Serious People, Who is Learning Magic at Marvel?

"What's there to ask? You killed him, that's all. I want you to be burned in hell for ten thousand years after you die! You mutant freak who doesn't understand art, you know you killed a man with your own hands. An artist who has the instinct to make a name for himself, bastard!" Hawthorne yelled at him, regardless of his current situation.

He suppressed the emotions in his heart and said calmly: "Let's not mention whether I will go to hell or not. If I am here, then you must be there, and it will be much earlier than me. Hawthorne."

"Now, let's talk about Cronin Gregory."

"No way, let me tell you, you white-haired bastard with cat eyes, did your mother make you out of a cat, huh? You..."

Geralt was not in the mood to listen to him and continued to scold him. The seal of Axifa was fleeting, and Alphonse's face became dull. Geralt asked, "Did you send someone to kill Cronin Gregory?"

"not me."

"Do you know who it is?"

"Clerk Carlyle Vinson."

"why?"

There was only numbness in Hawthorne's eyes, he was like a question-and-answer machine, just answering the witcher's question: "Cronin is playing with fire, he wants to remove the Novigrad councillors, he thinks so It can make the poor better... For his family's sake, most of the MPs didn't say anything, because he couldn't succeed. But his unabashed approach still annoyed Carlyle Vinson, who I've blocked my threats back several times...I don't want Cronin to die, he's a promising painter..."

How ironic.

The witcher sighed slightly. He had seen countless miracles in his long life, but if there were to be a list, this one must be on the list, and it would be at the forefront.

The congressman who was supposed to give the citizens a better life wanted to kill an innocent young man, but the gang boss with blood on his hands wanted to protect him.

Geralt continued, "His family? Is that Gregory?"

Damn, should have realized that before.

"Yes."

It was only then that the witcher realized that he might have unknowingly been involved in a political whirlpool again.

The Gregory family can be traced back to three hundred years ago, when there was a wealthy businessman named Gregory. There was a famine in Novigrad, so Gregory donated half of his fortune to import food from Nazer, and he saved the city and kept countless people alive. After his death, he was enshrined as a saint. No one can change his position, not even the big and small religions and councillors in the city. Even today, Novigrad still has a magnificent bridge named after him, the Bridge of St. Gregory, connecting the Temple Island and the main city. Every day countless people come to pay their respects to his statue in the middle of the bridge.

But he didn't have a choice, whether it was personal feelings or mixed feelings after hearing what Cronin Gregory had done, he was determined to do it to the end.

"What do you know about this Carlyle Vincent?"

"He is the most promising member of the mayor this term... He has a rich family in the mining business. There are several mages around him to protect him. I tried to attack him several times without success..."

Gee, sorcerer.

Geralt asked again, "Where does the Gregory family live?"

"They don't live in the city... Gregory's descendants moved out in the turmoil seventy years ago, go straight out the gate and you can see a large field... there is where they live now."

After asking what he wanted to know, Geralt managed to make Hawthorne pass out—a rough way, maybe, but he didn't care. In his opinion, ten times Hawthorne's death is not enough, what this guy has done can make the devils quarrel in hell for the right to his soul.

And Hawthorne's revenge afterwards, he didn't take it seriously at all. As long as this mob boss has some brains,

He wouldn't have come to trouble the witcher, and by the time he woke up and figured out where he was, the witcher would have been done by then.

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When the witcher returned home late that night, the blood all over his body had dried up. Taking off his armor and boots, he sat opposite He Shenyan and began to clean up the bloodstains left on the sword. The black-robed mage looked up at him from the book and asked, "Is it cool to go out and kill during the day?"

"Not bad," the witcher replied.

"You're out in town today, even people like me who don't go out can hear someone in the street yelling 'Witcher is making a fuss about Hawthorne Casino', Hawthorne, why did he bother himself Such a name?"

"He may think it's an honor. People are afraid of him and scold him, but he doesn't take it seriously, but uses it as his nickname, which makes him stronger and better at doing things."

"Sometimes I think you're a bit of a philosopher."

Geralt looked at his own eyes on Gang Jianjian, and he said, "No, I am a mutant killer who has no feelings and is ruthless."

"Well...you're also very good at telling bad jokes."

The witcher's smile flickered, and he said lightly, "The young man died, and he drew me a second picture of that."

"Oh."

The black-robed mage put down the book and said seriously, "If you need help, just let me know."

"No need, He, my work has been done."

The witcher replied, flashing through his mind what he saw when he went to House Gregory this afternoon. They were all withered, and the gray-haired old woman almost fainted when she saw her. After Geralt explained her intentions, she calmed down again. Orderly began to command people, and orders were issued by her.

Geralt knew that either the councilor—or the Gregory family, would be completely destroyed.

He hoped it was the former.

But then again, what can he do as a witcher? True, he can kill some monsters and destroy the gang in a leisurely manner. But MPs and big local families are another concept. Wealth is often more terrible than sword.

"It seems that you are moving quite fast..." The black-robed mage smiled, and then said seriously: "No, Geralt. I have a hunch that this matter will not end like this."

"what?"

The black-robed mage said softly: "Although I don't know what you did...but just before you came back, three or four groups of city guards had run through the streets outside. I guess if it was just They shouldn't be running so fast on patrol. And some strangers started to haunt around our house."

After saying this, he picked up the book and continued to read, leaving only the last sentence: "It's not over yet, Geralt."

The witcher closed his eyes and began to think of the painter's body again in his mind. He opened his eyes and said, "Yes, it's not over yet."