The Divine Hunter

The area near the canal in the southern part of Novigrad is completely different from the bustling commercial district on the other side. There are dark and narrow alleys surrounded by dilapidated and dense buildings. Sheets and changing clothes are cluttered on both sides of the road. The ground is full of potholes, Dirty water is flowing, and foul-smelling domestic garbage can be seen everywhere.

This is the slum in Novigrad, where the old Moore couple's house is located.

"Several masters, welcome." Old Moore had drank the potion, and his physical condition was much better than before, with a healthy blush on his face, with a smile on his face, "The house is simple, and there is nothing to entertain you, come in and sit casually. sit down."

"Have you forgotten, Serrit and I lived here for a while," Oaks took the lead in entering the door, and casually lay down on the tattered leather sofa against the wall in the living room, comfortably, "I think the house is very comfortable. Yes, at least it's more comfortable than sleeping with mosquitoes in weeds in the wild, and witchers aren't that particular."

The house is not big, and the area is equivalent to the guest room of an ordinary hotel, but it is especially empty. The furniture can be counted at a glance: a dining table, chairs, a candlestick, a worn leather sofa, and a vegetable and tableware placed against the wall. There are no shelves, two baskets, and even a special kitchen. In the center of the room, only a simple stove is built with stones picked up by the river, and a rusty iron pot is placed on it.

There are no other decorations in the whole house.

The second floor is divided into two bedrooms. The floor is covered with linen and blackened and yellowed cotton batting. Several sets of old linen clothes are casually hung on the clothesline by the windowsill. The most expensive thing is a A pair of wooden strollers.

This pattern made the young witcher feel familiar. It soon occurred to him that the furnishings in the house were exactly the same as those in Lower Aden.

Such a humble house can be rented for only a few kroner a month in the countryside, but when it is replaced by a free city with a lot of money, even in the slums, the price has doubled.

This amount of money is not much for a witcher with a lot of money, but it is a lot for the old Moore family, especially after being blackmailed by you, the little gangster.

In the name of purchasing food, Roy involuntarily gave Old Moore a sum of money, about 200 crowns, no matter how much more convenient it was. He can only find a way to slowly improve his parents' life in the city.

"In the past six months, we have left you a lot of letters, but unfortunately you have no fixed place with Master Lesuo. We really can't send them to you. Why don't you go upstairs with me now?"

Seeing Susie's loving face full of anticipation, Roy couldn't bear to feel what she meant, so he followed up to the second floor.

The rest of the witchers chatted in the lobby on the first floor.

"Have you noticed,

Since seeing his parents, Roy seems to have been out of shape," Oaks mused while nibbling on a crunchy turnip, "Poor child, is he at a loss, sad, or moved? "

"Family is a haven for relaxation of the mind, and the most precious thing in the world is to reunite with relatives after a long absence..." Serret analyzed in a philosopher's tone, "That kid is only fifteen years old, look at him, he will be later You will definitely cry."

"You underestimate him," Oaks and his brother disagreed, shaking their heads, "A mutant witcher isn't so sentimental?"

"Ox, it's hard for us to understand the feelings of ordinary people..." Serrit paused. He and Ox had been sent to the Viper School for as long as they could remember. They had never seen their relatives, and didn't even know their names.

Parents are just a meaningless symbol for them both. "But Roy has lived the life of an ordinary person for more than ten years, and now he has reunited with his relatives after a long absence. Judging from the reaction of normal people, he will definitely cry. He is just embarrassed in front of us."

"I don't think so, dare I bet? A hundred...twenty crowns!"

"I didn't expect you to hide so much private money from Roy..." Serret stared at Oaks' big face and smiled, "I agree, but I want to sit in the village, is there anyone else to participate? !"

"Add me one... I bet twenty crowns, and Roy will cry." Phrius's cold voice sounded, "I taught him swordsmanship for a while, and judging by his posture with the sword, this is a A sensitive, emotional guy who is easy to impress."

"Lord Owl, where did you get this crooked reasoning?" Cantila leaned over with a smile, the Zerekans have their own set of theories, "Tears are a sign of incompetence, I killed myself when I was thirteen years old. The first desert spider started, and there were no more tears. Roy has more souls than me, and he is a man, he will never cry! I bet ten crowns."

"Enough, let me stop!" Sitting on the sofa, Lesso couldn't help rubbing his temples and said angrily, "Make sure that today is a good day for Roy and his family to reunite, and you are still in the mood to watch jokes. , bet? As a comrade-in-arms of a school, can't you understand his mood?!"

Among the people present, only the little boy Carl was slightly dazed and melancholy, probably thinking of his parents who were killed by robbers.

The rest of the witchers were indifferent.

It's like a bunch of orphans.

"Cough cough..." Seeing that everyone had nothing to say, Lesuo touched his nose and changed his tone, "...I bet fifty crowns, my student is not as fragile as you think, he can't cry, no one can compare I know him better!"

...

A quarter of an hour later.

"Haha Mino, laugh, my brother will buy you some candy." The young witcher laughed and walked down the stairs while teasing the baby in his arms.

After a long talk with Aunt Susie, he simply stopped suppressing his feelings and let nature take its course.

However, halfway through, he found it was eerily quiet, and when he glanced at it, the eyes of several witchers downstairs were focused on him, as if they were examining the prisoner.

"Guys, what's going on?" Roy pouted at Resono, who nodded inexplicably, with a happy expression on his face, and Oaks and Cantila raised their chins proudly.

"Alas..." Phryus and Serrit sighed, their faces ashen. "Roy, what did you chat with your mother upstairs, so happy?" Serret pinched her index finger and thumb. "Aren't you a little sad and moved, and not a little urge to cry?"

"Cry, why are you crying?" Roy looked strange, and seemed to understand something after a while, and naturally confiscated the property of several witchers "gathering to gamble".

Not long after the old Moore finished shopping, he returned home. Surprisingly, there was a beautiful lady beside him, "Roy, several masters, let me introduce you, this beautiful lady is a famous minstrel. , Miss Vespra, from Cowell, and is currently visiting Novigrad."

"She lives in the small building next to our house and has written several letters for us. I think today is a rare opportunity, so I invite her over for lunch."

"Vespra, from Keville?" Roy looked at the plump young girl in front of him with blond hair hanging over her shoulders. The navy blue jacket and leggings supported her beautiful figure. The red hat gave her a touch of artistic temperament.

Roy had never heard of this name, but he always felt that the other party's appearance was very familiar. He seemed to have seen it somewhere, but he couldn't recognize it for a while.

"Miss Vesper, this is my son, Roy, a witcher, next to his teacher, Master Letho, Oakes..." Old Moore pointed to everyone and introduced them one by one.

Roy smiled and shook hands with the other party. Her palms were soft and boneless and flexible, but her fingertips were left with a layer of calluses due to frequent plucking of the strings, "Miss Vesper, I'm not here in Novigrad. For a while, thanks to you for helping to take care of my family, I am really grateful, and I will use it in the future, just say it!"

Vespere glanced at the five witchers, especially the bald man who was the tallest, with his muscles bulging so high that he couldn't see his neck. After a long pause, he covered his mouth in surprise.

"Master Roy, to be honest, today is the first time I have seen witchers with my own eyes, and there are five of them at one time..." Vesper did not hide her curiosity, "So I always thought that Uncle Moore and Aunt Susie's child is a mercenary."

"Aren't you disappointed, there is no fangs, an extra leg or arm, and no cannibalism." Oakes interjected with a smile.

"Although I have heard a lot of your legends from Keville's travels, at present, many of those rumors are untrue." Vespere chuckled, "At least the witcher is more humorous than the rumors. …”

...

A group of people gathered around the table to enjoy a meal cooked by Roy.

Potato goulash, cheese pancakes, cod bisque, marinated pork chops...

"My child, where did you learn the craftsmanship, it's more delicious than the chef at the Novigrad tavern. Could it be that the witcher has to learn this skill?" Susie slowly cooked a piece of soft stew. The rotten potatoes, full of seven or eight indescribable aromas, melted in his mouth, squinting his eyes in comfort, then turned curiously to Letho,

The bald guy who was playing against the Ox brothers made a move, lifted his face from the dinner plate, cleared his throat, and organized some words, "cough..." He felt that he couldn't say that it was because of his own pressure that he exercised it. Such an excellent cook.

"On the one hand, Roy has a talent for cooking, and on the other hand, we are often in the wild, and fresh food and raw materials are abundant. The interaction of the two has created Roy's great cooking skills!"

"I said it!" Oakes sucked a piece of pork chop into his mouth with a "suck" sound, spit out the bare bones, "In the future, Roy won't be able to do business as a witcher because of his old age. You can make a lot of money as a cook!"

"Hmm, um..." A group of people who were still digging in their heads suddenly pounded their heads like garlic.

"I'm just average, but I made some small improvements with reference to the innovative dishes of the Niubao Restaurant." Roy said with a rare modesty, but the slightly curved corners of his mouth still revealed his arrogance and self-satisfaction. .

"Master Roy, what they said is not an exaggeration at all," Wispra gracefully and calmly wiped the snow-white fish soup on the corner of her mouth, "I have attended the banquet of the royal family of Keville, and the dishes you cook are simple and simple, although the ingredients are simple. But it tastes better, and it’s a worthwhile trip to eat so much on this trip.”

Eat half of the meal.

"By the way, Roy," Old Moore hesitated, "the three little gangsters in the market... How did you deal with them?" When he was full, Old Moore remembered the biggest hidden danger.

"Just a little lesson." Leto jumped ahead and explained vaguely, "It's not a big problem to be alive."

Well, disability is better than death.

"As for the problem of gangsters, we also have a solution... In short, the two of you don't rush to set up stalls for the past few days, and stay at home. I promise that your food stalls will be able to operate normally within a week at most, and then it will not be. There are more gangsters to make trouble!"

Only then did Old Moore feel relieved, "How long do the masters plan to stay with Roy in Novigrad City?"

Susie on the side listened quietly when she heard the question, and stopped in front of the baby in her arms with a fork with a potato in her hand. The baby had already grown its mouth, waiting for the woman to feed, but couldn't eat anything.

When he grew his black eyes, he realized that he was ignored.

The little guy didn't give up, sticking out his pink tongue like a puppy, constantly licking the potatoes on the fork.

The bald man glanced at his students, "It depends on Roy's plan, but we have a lot of things to do in Novigrad, and it will take at least two months."

"It's only been two months?" The old couple couldn't hide their disappointment. According to their expectations, the child would have to stay for half a year this time.

"At least," Roy couldn't help adding, "I'll make time to accompany you as much as possible."

"What's going on in the city? Is it a commission? Let's hear it," said Old Moore. "We know a lot of vendors in the market, so maybe we can help."

"Dad, Susie..." Roy shook his head, grinned and shoved the potato in his hand into Mino's mouth, who finally retracted his tongue and closed his eyes for sleep. "I'm afraid you can't help," said the witcher, who didn't think his parents would know the "sweet" poet Dandelion.

"But..." The witcher turned his gaze to the beautiful female bard, but hesitated.

"What's the matter, Master Roy?"

"Miss Vesper, you are an excellent bard, so do you know Dandelion?"

"Dandrian? Is his full name Julian Alfred Pankratz?"

Roy's face froze, "I think there should be no other guy with the same name as him, the famous bard, Dandelion."

"Oh—" The bard made a slightly high-pitched strange cry in his perfect voice, his slender eyebrows wrinkled, revealing a strange expression, "Then I happen to know this person, who is an 'icon' in the industry...talent Outstanding, but unfortunately..." Weiss Platt paused, "too narcissistic and fraternity, and her character is quite naughty."

"Why did the masters look for him?"

The witchers looked at each other with smiles on their faces, "Does Ms. Vespra know his whereabouts? As far as we know, Dandelion has settled in Novigrad in recent years."

"It's true, but it's a pity..." Vesper pursed her red lips and said angrily, "I don't know... Which man or woman's bed is this guy fooling around at the moment."

"But someone knows." Vespera took a sip of the fish soup with red lips and said slowly, "A fanatic of poetry, in the middle of every month, Dandelion will be invited to the vanilla hotel in Novigrad to meet and share His creations. I happened to be at a party."

"Dandrian has a lot of lovers, and he spends a lot of money on weekdays, and there is not much money in the package, so generally he will not miss this opportunity to attract sponsorship."

"In the middle of the day, isn't that just two days?" The witcher thought, "Just go to the Vanilla Hotel and guard it."

"Tomorrow to be exact!"

"And who is that poetry fanatic?"

"Several of you should have heard of his reputation, a gang leader..." Vespra said in a cadenced tone of poetry reciting, "ruthless, wealthy, lavish, obsessed with elegant Romance... If I remember correctly, his nickname is Old Hawthorne, and his real name is Alphonse Willie."

Everyone present was stunned, isn't that the big brother of the three little gangsters?

"It's not that enemies don't get together."

Roy's mind came up with more details that he didn't think of before, Alphonse Willie, Hawthorne I, an out-and-out poetry fanatic.

Before being killed by his own son, he even wrote Dandelion's name in his will, leaving an industrial vanilla hotel under his name to the great poet.

That's when Dandelion turned the Vanilla Hotel into a dance hall.

"Let's save time to find someone." Oaks turned his neck a little excitedly, "Guys, it looks like you're going to have a big fight!"

"What does this master mean?"

"Just a joke. Miss Vespra, your words have helped us a lot... Thank you very much, about tomorrow's gathering of poetry lovers-"

"Actually, I also have a request..." Vespra's blue eyes swept across all the witchers present and pleaded, "From Redania to Aden, I have traveled to more than ten countries and wrote about various topics. It is a pity that the inspiration has dried up recently, and there has been no work for half a year."

"I'm fortunate enough to meet all the masters today, and I suddenly have an idea, witcher..." With a few strands of excited blush on Vesper's pretty face, "Why don't I write a poem about witchers, this It's a very interesting subject, and it also means innovation and a lot of inspiration... So can you take me with you when you're out and about in Novigrad?"

Poems about witchers?

The witchers' faces changed, and they were speechless. They had never encountered a similar situation. At least Cantila's fighting power was not inferior to ordinary men, but Vespa?

To act with a woman who has no strength in her hands?

The witchers rejected the idea in their hearts.

"Roy, what do you think?"

Roy didn't answer, and turned to look at the female bard seriously... and then suddenly realized, "Ms. Vesper, take the liberty to ask, do you have another name?"

"My stage name is Karenita, and you can also call me Priscilla."