Serious People, Who is Learning Magic at Marvel?

The conversation continued for a long time, and Verya seemed to want to make up for herself. From the afternoon to the evening, the concierge knocked on the door many times, saying that someone outside wanted to see her. All were rejected by Verya.

They didn't come out of the office until the school was ready to close. Jimmy's eyes widened in confusion when he realized that the man who came out was not the same man who entered. But when he saw the similar but different faces of Anderson and Verya, he forced himself to calm down. Although he didn't talk to Verya about it, he still decided that he had to keep his mouth shut.

They strolled on the streets of Vizima in the evening. It was not a civilized and tidy city, and it was far worse than Novigrad. The city of Vizima is divided into three main areas, the poorest being the Temple District, where the Hospital of St. Rebioda and the monastery of the Knights of the Flaming Rose are located. The trading district was home to the richest and most important residents, where the municipal government and major markets were housed. The oldest part of the city, Old Vizima, has recently been converted into a ghetto for non-human races.

They passed a fruit stand, the only way to her house. The street vendor who was about to finish work saw Verya's arrival, his eyes lit up, he hurried over, holding a cloth bag in his hand: "Ms. Verya! Ms. Verya! Please accept this!"

"No, Anthony. We've talked a lot, and you don't have to keep sending me these apples. I know you're in a small business. Listen, take it back, I really don't need..."

They talked for a long time about a bag of apples, and Verya finally accepted it. Anthony looked quite happy about it, he had been giving Virya apples for nearly two years, and insisted not to return it. It's just because Virya helped his wife when she had a difficult childbirth.

"Goodbye, ma'am. May Goddess Meritelli bless you with a long life!" The man ran back to his booth gleefully, happier than he had made a lot of money.

Anderson silently followed behind Verya, who looked like a shadow, or something. He doesn't speak or make any sound. There was hardly even a sound of footsteps on the flagstone with his boots. He just silently followed his strange mother, trying to understand everything about where she lived.

Verya took out an apple from the cloth bag, wiped it with her sleeve, and handed it to him: "Eat one, Anderson. There shouldn't be any apples in Kyle Morhan."

"Uh, okay, mother...but how did you know about Kyle Morhan?"

Verya winked at him. At this time, she looked quite like her younger self, and her vitality came back: "I'm a university professor and a scholar. Anderson, of course I know Kyle Mohan."

Anderson took a bite, sweet. He had never eaten this fruit, but it was delicious. He couldn't tell if it was because of the fruit itself, or because it was handed by his mother.

They walked for a while,

Turning to the front of a two-story villa, this is Virya's home. It was given to her by a wealthy businessman because she helped the wealthy businessman cure a chronic disease for free.

"Do you live alone?" Anderson asked suddenly while standing in front of the villa.

"Yes what's the matter?"

Anderson was silent, he grabbed Verya and dragged her behind him. Unexplained, Verya's eyes widened, and she saw two arrows falling on the place where she was standing.

The young boy let out a roar that was both human and inhuman, and Verya saw another arrow pierce his shoulder. But Anderson didn't seem to feel the pain at all, his cat eyes glowing in the dark, baring his teeth like an enraged wolf.

He picked up a stone from the ground and kicked open the iron door outside the villa with one foot, with such force that the iron railing on the door was tilted. Immediately afterwards, he threw the stone out, a scream came from the roof, a man fell down, and his head was smashed open. Anderson picked up the dagger on his body and guarded Verya firmly behind him.

He heard the heavy footsteps of three people behind him, and the sound of the sword colliding with the scabbard. He could hear his own heart beating louder and louder, and the little screams of unease with his mother. He glanced at his mother and saw that she was biting her lip, picking up the crossbow from the man's body and holding it in her hand.

He smiled a little, then turned around, the short sword flashed like a silver lightning in the moonlight, bringing death. First, the man who rushed towards him had his neck cut in an instant. Anderson saw the second man, tall with a mace in his hand. Anderson turned his body slightly, allowing his right hand holding the sword to stretch out longer, and at the same time squatted down.

"Uh-!" The strong man screamed, and he fell to the ground clutching his crotch. Anderson stepped over him and kicked him hard on the neck. With a click, his head was tilted to a fatal angle. The last image I saw before his death was Anderson running towards his companion's back.

Facing the third man, without words, he just pierced his abdomen with a simple straight thrust, then rotated his wrist and swiped down hard.

The hot intestines and organs were exposed, blood splashed, and many stained Anderson's face. He wiped a handful of blood on his face expressionlessly, turned his head to look at the villa, and the two men standing on the roof had already run away. They moved quickly, leaving only the corpses on the ground and Anderson and Verya standing in a pool of blood.

After a moment.

Inside the villa.

With a pale face, Verya cut off the arrow with a dagger, and took out part of the shaft that remained in his shoulder. She touched the muscles near the wound distressedly, and got a shiver. But Anderson remained silent, as if it wasn't him who was pierced by the arrow in the shoulder.

Alcohol disinfection, white cloth bandage. Verya has done all this very skillfully. Anderson put on his blood-stained shirt and said, "It's not safe here, mother. I want you to come back with me."

"I know...but I didn't expect them to actually dare to do it."

There was fear on Verya's face, and then turned to anger. She didn't know why Anderson was so skilled with his swordsmanship, but she knew one thing. If Anderson wasn't so powerful, then it wasn't just her who died today, but also the child she hadn't seen in 16 years and had just met again.

Under the candlelight, the woman with scars on her face looked like a she-wolf with fangs and claws: "I want them to pay the price."