Serious People, Who is Learning Magic at Marvel?

Latest Website: Geralt rubbed his sore shoulders and sat on the chair. This is what happens when the sword is carried for too long. He is already considering whether to find a tailor to change the style of the armed belt. The one he is using now hurts his shoulders.

The hotel they live in is newly opened and business is very good. This is also inseparable from the boss's mind. There are four floors here. The top two floors are hotels, the second floor is a brothel, and the first floor is a pub - I have to admit, this four-in-one is really smart.

He deserves his money.

The mage sat across from him with a calm expression and his hands on the table. The palms were pressed together, and a little blue light poured out of them.

Geralt looked at the blue dots that disappeared quickly, and asked softly, "This spell takes you so long to prepare?"

"The ceremony is very simple, Geralt." He Shenyan replied seemingly easily. "But the difficulty is to find that precise point in the long river of time... Just like fishing is not difficult, the difficulty is how to attract the fish, and the waiting process."

"Fishing..."

Geralt's thoughts were drawn to another aspect, and he sighed with a little longing: "It's true that I haven't fished for a long time. The last time I fished was... three years ago?"

"Please, if you're going to talk about fishing, just talk about it, Geralt. Don't tell me who you're fishing with this time around."

"...Don't say it, don't say it."

Geralt smiled awkwardly, just as the waiter came to serve. It's a pretty hearty meal, a big pot of stew, wheel cheese from Vizima, fresh lamb shanks, and even a whole plate of special white bread with a bottle of East East.

Paid by the mage - he couldn't stand the roast venison and cheap dishes he ate along the way, and when he came to Novigrad, he had to have a good meal anyway.

After all, this is the Pearl of the North.

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Walpole Roin.

This name is quite familiar in the current Novigrad. As we all know, there are many beggars in this city. But no one wants to pay attention to them, unless you are the kind priestess of the goddess Meritelli.

Their eyes are cloudy, their eyes are dim,

Their bodies were covered with scars and abscesses. They don't have clean clothes, enough food, and naturally they don't have a shelter from the wind and rain.

However—they were actually the most well-informed messengers in the city of Novigrad.

"So, Mr. Alphonse is finally willing to forgive my debts?"

"Your debts have been forgiven long ago, Mr. Walpole Royin. It's a deal, one piece of news for three houses. It's a good deal anyway, isn't it?"

Inside a dilapidated wooden house, dim candles and the sunset rays shining through the wooden planks keep it bright. The two men were facing each other, sitting around the table.

One of them was a bald man—yes, that was Hawthorne's subordinate, Jack.

As for the other... this gentleman doesn't sell very well.

He has an exaggerated nose that takes up two-thirds of his ugly face. Plus a poor pair of small eyes, and a mouth full of rotten teeth. Beggars of beggars, their leader, Walpole Royin, is here.

He was smiling flatteringly, unaware that his own dignity was making it unpleasant: "Ah, Mr. Jack, this is the best. So what does Mr. Alphonse want to know?"

"At noon today, a witcher entered the city."

Jack was unmoved by his flattering and disgusting smile, and his bald-headed tone was so sensible that it was almost emotionless: "Mr. Alphonse wants to know where he lives—that's all, you don't need to be smart about anything else."

"that's it?"

"that's it."

Walpole Royin rubbed his palms. He wasn't suspicious, but he was smart. He knew he needed to ask one more question.

a crucial question.

"Mr. Jack, pardon me. But old Walpole has to know about it... Mr. Alphonse wants to know that this news has nothing to do with the Blades, right?"

Jack raised his head slightly.

The light made his jawline appear sharp, and half of the bald man's face was hidden in the darkness. The exposed right eye was staring at Walpole Royin, and then he slowly changed his sitting position. The body leans forward slightly, like a wolf with a head that chooses to devour.

small book booth

"You know what you're asking, Walpole," Jack asked coldly.

"Of course I know, Mr. Jack."

Walpole Royin continued to rub his palms, and his smile became more flattering—and even more disgusting: "Dear Mr. Alphonse has been in the city for so many years, he doesn't like the group of human traffickers of the Swordsmen, It's well known. But other people don't have a hard time with money, do you?"

"Mr. Jack, if this matter has anything to do with the Swordsmen, then I'm afraid I have to reject your proposal. No matter how much I want to go back to my three houses on the main square, I have to save my life for myself. Think about it. Mr. Alphonse could kill the Swordsmen, or even anyone in town, but I..."

"I'm just a small character, Mr. Jack." Walpole's smile turned bitter. "If I go against them, then I'm afraid I will appear under some land outside the city tomorrow."

Jack's back touched the back of the chair again, causing the tattered chair to let out an overwhelmed squeak. He said calmly: "Mr. Alphonse gave me an order for you to accept this offer."

His words made Walpole Luo Yin pursed his lips.

Jack continued: "I know it's hard for you, so I have another proposal."

He took a purse from his waist and put it on the table: "I always do two-handed preparations, and for now, Walpole. My second-hand preparations obviously come in handy."

"What do you mean...?"

"Go find someone under your command who is not afraid of death, or two - let him come to the casino to find me. This money is a deposit, and there is another part of the money after the news is received. This way, you can not participate in this matter, They have no reason to attack you."

"My lord, I don't understand, what's the difference between looking for someone under me and looking for me?"

"The difference is—" Jack held up a finger. "—he will die, not you. Got it?"

He put the document on the table, pushed it in Walpole's direction, then got up and left the room.

Walpole Royin's expression was very intriguing. After a while, he shouted out of the house, "Francis! Come in! There's a job for you!"