Marcel.

At that instant, Marcel's face went deathly pale.

He froze for a full two seconds before regaining his composure, forcing himself to stay calm, and mustering a strained smile.

"Apologies, but I've never heard that name."

"Is that so? Thank you for your cooperation," Chevreuse replied with a nod, though she kept her sharp gaze trained on his eyes.

"President Marcel, when I mentioned the name Vacher, you hesitated for two seconds. Are you certain you don't know this person?"

"Misunderstanding, complete misunderstanding!" Marcel waved his hands in protest. "I was startled by Miss Clorinde. She's the most skilled duelist in Fontaine, and surely anyone would be a bit rattled by the way she reaches for her sword. I was only startled by Miss Clorinde."

"Ah, I see. My apologies for scaring you," Clorinde replied expressionlessly from the side.

With that, Chevreuse and Clorinde turned to leave. But Marcel called out to them as they reached the door.

"Please, hold on a moment. Captain Chevreuse, may I ask why you've been questioning me every day? Do you suspect me of some crime?"

Chevreuse paused, expressionless, and turned back to Marcel. "You're overthinking things, President Marcel. This is a routine investigation. It's not just you—many residents in the area have been questioned by the Special Security and Surveillance Patrol over the past few days."

With that, Chevreuse and Clorinde walked away, leaving Marcel alone in a state of dread.

In his office, Marcel tried to calm himself with a cup of tea.

But as he held the teacup, his hands trembled uncontrollably, and he spilled half of the tea before he could even bring it to his lips.

Why was he so nervous?

Because the one who orchestrated the assassination attempt on the Archon, who trafficked in Sinthe, and who was the culprit behind the string of young women's disappearances—all of this was him!

A ruthless criminal, hiding his deeds for twenty years, now suddenly faced by the captain of the Special Security and Surveillance Patrol.

On the first day, she had asked him if he knew about the assassination attempt on the Archon.

On the second day, she had asked him about the Sinthe trafficking ring.

And on the third day, she asked him about the string of young women's disappearances.

Imagine if you were Marcel—how would you feel? Would you be terrified?

With every visit, Chevreuse had been applying pressure on him, each question cutting closer to the truth, each increasingly targeted, each weighing more heavily.

Though simple on the surface, each question, every look, and even every movement was crafted to push Marcel's nerves to the breaking point.

To use a metaphor, Marcel was standing at the edge of a cliff, and with each visit, Chevreuse's questions pushed him closer to the brink.

When she finally mentioned the name Vacher, it meant that Marcel already had one foot off the cliff.

Vacher—Marcel's name from long ago.

When he had decided to kidnap young women for human experiments, he had abandoned the name Vacher.

He had been so certain he had erased every trace of that name.

Even Fontaine's official records held no mention of Vacher.

But for Chevreuse to bring up that name meant that she had thoroughly investigated him and found clues to his crimes.

Her repeated visits over the past few days had been designed to apply pressure, to gauge his reactions.

Marcel had no doubt that Chevreuse's actions over these days were authorized by Lady Furina.

And when a criminal, hidden for years, is finally backed into a corner, teetering on the brink of exposure, his most likely reaction is to kill and silence those who threaten his secrets.

Each probing question brought even greater pressure than the last.

Especially when Chevreuse said the name Vacher, and Clorinde made a motion as if to draw her sword.

Marcel was a businessman, a drug lord, and a madman who had killed twenty-four young girls for his human experiments.

Having taken lives, he knew all too well what killing intent felt like.

In that moment, he felt a burst of pure, icy intent radiating from Clorinde. The instant he became her target, it was as if he had plunged into an ice-cold abyss, every inch of his skin shivering from the chill.

At that moment, he truly felt the specter of death hovering over him.

The killing intent, timed perfectly with the mention of Vacher, was like a tidal wave crashing into him, almost crushing his frayed nerves.

He hadn't slept soundly for days, and with that brief, intense threat combined with the name Vacher, the strain had nearly shattered him.

"A wide-range investigation, not directed solely at me?"

Marcel sneered. He knew full well that the Special Security and Surveillance Patrol hadn't questioned anyone else in the area.

Over the past few days, Chevreuse had come only to see him.

But what could he say? Confront her and risk making mistakes? That would only open him to further pressure from her.

He could see that Furina must already know he was the mastermind. All of this—their repeated visits—was simply a way for her to apply unrelenting pressure.

Though he couldn't fathom how Furina had discovered him, nor how she had managed to dig up so much on him, he was beginning to realize just how terrifying it was to cross a Archon.

Even without lifting a finger, a Archon could bring endless pressure, subjecting a criminal like him to mental torment that robbed him of his peace.

Whether he was a drug lord, a prominent merchant, or a ruthless killer, a Archon could devise countless ways to torment him, leaving him sleepless and anxious.

As he gazed out the window, Marcel noticed several figures lingering around the association, their behavior so suspicious that it took him no effort to spot them.

He guessed they were there to monitor him, members of the Special Security and Surveillance Patrol sent to keep watch.

Why were they so careless, so easily noticed? Because they wanted him to know he was being watched. It was all part of the pressure.

Taking deep breaths to calm himself, Marcel finally regained composure, his expression twisting into something dark and sinister.

Felina had driven him to the edge of a cliff.

Faced with the threat of death, he had two choices:

One: Surrender and let the Archon herself push him off that cliff.

Two: Refuse to retreat and instead lunge forward, desperately grasping for a chance at survival!

As a hardened criminal, he chose the second option: a last-ditch counterattack.

Fontaine was a nation of law and justice, and even a Archon required solid evidence to sentence someone.

He had to bring Furina down from her pedestal before she could gather the evidence to deliver his judgment.

This idea sounded insane, a hopeless final struggle, yet he was confident.

He possessed crucial evidence that Furina was not, in fact, a Hydro Archon.

The next day...

On a street in Fontaine Court,

"Um... Felina, are you sure this outfit isn't... a bit inappropriate?"

Furina looked down at her dress.

Today, she was wearing the yellow spaghetti-strap sundress she had bought a few days earlier. The hem of the dress just brushed her thighs, revealing her knees and calves.

She wore little white stockings with brown leather shoes, and on her head was a charming straw hat adorned with a red ribbon.

She looked like a girl from a storybook—fresh, vibrant, and brimming with youthful charm.

"Hm? Why would it be inappropriate? Furina, you're gorgeous! This looks perfect on you, and didn't you think this dress was beautiful?"

"It is pretty…"

Furina fidgeted. "But it seems too casual… not refined or dignified enough, not quite like a Archon's attire."

Feeling the gazes from those around her, Furina was as skittish as a rabbit, clearly uneasy under their scrutiny.

She liked her outfit, but worried it wasn't befitting the image of a Archon and feared people might question her divine identity.

Seeing her concern, Felina chuckled softly.

"You're overthinking it."

"Here, let me take over, and just watch carefully!"

With that, Felina took control.

Ignoring everyone's gaze, she boldly strolled right up to an elderly woman who was looking her way.

"Good morning, my dear citizen!"

Since they shared the same body, Felina's voice sounded identical to Furina's.

Her voice was pleasant and spirited, and she smiled warmly at the old woman.

"Oh! Lady Furina!" The old woman beamed, delighted beyond measure. "I can't believe Lady Furina would greet me personally. This must be my lucky day!"

Felina smiled back. "May today bring you happiness."

"My dear, I noticed you were looking my way. Tell me, do you think my new dress suits me?"

The elderly woman blinked, surprised by the unexpected question, and then she chuckled kindly.

"Haha, Lady Furina, you're naturally beautiful. You'd look lovely in anything."

"Usually, you wear very elegant, formal attire that gives a high and dignified air. But today, that feeling is gone."

"Today, you seem approachable. This outfit makes you look like the evening sun casting a gentle light on a calm lake, beautiful and tender. It suits you perfectly, capturing your beauty and youth."

"I'm sure the people of Fontaine will feel refreshed seeing you in this look!"

"Lady Furina truly deserves to be called a Archon. When I first saw you, I was only five years old, yet you're as youthful and radiant as ever, while I've grown into this old, gray-haired woman."

As the beloved Hydro Archon and a celebrity of Fontaine, meeting Furina was a rare opportunity, and it was said that appointments to see her were booked years in advance.

So the elderly woman was thrilled by this chance to chat with Felina and continued to engage her in conversation for quite a while.