Serious person, who is learning magic in Marvel?

Verya went out. She had to get to the college before two o'clock in the afternoon, otherwise she would probably miss Professor Phyllis's history class. He never waited for late students. And if you are late, then you will only

I can now stand outside the classroom and listen to lectures.

Many students had complained against him, but they were scolded back by the old man. The principal didn't care much about his affairs, after all, he was the only one in the school who studied at Oxenfurt University when he was young.

Verya walked on the street empty-handed. She had no books to use now. Those people tore up Verya's books after class and said some very unpleasant words to her. Verya did not take this seriously.

, as the daughter of a businessman, she has long been accustomed to being bullied in college.

Thinking like this, she touched the scar on her face, which spread from the left side of her face to the right side. It often hurt. But she had begun to become familiar with the scar, just like she was getting used to being bullied.

The girl didn't lower her head, she just walked on the street with the scar on her head.

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Geralt ate beans intermittently. He had already finished the mashed potatoes and the bowl of broth. But he never liked beans, but for the money he spent, he had to eat them even if he didn't want to. The owner of the hotel had already

Back at the bar, while wiping his wine glasses, Geralt actually doubted whether anyone would come here at night. Those part-time hotel bars with a booming business would invite a dozen girls in short skirts to the bar.

There are many people who criticize them and think that this is the beginning of the corruption. But in the face of money, everything is false.

"Excuse me," he said, "bring me a bottle of Vizima."

When the young man heard this, he was troubled: "Guest, we don't have the wine you want here. We only have home-brewed ale. Do you want it?"

Geralt said nonchalantly: "Okay, how much will it cost?"

"8 crowns."

Geralt, who was about to pay for it, paused. He was a little surprised by the cheap price, but if he didn't drink it, it would be nothing. He added, "Then let's have another bottle."

He took out sixteen crowns, placed them in a row on the table, and waited for the young man to bring him wine. The witcher didn't think he could do much in this city, and the people here didn't seem to have any trouble with monsters.

.If he can't receive the commission to kill monsters, he can only accept the commission to lift the curse. This kind of commission is what Geralt hates the most. Most of them take a long time and require a lot of effort.

Be careful every step of the way, it's not like killing a water ghost... Why did I think of going up to the water ghost again?

The demon hunter was in a daze. He began to wonder if it was because he had killed too many water ghosts. At this moment, the young man came over and interrupted his thinking. He handed over two bottles of wine. The thick glass bottles contained orange juice.

Yellow ale.

Geralt observed it for a while, then opened the cork and smelled it. A smile appeared on his lips under the hood - 8 crowns can buy such a wine, which is really a lot of money.

He poured out the first glass, drank it in one gulp, wiped the foam from his mouth, and simply took the bottle and started drinking. In this way, he sat there all afternoon and drank up all the young man's stock. The wine was

No matter how low the alcohol content is, it is still wine. Geralt's somewhat confused mind could still remember that at first he just wanted to have a taste - just like all drunkards, they all told themselves this.

I'll just take a sip.

Then the second bite, the third -- never ending, never ending.

In some ways, drinking alcohol is addictive, just like many other things.

Such as hurting others.

We all know that some people - I don't know if I should call them people - just get pleasure from hurting other people.

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Vierya was thrown to the ground violently. A group of young people stood opposite her. The leader of the group was a blond young man who bent down. He had an ugly pot head with bangs covering his eyebrows. His face was full of freckles and his nose was still wet.

It's crooked to one side.

He yelled at her: "Didn't I tell you not to come to school again? You idiot! Women just stay at home and do what you should do!"

"Look at her look. She actually wants to sit in the same classroom with us?"

There was ridicule and ridicule from behind the blond young man, but Virya was not moved at all. She sat on the dirt road, gathered up her skirt, lifted up the red hair from her forehead, and said calmly: "No

, you just think I'm easy to bully. Miss Beth also goes to this school, why don't you tell her what you just said? I bet you don't dare to do that, Yolton."

The face of the blond young man named Yolton turned red. He immediately wanted to show off to this ignorant girl, but was stopped by his companion. The blond young man gave him a hint.

All the anger that had been rising was extinguished at once, and he saw an old man with white hair standing behind the girl. He didn't say anything, he just stood there with a thick book in his hand.

"Are you OK?"

After they ran away, the old man gave Verya a hand and pulled her up from the muddy road. Verya's linen skirt was now covered with mud, and the old man's green eyes under his glasses swept across her face, and his gaze paused.

After a pause: "...Did they do this to you?"

"No, Professor Phyllis, it has nothing to do with them."

Wilya tried her best to keep her appearance, she didn't want to show any weakness: "Thank you for your help, Professor, I'm going back."

A fleeting smile appeared on her face, then she lowered her head and left quickly.

Professor Phyllis stood behind her, with deep confusion and confusion on his face. He didn't know who would do such a thing. But since the girl didn't want to say it, he didn't stand to stick to it. The old man shook his head.

He shook his head and left the academy.

Verya did not go home as she said. After walking out of the college, she turned left and right and walked into an alley. There stood a tall and thin man with a pockmarked face and a dagger in his waist. She saw Verya.

When he arrived, he laughed twice maliciously: "Hey, look who is coming?"

Wilya raised her head, her blue eyes showing no fear: "I'm here to get money."

The tall and thin man frowned, then relaxed, and he showed that smile again: "I made it very clear to you last time, Miss Werya. That is the money your father owes us. I thought you had this look on your face.

The scar should help you remember a little longer."

"I have seen my father's account book. He only owed you five hundred crowns. After you took it back, you took an extra hundred crowns. I don't care about his death, but you must pay back the extra money."

The tall and lanky man's face gradually became impatient. He was about to open his mouth to explain something, but was interrupted by the actions of his companion - his companion jumped out of the darkness and hit the girl on the head with a wooden stick in his hand.

On the back of her head, she fainted.

"What the hell are you doing?!"

The tall and thin man shouted.

"Knock her out, you idiot, can't you see? She has come here to see us four times, and the scratches on her face didn't make her retreat last time. How can we give her any money? If we let the boss

Knowing that we are collecting debts behind his back, are we still alive?"

The tall and thin man was persuaded and scratched his face: "Well, that's what you said, but what do you do now? She will definitely not give up when she wakes up. Let's run away?"

"run?"

His companion, a strong man with flaxen hair, let out a muffled laugh and saliva spurted out of his mouth. He said: "No, carry her to the back room and lock her there. Let's still do this."

It can save money.”

The tall and thin man shuddered: "No, Rawls, I won't do such a thing. I believe in the goddess Meriteri, so you can do it yourself."

Rawls laughed again, nodded, and the moment the tall and thin man turned his head, he waved the wooden stick and smashed his head. The red and white ones scattered all over the floor, and some even splashed on his face.

, Rawls scratched off his nose with his fingers and laughed, dragging the unconscious Vierya deep into the alley.