Chapter 15: Psychological Evaluation – You Might Need to Worry More About Yourself

Mary, actual codename [Cleef], was a Special Agent in the DGSS Operations Department alongside Rimbaud, and an expert skilled in psychological warfare.

Before Rimbaud was dispatched to suppress the [May Revolution], she had already been sent to Ireland on a covert infiltration mission and had not been in contact since.

He never expected to run into his colleague here clearly, she had come specifically to tease him.

As for her amateur disguise dyed hair, glasses, makeup, and a change of clothes it couldn’t fool Rimbaud, whose sharp observation skills and familiarity with his colleague’s habits saw right through it.

“Of course, the mission’s finished. I just got back a couple of days ago.”

Seeing her usually calm and steady colleague reveal such a flustered reaction even if only for a split second Cleef was thoroughly amused, her laughter ringing with triumph.

“I didn’t even take a break. As soon as I heard Mr. Gao needed to arrange psychological counseling for you and ”

Her large, round, light-green almond-shaped eyes swept toward Verlaine, completely ignoring his annoyed glare, before she continued cheerfully, “ this pretty boy, of course I had to volunteer. I even beat out the other candidates to make sure I got the job.”

With that last remark, she winked at Rimbaud, clearly delighted with everything she was witnessing.

Rimbaud: “……”

Great. She was clearly here just to laugh at him.

“It’s just a routine psychological debriefing,” Rimbaud replied, his tone flat and almost devoid of inflection. “No need for you to go out of your way, Miss Cleef.”

This counseling office wasn’t even hers she must have talked the real Dr. Mary into lending it to her through some means, all just to give him a “surprise.”

Verlaine had been quietly listening and had pieced together the situation:

The woman before them wasn’t the psychologist Rimbaud had actually booked she was a colleague with the same line of work as them, and she seemed quite familiar with Rimbaud.

But what she had said about him…

“Oh my,” Cleef responded to Rimbaud’s subtle jab, covering her mouth but failing to hide the mirth sparkling in her eyes. “I’m just so curious. I wonder who it was that used internal channels to inquire about music box craftsmen near Paris…”

Verlaine’s light hazel eyes widened, round and cat-like, before turning to stare at Rimbaud.

“……”

Rimbaud, caught off guard for the second time, could only grit his words with extra emphasis, his tone stiff and warning.

“Keep your curiosity to yourself, Cleef. You’re a spy, not a journalist.”

“Hehehehe…” Cleef’s laughter grew even more pointed, only stopping when Rimbaud’s pale gold eyes began to glint dangerously. Having had her fun, she finally redirected her attention to Verlaine.

All she got in return was another glare from the pretty boy fierce and prickly, yet utterly adorable.

So this was the world’s only successful case of Artificial Singularity. No wonder the higher-ups hadn’t opted for immediate disposal, but were instead trying to mold him into a weapon loyal to France.

Rimbaud kept a close watch. Colleagues who had heard the news wanted to meet this legendary “artificial god” and new coworker, but all were firmly turned away not even given a chance to visit.

Yet he himself showed excessive care, gifting custom music boxes, accompanying him through psychological evaluations, and even planning to give him a more pleasant-sounding title.

How could this not make everyone even more curious?

Heh, she had her ways. She’d have to show off properly to the others when she got back.

“Well then, let’s begin the main event.”

Cleef’s smile remained unchanged, but an utterly harmless, gentle warmth radiated from her presence.

When she spoke again, even her voice had softened into an elegant tone, each word enunciated with a uniquely charming rhythm, like smooth jade beads brushed by the wind, effortlessly captivating every listener.

Even the most wary individuals would find it difficult to maintain strong resistance or aversion toward her.

Assigning her to oversee this psychological assessment was truly underutilizing her talents.

When it came to her professional domain, Cleef became adept and seasoned, using gentle words to guide Verlaine through numerous personality tests including subjective questions employing projective methods.

Faced with those oddly shaped inkblot cards, Verlaine, whose knowledge was still relatively limited, could offer few tangible associations and could only answer to the best of his ability.

The House-Tree-Person test was much the same. Having never drawn before, Verlaine paused in confusion upon hearing the instructions before picking up the pen and slowly sketching the rough outlines of the requested shapes.

Since the premise given to Verlaine was “psychological counseling for both of them,” Rimbaud naturally followed through the entire process as well, without the slightest pretense.

After about an hour, all tests were completed. Cleef gathered her tools and notes, smiling as she extended a hand for a handshake with Verlaine.

“…………”

Compared to the beginning, Verlaine’s posture had hardly changed; he remained tense from start to finish, without any sign of relaxation.

Even after an hour of testing and numerous interactions with Cleef, during which he earnestly answered all her questions, his only response to her outstretched hand was to glance down briefly before turning to look at Rimbaud.

“Can we go back now?”

He asked bluntly, showing no intention of acknowledging Cleef clearly still holding a grudge over her “pretty little boy” remark.

Cleef cheerfully withdrew her hand, completely unbothered by Verlaine’s disregard.

“My, still shy, aren’t we?”

Verlaine: “………”

Who’s shy??

Unlike Verlaine, who struggled to handle this type of person yet couldn’t bring himself to get angry only stewing in silent frustration Rimbaud first nodded reassuringly to him, then stood and offered a slight, polite bow to Cleef.

“Thank you for your trouble, but don’t ever do something like this again.”

Polite in demeanor, but the words carried a clear threat, prompting Cleef to deliberately put on a [Oh dear, now I’m a little scared] expression before waving dismissively to indicate she understood.

After all, her curiosity had been satisfied for now there would always be chances to meet again in the future.

For now, she’d head back to organize the recorded test results and compile them into a report for the boss.

After all, her ability to replace the originally scheduled Dr. Mary wasn’t solely due to her own initiative. The higher-ups placed great importance on the initial personality test results of this artificial life form, particularly needing to determine whether his psychological state was dangerously uncontrolled.

Both this conclusion and the subsequent ongoing psychological tests were classified as top-secret documents, strictly prohibiting any information from being disclosed to the subject.

However, out of consideration for her long-standing acquaintance with Rimbaud, Cleef sent him a letter containing a simple coded message indicating that Verlaine’s test results showed no issues at least no dangerous factors requiring heightened alertness.

But beyond this coded message forced by confidentiality orders, Cleef attached a lengthy note for Rimbaud:

[You might need to pay more attention to yourself, my dear. Perhaps during the training for this job, you learned how to skillfully handle various psychological tests both general and professional and manipulate the results as desired. But that remains merely a job requirement, not your true inner self.]

[Clearly, I’m more professional than those third-rate psychologists. I can occasionally see through the unconscious glimpses of truth beneath your facade, and they reveal the anxiety, compulsive behaviors, and emotional avoidance symptoms you’ve been hiding… Well, I suppose this might be why you have a natural talent for this job?]

[Yet these still deserve attention. Even though they’re currently in mild, early stages, if left unaddressed, they’ll eventually grow like fears rooted deep in your heart transforming into increasingly dark clouds until they completely consume you.]

[If you need any help, dear, you know where to find me.]

Rimbaud read the message word by word before folding it back along its creases.

He knew exactly what was wrong with himself.

Cleef probably assumed he had some unfortunate past, but the truth was that a mischievous Death had already shown him his future, delighting in watching him exhaust every effort to escape death’s grasp in undignified ways.

He might need Cleef’s help someday, but certainly not now.

“Rimbaud?”

Verlaine spoke softly from the couch, but Rimbaud who had just returned from the doorway simply tossed the letter into the fireplace to burn it, his expression completely unchanged.

“Nothing important. Let’s continue.”