Serious People, Who is Learning Magic at Marvel?
Twenty-five. Bad taste (end)
The blade slashed through the air, and Geralt heard the sound of breaking through the air. He likes this sound, but prefers another sound.
That is, the sound of steel cutting flesh.
The first corpse was cut open by him, and the runes on the silver sword played its due role. It was superimposed with the curse oil that was good in the morning, so that this silver sword that was not very outstanding played a role. Terrible power. The skins of the corpses were hissed by the scalding of the silver sword, and the rotting bones and flesh were burned red in an instant.
But it didn't feel very good. If Geralt said it, he felt like cutting leather boots. It felt very hard and very thick.
"Go to the back, Mr. Gustave, we'll deal with you later--by the way, I don't know--"
Geralt even thought about interjecting, and he dodged a corpse baby's flying pounce in the interval: "—Are you lying, if so, then your acting skills are really amazing."
Gustav hid behind with a pale face, not in the mood to talk to him. He watched the witcher kill all those corpses in three minutes, as if chopping melons and vegetables, while the woman was still screaming, huddled in the corner, shivering.
Geralt waved his silver sword in disgust, letting blood spill from the sword. He felt sorry for the woman, but he didn't like the sound of her screaming.
But it was a natural reaction, like it was going to rain... so Geralt didn't say anything.
"Come on, it's your turn, Mr. Gustave."
He Shenyan appeared behind him at some point and patted his shoulder with his hand. This familiar scene made Gustav's blood almost stiff. He turned around and looked at the black eyes of this oriental man with blue light, and fear came to his mind again.
"You told us a wonderful story a few hours ago, and now I'd like to hear an even better one."
-------------------------------------
Gustave's name has not changed, he is still called Gustave la Valédi. But the identity is different, he is no longer Anna's brother, but her... seller.
——To be honest, this title actually surprised Geralt.
As we all know, slavery was abolished hundreds of years ago. First, because people can't even support themselves, it is impossible to have money to support slaves. Second, the world at that time was very unstable. One out of every five newborns could be a natural spellcaster. There have been many records in history that slave owners were killed by lightning or fireballs...
Coupled with the spread of the belief in the goddess Meritelli, this belief in the goddess, which hopes that people will move towards truth, goodness and beauty, without asking for anything in return, soon became popular in the entire human group and even in the world. In some places where the social atmosphere is strict, let alone stealing, even swearing will be regarded as a person with low morals.
In this day and age, there are still people who think they can be the masters of others?
Geralt's mind was a little confused, and the kind of sincerity Gustav had shown earlier made him instinctively feel that something was wrong - doesn't it make sense? He performed flawlessly...
He Shenyan was much more determined than the witcher's head full of question marks. Well, not too sure. He didn't use mind-reading on Gustav, nor did he flip through his memories. At least not now, so this kind of plot of digging through the cocoon and discovering the exact opposite truth makes him feel quite...
strangeness.
So this is what it's like to be mortal? Mage thought.
At this moment, Gustav was sitting on the ground with a pale face, telling a series of facts at a very fast rate-this is not the first time he has done this kind of thing, this is a fairly large human trafficking organization. They sell from the south to the north, and from the north to the south. The structure is tight and the members are either rich or expensive.
Gustav did have a military background and did share a surname with the current king of Temeria,
But there are discounts. His father was a remote branch of the La Valédi family, with a baronial title and a small territory. His military career lasted less than a year before he was forced to retire.
Because he wants his son to inherit his father's business.
The old baron also did this, with a large number of retired veterans in the army, and even three former members of the intelligence organization. Gustav was trained by them for three years when he came home, and now he is part of this huge organization.
'Scavenger'.
Back and forth between cities, dedicated to cleaning up those runaway slaves.
He Shenyan noticed that Geralt's eyes were becoming more and more dangerous as Gustav narrated. He knew his friend well and knew what his character was. In fact, Geralt's brain structure can be explained.
Thirty percent sense of justice, twenty percent wine, thirty percent passion for his lovers. As for the remaining 20%, that is his profession.
Geralt is definitely not a qualified witcher. He has done commissions without receiving money more than once, and he has done some deviant things because of a momentary sense of justice. That's why he became He Shenyan's friend.
"Don't worry, Geralt." He Shenyan said softly. "Mr. Gustave may be a bastard, but he's still a nobleman, and you haven't forgotten the strange question I asked him?"
"I remember."
Geralt answered in place of Gustav, and at the same time, he erected the cold silver sword and placed it on Gustav's throat. The cold-eyed witcher asked, "Are you proud of your last name, Mr. Gustav? Does it make you proud?"
"Wait! Don't kill me yet!"
Gustav screamed, as if strangled by the throat, but he dared not move, and said stiffly, "I know I'm damned, I know, I know it all, gentlemen. I was born into this family, I grew up on the food of the La Valédi family, and what my father asked me to do, could I still disobey him?"
He tried to defend himself in pale words: "Listen, gentlemen, I'm just a little man. I'm just one of the most trivial branches of the king's family, think about it, gentlemen. I'm sure standing behind me. Bigger task, are you right? Kill me, you won't be better off!"
"Mr. Mage!"
Gustav said loudly to He Shenyan: "I apologize for my stupidity before, I didn't even realize that you were a mage until I was in the sewers! But it doesn't matter, you are a mage! I know a few Sirs of the Brotherhood of Warlocks, they are mages just like you!"
"Don't kill me, as long as you don't kill me, I can introduce you to them! I can even provide you with money, as long as you don't kill me, research materials, venues, funds - everything I can give you! "
"There's one more thing I'd really like to know than that, Mr. Gustave."
He Shenyan asked softly, "Research materials, venues, funds... Where did you get all this money?"
He raised his hand and pointed to the woman who was still huddled in the corner of the square, whose name was unknown, but was just called Anna by Gustav. Blue light flashed in his eyes again.
Gustav crawled back, trembling all over.
"You use them for profit." He Shenyan walked towards him. "Well, let me ask you the second question, as long as you can answer it, I'll let you go, how?"
"You call her Anna - I don't care if that's her real name, I just want to know, where did you bring her to Vizima? In other words, this item in your eyes, her country of origin Where?" He Shenyan asked with a half-smile.
Gustav did not answer.
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Geralt walked out of the room indignantly, still reeking of the sewer. And the woman lying in the room, whom he carried in with his own hands, was clean, and she was sleeping. The witcher was silent for a while, and sat on He Shenyan's sofa without saying a word.
"I Have a Scroll of Ghosts and Gods"
"Oh, come on, Geralt."
He Shenyan sighed: "I don't mind you taking my seat. But you have to at least take a shower and change your clothes."
"I can't believe it," Geralt said coldly. "1263—! God damn it, in 1263, this is still Vizima of Temeria, and there is such a thing? These beasts!"
"You have to believe it if you don't believe it."
The mage shrugged and simply pulled over a chair and sat down. He is the kind of person who can sit and never stand: "Mr. Gustave's words are true. You shouldn't forget what I did to him later?"
"...Next time if you use that spell, at least let me know and don't let me see it."
"What's wrong?"
Geralt's lips twitched a few times before he spit out a sentence: "If you're going to make a dead man speak, you should at least glue his torn head together? God, his jaw is cracked into three pieces, and it still remains. Can move..."
"It's strange that you should feel sick. You're a witcher."
"Yeah! Demon Hunter!" Geralt emphasized. "Magic! Not human! Where have I seen such a scene?"
He Shenyan shook his head: "Anyway, let's settle this lady first. I know someone who should be able to help her."
"Who?"
"This person you've seen before..."
He Shenyan stood up from his chair and walked to the door of the apartment. Geralt heard light footsteps in his ears, and then the mage opened the door. A woman whose appearance had changed but was still recognized by him stood in front of the door, wearing the same black robe as He Shenyan.
"My apprentice, Andrea." He smiled and turned to let Andrea in. "Come on, Andrea, there's a poor lady here who needs your help."
"And then?" the witcher asked.
"And then? We'll have to get busy after that, Geralt. Didn't you listen to Gustav? They're all over the world."
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