Witcher's Atelier

The next morning in the far corner area, in the empty room painted black with sound-absorbing paint, the subjects of the Green Grass Trial breathed heavily, and every breath was as difficult as their last breath.

Because the body sweats and excretes waste, Ruf's skin is now wet, sticky and smelly, and only his body twitching from time to time is left to let people know that he is not dead yet.

The girl curiously picked up the straw hat placed beside the bed. It was a very ordinary round-top straw hat with a red ribbon around it and no other decorations.

Wiping away the nosebleed for Rouf with a towel, Angouleme stood up and left. Just like Victor said, there was no response to his words and there was nothing he could do for him. This was his personal war.

――I hope you will succeed. Although I always dislike you, if you fail, the leader will definitely be in a bad mood. He is such a troublesome person.

…

At the same time, Victor, the leader of the Phantom Troupe, adopted the pertinent suggestions from yesterday's members and came to the Passiflora Club in the Geldof District in the north of Novigrad City.

From the outside, it is a large four-story building, standing alone and surrounded by a garden. Even Nilfgaard's Ambassador's Residence is not as spectacular as it. It is built in an area where land is of high value, which adds to the style and momentum. Extraordinary.

Since today was a day for collecting folk songs, of course he had to look like a collector. The young man rarely wore a tight-fitting top, a high pleated round collar, a feathered hat, loose breeches, and a silver half-face mask.

According to what he had once mocked Dandelion, he now looked like a colorful mating dove.

He actually didn't want to dress like this, but after confirming that he was going to Passiflora, Yuna and Angoulin happily ran to the Patriarch's Square to buy this outfit for him, and then showed off that they would not wear it if they didn't. To give face.

Although in the game, Geralt always complained that this kind of gorgeous clothing made him uncomfortable, but in actual wearing it, Victor thought it was okay. There was no reason why everyone else liked to wear uncomfortable clothing, so the Witcher The discomfort is actually a psychological factor.

Touching the full money bag at his waist, Victor raised his chin slightly and walked toward the door reservedly, but was stopped by the guard in the vestibule.

"Sorry sir, Passiflora is an invitation-only club. I don't know your name and there is no member to lead you. I'm sorry that I can't let you in."

The guards blocking the road spoke politely. Of course, this may also be related to Victor's clothes. People who dress like this are either rich or noble.

Victor remained calm and patted his bulging money bag, "I am indeed not a member, but Radovid V is my introducer!"

"Sorry sir, you need to understand that the club is a stylish place, and wealth is only the most insignificant part of membership. We pay more attention to your identity, status, reputation, and friendship.

Not just any nouveau riche is qualified to come to Passiflora to spend money and share the open and comfortable environment with distinguished big shots. "

Victor touched his nose when he was told, and felt a little embarrassed. He didn't expect that he was walking around the city, even if he was facing the four giants, he was so generous, but he was actually hit in the face by such a small person in this place.

Of course the boy understood that after some clubs or clubs make money to a certain level, what they make is not money, but things other than money. But he didn’t expect that such a concept existed in the Middle Ages. Novigrad is indeed the Pearl of the North. .

Victor smiled and nodded, "Sorry, I'm going to find a friend now. I'll be back soon."

As he turned sideways and was about to leave, the guard stopped him again: "Sir, you seem to be a respectable gentleman. Let me give you a suggestion. When facing an elegant socialite, it is not popular to directly take out krona. That would Make them feel insulted.

Maybe you'd like to pack some jewelry or accessories so that dressing up is part of their flirting game! I believe you know what I mean.

If necessary, the nearby Morrington Gem Shop, the jewelry there is quite popular and the prices are relatively reasonable. "

Victor was really amused when he heard this. It has developed to the point where it does not accept cash but only gifts. Sure enough, after the industrial upgrading, the emphasis is on sentiment and the atmosphere is what is played.

As for the Morinton Gem Shop, I don’t know how much profit it gave the guard every month to get him to recommend it so enthusiastically.

The call from behind interrupted the boy's reverie.

"Oh, my friend! It's incredible to see you here!" The voice was enthusiastic and joyful, a familiar voice from the white-haired elf.

Turning around, Victor saw "Cyprian Willy II" and Bosler. They were both dressed noble and decently, and they were obviously here to spend money.

More than a month later, he faced Hawthorne II again. He was still the same II, but Victor was no longer a poet who could be insulted at will. His deeds of killing shapeshifters made him famous among well-informed people. .

Furthermore, no educated, common-sense adult would deliberately provoke a witcher, especially if he had a sword at his waist.

Hawthorne II nodded casually to the boy, and Victor nodded casually in response. There was no friendship at all between them, especially since he had tried to humiliate himself.

Walking to his side, Boslair reached out and knocked on Victor's silver mask twice, "It's very beautiful and exquisite. Are you here to play? Why are you standing at the door and not going in?"

"That was my original plan, but because I didn't understand the rules, I was blocked from the door. Now I'm going to find friends and ask them to introduce me to join."

Victor noticed that after he finished speaking, the guard's face was obviously red. He took two steps forward and bowed deeply, "I'm very sorry, Mr. Cyprian, Mr. Bosler, I didn't know this gentleman was you." friend."

Hawthorne II's expression was calm, as if he hadn't heard anything.

The white-haired elf also ignored it, bowed slightly to the young man, and said happily: "In that case, Mr. Victor, do I have the honor to be your friend and introduce you to the Passiflora Club?"

Victor glanced at the guard. He was hunched over and did not dare to raise his head. The sweat on his face fell on the lawn drop by drop. "Of course, my friend, there is no need to embarrass him. He was not rude to me."

"Ah! Merciful Victor, when will you get rid of this good-hearted bad habit? Didn't the escaped slave last time make you feel cold?

Having said that, I just like this about you, please come in! "Bosler waved his hand, and the three of them passed the guards and walked towards the garden.

Entering the hall of the house, Cyprian nodded again and went directly upstairs. It seemed that the room and service procedures had been reserved, leaving Victor and Boslair chatting in the hall.

In the high-ceilinged hall, the golden lights are brilliant, the furnishings are exquisite and gorgeous, and the tapestries and hanging scrolls are beautiful.

The moderate temperature in the room allows the men to be well-dressed, and also allows the women to have a variety of styles. At a glance, there are dinner suits, farm fishermen, and underwear.

Exquisite meals are placed on both sides for free access, and the people carrying wine and water are all women. The dinner party held by Yada in the white hall of Vizima was this style, a trend set by the sorceresses.

Approaching the dining table, the young man poured a cup of mixed juice, "This is Mr. Alphonse's property? Seeing how skilled you are in training the guards, are you his direct superior?"

Taking the champagne from the waiter, the elf shook his head, "No, this is Mr. Lu Wen's property. I have to say that many of his business methods are worthy of our imitation. It is not easy to set up a membership system like this.

Especially in etiquette training, failing to recognize a distinguished guest is a serious mistake for which there is no excuse. For example, if you lost your temper just now, there was only one outcome: his legs would be broken and he would be thrown out.

Of course, if you were just a country bumpkin, you would have your legs broken and thrown out. "

After smothering the champagne in one gulp, the elf continued: "Come on, I'll introduce you to 'Mrs. Zunning' and let her draw a portrait. You won't have to worry about guards when you go to Passiflora."

Following Bosler, Victor soon saw this charming woman in the corner of the hall, the host of the club. She was wearing a bear fur shawl, a lotus pleated tutu, and her silver-gray look was spotless. The hair is tied into a bun at the back of the head.

Although time was like a knife, cutting her into pieces beyond recognition, you can still vaguely see some of her grace when she was young.

The white-haired elf hugged her closely and said in a gentle tone: "I haven't seen you for a long time, Mrs. Zunning. Let me introduce you to a friend—Mr. Alphonse's friend."

"Oh, Bosler, my handsome young dove, every time I see you I regret retiring too soon."

Then she looked at the silver mask of the strange visitor, "A friend of Alphonse? Who is this respectable gentleman?"

Smiling silently, the boy took off his mask and said, "Victor Corleone, runs a blacksmith shop and alchemy workshop in Glorious Alley."

Boslair added next to him: "Don't listen to his nonsense. He is the dragonborn poet who brought us the immortal legend east of Serikania. But you may be more concerned about his other identity. A few days ago At the poetry recital meeting, the masked poet king surprised everyone with his song "With You".

Mrs. Zunning's eyes lit up, "Oh, this is such a distinguished guest. Thank you for bringing him here."

"I didn't bring him here. He took the initiative to visit. He was almost blocked by the guard at the door."

"I'm not angry. I didn't understand the rules of the club. The guard wasn't rude."

Ignoring the young man's interruption, the elf continued: "All his consumption here will be charged to Mr. Alphonse's account."

Victor noticed that Mrs. Zunning was sketching with her right hand while she was talking. In just a few minutes, a charcoal drawing with few lines but a vivid image appeared in front of his eyes. The guard would remember not to block his way next time.

Her voice was very nice, with a kind of tenderness that people couldn't bear to refuse: "At least today, let us entertain the poet, the little white pigeon, and enjoy Passiflora's service. I can just wait for Mr. Victor."

The white-haired elf shrugged his shoulders and left the boy behind. It seemed that he had already made an appointment.

After completing the portrait and avoiding unnecessary trouble, Victor put on the silver mask again.

Staring at the young man's smooth and wrinkle-free forehead, the lady showed an ambiguous smile: "Tell me, little handsome boy, what kind of service do you need? What kind of person can serve you?"

Victor has always been a man who knows what he wants.

"The lady who serves me is expected to be about the same height as me. She doesn't have to be beautiful in appearance, but her craftsmanship must be good and she must be open-minded. The bigger the better. In addition, I have no prejudice against race. Elves, humans, and half-elves are all fine..." Only dwarves can’t.”

Hearing the last sentence, Mrs. Zunning smiled brightly, "Of course not dwarves. If there were female dwarves in any club, those male dwarves would have come to the door with axes and sticks. God knows where they got their mysterious confidence. They always think that the whole world is coveting their women.”

"As for the service, I need a large bathtub, a soothing massage, a large pot of hot milk, a dessert of baguette slices with banrudar cream, woolen sheets, and chamomile essential oils."

Mrs. Zunning raised her eyebrows. She originally thought that Victor was an amateur and needed to be explained and taught, but she didn't expect that he was a man who enjoyed himself. She couldn't help but reveal a smile of a heroine cherishing a hero.

"Your room will be ready soon, and someone will come to invite you.

It is recommended to stroll around the hall while waiting, or you may meet someone you want to know. There are also various gambling tools in the side hall next door, including dice, leaf cards, and chess."

The young man smiled and nodded, letting Mama-san leave to make arrangements.

Observing this extraordinary scene, and the identities of the people entering and leaving are either rich or noble, since ancient times, upper-class social places have always been important bases for intelligence gathering.

Sigi Luwen, oh no, Sigismund Dijkstra, this spy chief runs Passiflora, obviously not just to make money.

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