The Divine Hunter

The first ray of white light has just been released from the horizon, and the Niubao Market has begun to operate in a busy and orderly manner.

The dense crowd of people kept moving. There were coachmen driving ox carts full of goods, Lifu shirtless dragging carts, and more often the townspeople of Osenfurt rushing to the morning market with vegetable baskets shoulder to shoulder.

The smell of sweat, vegetables, meat, and other irritating odors is here, but before I can cover my nose, the ears of pedestrians are occupied by the messy sounds, the shouts of market hawkers, the sounds of red-faced bargaining, people who blow their noses and spit. Sounds, the groans of livestock, the cries of children...

"Roy, how long will it be?" Ms. Zerican frowned.

"Be patient, Cantila, I'll be there in a minute."

Roy glanced at the ledger in his hand, and then with the strength far beyond ordinary people, he gently pushed away the fat man with a big belly and sweaty body. Before the other party turned around with an angry face, he pulled Cantila's He slipped his hand into the crowd.

"But in such a messy situation..." The witcher threw a few copper coins into the hands of the hawker whose nose and eyes were red with smoke, and neatly grabbed two strings of charcoal-grilled squid from his stall, revealing his mouth full of neatness. White teeth, biting into the elastic octopus meat, and handing another skewer to the woman, "There is nothing more comfortable than a delicious skewer of grilled octopus."

Cantila ate a piece of octopus, was carried by the surging crowd and walked a few steps forward, and suddenly asked curiously,

"Um...Roy, you...uu...how can you maintain high energy and focus all the time? Don't you need to relax? Not long ago was involved in trouble in the baronies, and now it's involved in the messy disappearance of Osenfurt events, don't you feel... um... tired?"

Cantila couldn't help thinking of the process of investigating with Oaks yesterday. In her eyes, the room was empty and unsurprising, but the witcher easily found a lot of clues, and even directly locked the identity of the murderer.

Calm and efficient, like a sophisticated instrument.

If it weren't for this period of time, I would witness the "deep friendship" between several people who made fun of each other and quarrelled with each other.

She would probably believe the rumored description that the witcher's feelings were wiped out by the mutation, and the mood swings were very slight.

The guy in front of him fits the rumor, otherwise, why would he always reject her gestures and be completely indifferent.

Roy swallowed the roasted octopus whole, patted off the oil on his hands, smiled charmingly, and asked without answering, "As a Zerican, what do you think an ideal life should be like?"

"Continue to challenge powerful monsters and tattoo more honors!" Ms. Zerekan said without hesitation.

"Similarly, accepting various and strange commissions and earning a living by commission remuneration is also one of the ideal living conditions of a witcher. We are born to eat this bowl of rice, and we will not get bored before retirement. At most, reduce the frequency. "

…

"Come here and have a look! Sea fish, fresh river! Just caught this morning, fresh and cheap!"

In front of a large fish tank, a hooded fishmonger with a skinny monkey-like figure shouted loudly at the passers-by.

His face was pitted by the sea breeze, and his skin was reddish-brown.

"Trout, sturgeon, fathead...crab, octopus, lobster. As long as you swim in the water, you can have everything you want!"

"Longrick?"

A short and clear voice came from the crowd, and a figure suddenly appeared in front of the fishmonger. He was dressed in strong clothes, with a lean body and an indifferent expression. The dark gold eyes were as terrifying as a wolf, making his heart tremble.

The shrewd fishmonger suddenly rolled his eyes, lowered his posture and nodded and said, "Sir, what's your name? Do you want to buy fish? Langric pledged with his life that the fish I sell will definitely be in the market. Cheapest and freshest!"

"I'm not interested in fish." The witcher looked at the surrounding environment. In the sea, in the Pontar River, all kinds of strange fish, shrimp and crabs were swimming lively in the fish tank.

This is undoubtedly the largest aquatic product shop in the entire market.

"Ask you something... Does Whishaw know him?"

"Why are you asking this?"

"Don't worry about that."

"Sorry," the hawker said vigilantly, "Although my identity is low, I pay attention to my reputation in doing business, and I will never disclose the identity information of customers easily!"

He emphasized "easy".

The witcher and the lady beside him exchanged glances and smiled,

"How about a pound of fathead fish?"

"Okay!" The hawker smiled happily, but still emphasized, "You are welcome to buy fish, but I'm sorry I can't answer your question, leaking customer information is breaking the rules! If you break the rules, who would dare to do business with me? "

"How about two pounds of fathead?"

The fishmonger was stubbornly unmoved.

"Then get ten pounds!" The witcher said helplessly. If it weren't for the crowd, he would definitely reward the other party with an Aksifa seal, so that he and the lobster could get closer to each other.

After hearing this, the fishmonger was obviously moved, but he still had some scruples in his words, "You are asking for customer information, aren't you trying to grab business from me?"

"You think I'm a fish seller?" the witcher asked sullenly.

Standing on the fish tank, Langric rubbed his chin and took a serious look, "You're like the thugs of the local snakes, you are younger and handsome than them!"

"Then are you selling it or not?!"

"Sell! Ten pounds is ten pounds, anyway, that guest hasn't come to patronize for a while!" The fishmonger gritted his teeth, "But you have to pay first and give two crowns."

…

"Whishaw is a big customer..." The fishmonger flipped the small purse and put it in his arms, "For the past six months, he has come to my fish stall every other day to buy about a hundred pounds of fresh fish! But a week ago Suddenly disappeared...another Cowburg student took over his purchasing duties."

The witcher thought about it, and the other should be Whishaw's roommate, Linus Pitt's assistant, Ben.

Is there an invisible rivalry between Whishaw and Ben?

"Having been in business for more than half a year, you must be very familiar with him, right?" Roy asked.

"Just barely, it's okay." The fishmonger said calmly, his relationship with Whishaw didn't seem to be as close as the witcher expected.

"What do you think of Whishaw's personality and temperament? Don't lie!" Roy pointed the three fat-headed fish strung with hay in his hand to the hawker, and Dark Gold's pupils shrunk into diamond shapes.

"Otherwise you'll enjoy three whole fish 'sashimi' in a minute."

The fishmonger's skinny body trembled. Although the witcher was young, his pale gums and fierce eyes made him inexplicably frightened, and he had seen many customers from all walks of life. Creepy murderousness.

"Don't worry, my lord, I'll give you the answer when you buy fish. It's a fair trade, and the old man is not deceived!"

He seemed to have forgotten the fact that he betrayed customers for ten pounds of fathead.

The witcher nodded, "Go on."

"Whishaw...how to say, he gave me the impression that he was taciturn, dead-headed, and didn't know how to be flexible!" The fishmonger's complaints were undisguised, "I called him less than one fish several times. He is unwilling to be a little accommodating when it comes to the difference in pounds, one hundred pounds is one hundred pounds, and he feels that he is not allowed to be short of jins or two."

"But he is quite loyal to his employer. Every transaction is honestly recorded in the ledger. I have glanced at it occasionally, and he definitely didn't play any tricks!"

The witcher nodded, and the peddler's description matched Linus' description.

"A week ago, he did his last business trip with you, did he behave abnormally?"

The hawker thought about it for a moment, "He said that he wanted to go back to his hometown to do some business, and it was estimated that he would miss a business trip, but now he has missed three trips, and the three trips were all done by another young man... Although it is also very neat, but a week I miss him even if I didn’t see him, this gentleman, can you ask, where did Whishaw go?”

Roy stared into the hawker's eyes and examined it for a long time, until the latter couldn't help but look away, "You don't need to know his whereabouts, just think again, some time ago, did Whishaw talk to anyone in the market? Who is arguing, there is a festival?"

"Dispute?" The hawker stared wide-eyed, froze for a few seconds, and then shook his head.

"Then who has inquired about Whishaw from you?"

"Are you kidding me, my lord?" The fishmonger raised his chin at the witcher. "Aren't you the one asking?"

"Except us..." Roy's tone turned cold.

There was obvious hesitation on the other side's demeanor,

"Looks like you know something!" Roy's heart moved, and the fat-headed fish in his hand was simply used as a swordsman. When his wrist shook, he flicked a sword flower, poked the fish's head forward, and the fish's mouth, which was still opening and closing, almost kissed Lang. Rick's mouth,

"Answer me quickly!"

"Ouch, please put it down!" The fishmonger tilted his neck back in a strange posture, sighed, and smiled bitterly, "Why do we have such a hard life in business, no one dares to offend me! Don't threaten me with fish, I tell you it's not enough."

The witcher then removed the "fish head sword".

"It's not a big deal. It's just that a few local ruffians came to ask about Whishaw." He explained, "Having a big deal without interruption for half a year, everyone would be curious... They just asked casually." The fishmonger's eyes flickered.

"Ask what you want?" the witcher sneered, suspicious of the fishmonger. "Are you sure they're not malicious?"

"I don't understand you."

"It doesn't matter, let's talk about it, who are those ruffians?"

"This guest, I'm not doing your business anymore, I'll give you the money back! Give me the fish back!" The fishmonger shook his head desperately with panic on his face.

"Are you sure?" The witcher's voice fell, and the fat-headed fish in his hand turned into a meteor and stuffed it into the hawker's mouth.

Wrists twitched quickly, squirming like brushing teeth.

The fishmonger was grabbed by the witcher's arm, unable to struggle, rolled his eyes, screamed "uuu", blushed, and nodded desperately until he was almost out of breath.

The witcher took a deep breath and let go.

"Pfft! Cough cough... woo woo..." The fishmonger was full of tears and snot, "You're cruel! I said, I said it all."

…

A quarter of an hour later, Roy and Cantila left the fish stall contentedly, taking twenty pounds of fathead fish, and he bought another ten pounds as an apology for the offense just now.

"Golfing has to eat for a while..."

"Could it be the hands of two gangsters? According to the frequency of Whishaw's purchases, every few days, half a year, it would be thousands of pounds, even if you count the cheapest fat head fish, there are hundreds of them. Crown. It's not a small sum of money, and it's rich—"

They learned from the fishmongers that the two gangsters who had inquired about Whishaw were unemployed vagabonds living around Ossenfort. They were stubborn and lazy. They would enter the market every few days to harass the merchants. Idea managed to extort so-called protection money.

He seemed to be a member of some gang organization, with dozens of brothers standing behind him. The fishmongers did not share the same cause with them, but did not dare to tell the truth because they were afraid of retaliation by this group of people.

However, this group of people has always been petty and dare not go too far.

I haven't heard of the robbery and murder.

"There is indeed a big suspicion... It's a pity that they didn't come to the market this morning. Otherwise, if they find out and confront them, they may be able to get to the bottom of it."

"Is it possible that another assistant who is currently in charge of procurement is Ben?"

"Ben? Let's be in charge of that, and he'll know exactly."

…

Later, the two went to another butcher shop recorded in the ledger to ask again, and the answers they got were similar to those of the fishmongers.

At present, it seems that the biggest suspect is the group of idle gangsters.