Temple Quarter, Troupe House. Before the stairs leading down to the basement, the sign for Victor's Alchemy Workshop had been hung up again.
Reaching out to brush her hand across the sign, Angoulême remembered how, during dinner that night, Victor had announced that the "self-use only, guaranteed-success Grass Draught" had been completed. His delighted appearance made her smile knowingly.
Then he had said that once everything was arranged, they would go to the outskirts and spend fourteen days there. If no other accidents happened, he would become the only remaining seventh witcher of the School of the Wolf in this era.
At the time, Shani had not reacted much. She had congratulated Victor very normally. But during this period, Angoulême had been with her day and night, so it was very easy to sense that the senior's mood had become very bad.
The girl also knew that if her good sister from Skellige, Cerys, found out, her mood would definitely become bad too. Do not be fooled by the troupe leader's plain and ordinary appearance. He truly was a deeply sinful man!
Going down the stairs into the laboratory, the alchemist Victor Corion was standing before the great cauldron as usual, mixing and stirring amid the sound of music. His sword, Golden Eagle, was idly set aside, and what was currently being stewed in the pot should have been leather armor.
According to him, his alchemy skills had greatly improved, so all of their equipment needed to be enchanted again. In addition, he would also make accessories next. In other words, from now on, he could carry nine kinds of enchantment effects on his body at any time.
At first glance, it was still unclear whether it was truly that impressive, but at least the posture and ceremony were already fully in place.
Different from before, when he still had to hum by himself, the troupe leader had evolved again. Now the one responsible for playing music while he stirred was a music box placed beside him.
Angoulême had seen similar little devices in the market, but they usually played only simple mechanical tones. She had never heard such an impressive music box before, one that could actually play a vocal performance of The Return of the Dragonborn.
The difference between the vocal version and the single-tone version was indeed obvious. Walking to the table, the girl curiously picked up the music box and observed it from left to right. "Is this also a new product? Can unbelievable alchemy even record sound?"
"That's right. I recorded this myself. You also think it sounds good, right? I also made quite a few other tracks. When necessary, during battle, I can play whichever song I want to hear at any time."
As if she had heard a strange statement, Angoulême's expression went blank. "...Vic, why would you want to play music during battle?"
"That will confuse the enemy and make them hesitate. And hesitation means defeat!" he said as if it were obvious.
Sensing that Victor was gathering momentum and preparing to explain another bizarre Bell Town proverb, Angoulême decisively closed her mouth and stopped responding. She went to the corner and dragged a recliner over beside the great cauldron.
With a salted-fish dive, she flopped onto it and changed the subject. "Troupe leader, since you said you took action and got rid of a certain someone, does that mean your spirit is already balanced?"
Somewhat regretful that Angoulême had not continued asking about the music topic, Victor followed her words and answered, "To some extent, I was tricked by Corion. His final reminder that I should find someone guilty of terrible crimes before taking action should count as a kind of self-interrogation.
"It made me ask myself, every time I encountered someone worth eliminating, is this the one? In my heart, is this person truly beyond forgiveness? Only through this continuous questioning and answering could I find and strengthen my own conviction!
"Fortunately, after choosing from thousands and tens of thousands, this Mage Albert became my best choice!"
Next, the young man spent some time recounting what had happened after they parted. From Leo's Trial of the Grasses at Kaer Morhen, the prophetic encounter at Tretogor, the zombie dogs, the three types of Lickers, the Tyrant, to Salamandra's Professor and Azar Javed.
After listening, Angoulême upgraded from salted fish to an even lazier salted fish, turning from lying on her back to lying on her stomach. "What a troublesome situation. Vizima is such a big city. If they are hiding inside it, it will be very hard for us to find their whereabouts. Maybe we can ask Ramsmeat's gang to help?"
"It's fine. Tomorrow I will go to the Order and find Siegfried, then go to the city guards and look for Vincent to report the case. After telling them all the information I know and fulfilling my responsibility as a good citizen, the rest has nothing to do with us. We are ordinary rangers. If it is not our position, we do not meddle in its affairs. We must learn to trust the organization."
The troupe member glanced sidelong at the troupe leader. "I understand, I understand. So what preparations are we going to make ourselves?"
Seeing Angoulême's appearance, Victor knew she did not understand at all. He glared back at her. "The most important preparation was lost because of you, and you still dare talk to me about this? Your uncle, Geralt of Rivia, our final trump card, our final safety catch!
"Do not look at me with that suspicious expression. If things ever reach an extremely dangerous point, we can throw this mess aside and hide far away. The White Wolf will definitely be able to tidy everything back up. But now you have lost him. Hurry and tell me what happened."
The young man spoke seriously, but the girl did not believe her uncle truly had that kind of ability, only thinking that Victor was joking again.
Explaining Geralt's departure from her in the simplest words, Angoulême concluded, "Afterward, I thought about it carefully. Maybe my uncle just did not want us to keep taking care of him so meticulously. He wanted to try living his old life and look for his memories.
"During this trip to Kaer Morhen, I finally understood. Troupe leader, you are a special case among witchers. Because you are not short on money, you eat well, dress well, and use good things! Only after chatting with Lambert did I learn that ordinary witchers normally cannot afford to use bombs at all, and they certainly do not drink potions at every little thing!"
Victor shrugged indifferently. "Even if you gave them explosives, they would find them hard to use. They are inconvenient to carry and easily get damp. Potions also have shelf lives. It is more practical to help them enchant their equipment.
"Besides, even if the White Wolf said he wanted to act alone, that is still no reason for you to have absolutely no idea where he is. I see you have been living quite comfortably these days. Eat when full, sleep after eating, then prank Thaler."
"Please, I just said Vizima is such a big city. If even Salamandra cannot be found, how am I supposed to find Geralt?"
"Excuses! If Eagle Vision really wants to find someone, wandering around the city a few more times still gives you a chance. Besides, you could go find Triss, couldn't you? I believe that even if Geralt does not want to rely on you, he would definitely still be willing to let Triss help."
Angoulême was left speechless by his rebuke, and Victor did not press his advantage.
After a while, the salted-fish girl sprawled on the recliner flipped over. "Fine! Actually, I just did not really want to go find Triss. I can guess that Geralt is probably with her, but how should I put it...
"I think Triss is very pitiful! In Rivia, I personally saw how close Geralt and Yennefer were. So I dare say that once Geralt's memories recover, she will definitely be abandoned!"
The hands stirring the great cauldron paused slightly. The young man chewed over the girl's words before finally understanding. He had not expected a Triss supporter to actually appear within the Phantom Troupe.
A so-called Triss supporter referred to someone on Triss's side. Corresponding to that was a Yennefer supporter.
Regarding where Geralt's heart should belong, people were divided into two camps. Supporters of Yennefer or Triss had many reasons to argue that the witcher should choose the heroine they approved of in order to live happily ever after.
As for Victor himself, he was, incidentally, what one might call a "why not both" supporter. After all, both sides were extraordinarily charming and hard to choose between.
Unfortunately, the game did not have that option. If the White Wolf wanted both, the ending was the lone wolf ending, where both sorceresses abandoned him.
Of course, this was the game's setting. Strictly speaking, their breakups and reunions had already gone on for decades. It would be perfectly normal for them to keep making trouble for a few more decades in the future.
That said, the reason the young man could watch the drama so openly was because he stood in the position of an outsider and could dialectically view the open relationship among them.
Otherwise, normally speaking, based on the tradition of the School of the Wolf's witchers, and the fact that he had only interacted with Triss, he should naturally be a Triss supporter.
Originally, Angoulême had also felt that her reasoning was somewhat childish and had worried that Victor would be unhappy after she said it. Unexpectedly, he accepted this reason. After thinking it over carefully for a while, he even clapped his hands twice in approval. "You did very well. Some things should be allowed to take their natural course. When Geralt remembers it later, he will thank you."
After finishing the topic of Geralt, the conversation temporarily came to an end.
Amid flashing rainbow light, Victor took out the leather armor. Then he threw Golden Eagle into the pot and added all kinds of ingredients.
Staring at the alchemist's movements, the wild girl hesitated briefly before finally speaking. "Vic, are you in a hurry to mutate into a witcher? ...I mean... even if success is guaranteed, aren't there still some unknown effects?"
"Perhaps some parts are subtle, but Corion definitely will not harm me. Or rather," Victor covered his mouth with one hand and yawned, "even if the manifestation is somewhat exaggerated, that is still a projection of the depths of my own soul..."
"What if you end up with strange eyes like Leo?"
"To be honest, I am almost certain that after using this Grass Draught, my eyes will become the same type as Leo's, or even more miraculous!"
Seeing him answer so smoothly, the girl had nothing to say for the moment and angrily rolled back and forth on the recliner.
Glancing at her, he asked, "Are you trying to convince me not to mutate?"
Angoulême lowered her head and said nothing.
"Whether I mutate or not, I am still your troupe leader. Do not believe rumors like the mutation process causing loss of emotion, or witchers being cold-blooded animals. I do not dare say anything else, but at least for this mutation, it is a leap in the quality of life. So do not act as if I am about to die. You should be happy for me instead."
Raising her head, she jumped up from the recliner and patted her backside. "Forget it! I can't win an argument with you anyway, and you won't listen to me. In a couple of days, let the others come talk to you. I'm going to sleep first!"
Watching her go upstairs, Victor suddenly felt that perhaps he had thought about it too simply. He should not have treated the completion of the potion as good news to be announced to everyone.
In fact, the more someone cared about him, the more they would push back against his mutation.
Based on society's customs and views, a mutated witcher was not human. He was a lowly, shameful, filthy existence. This was not something that could be relieved simply by telling them how much stronger he would become.
It was like a royal mage in a story becoming invincible through forbidden self-mutilation, only to be seen by his rival as a ridiculous eunuch. Or like a respected swordmaster becoming disgraced the moment the truth behind the sinister sword art he practiced was exposed.
A eunuch was a eunuch. No matter how strong he was, no matter how high his martial skill, he was still a damned eunuch. Anyone with a cock could look down on him, despise him, and mock him for being a eunuch.
That was how the world's chain of contempt worked. Humans despised nonhumans, and nonhumans could despise witchers. It was only because they also belonged to a despised group that nonhumans were usually more friendly toward witchers.
During dinner, he had heard that Dandelion was also in Vizima, and doing quite well. He spent his days eating, drinking, whoring, gambling, boasting, playing music, and singing with those nobles. But if he knew that the Dragonborn Bard he had carefully promoted was actually preparing to fall and become a witcher, he would certainly be full of complaints too.
And also... Shani. Although the senior said nothing, and even seemed as if she were happy for him, in truth, many things did not need to be said. They were understood in silence.
Love between a long-lived being and a short-lived one had always been like two parallel lines. Not to mention, as for what the feelings between them truly counted as, Victor had no answer, and he believed Shani did not have one yet either.
In the basement, the great cauldron boiled and bubbled. The young man stood alone.
When the rainbow light flashed again, he threw down the stirring rod and decided to change into another set of clothes and go outside for a walk.
Name: Batsuit, Third Generation
Type: Armor
Quality: Fine
Defense: Weak
Traits: Potential Enhancement, Defense-Speed Bonus
Enchantment: Illumination Coating
Note: Who I am underneath does not matter. What I do is what defines me.
On the night of the full moon, Vizima had no curfew this year. Originally, Batman had wanted to go out and beat people up. But after circling through several districts in succession, public security all seemed to be in quite good condition.
So had Salamandra changed its nature, and recently stopped favoring drunkards harassing women? The young man did not think so. Or were there other off-field factors causing them to restrain themselves? That possibility was more likely.
Lost in random thoughts, he passed through a dark alley. Suddenly, a familiar stench drifted over. It smelled like a dog soaked by rain, a smell that had left a deep impression on him in Freya's Garden. And accompanying this smell was a thick, pungent scent of blood.
In an instant, his body stiffened slightly. But even if he wanted to leave, it was already too late. Victor could clearly feel that that fellow was staring at him from the darkness.
A werewolf!
The face of Captain Vincent from the riverbank last year suddenly flashed through his mind. "Listen, Vizima's nights are not as peaceful as they look, especially on nights of the full moon. Try not to go out."
If this scene had happened last year, Victor might have run away while shouting loudly to see if he could force this monster back.
But this year, he slowly turned toward the werewolf. Although the Batsuit was not convenient for using the School of the Wolf's secret techniques, under his gloves were Oathstrike Wraps, the item from the Fist of Fury arena that had helped him kill the champion Olaf bare-handed.
With a low growl, without any explanation, the black shadow pounced ferociously.
Batman swung his fist and struck!
Some time later, Madame Carmen, the owner of the Eager Thighs, was surprised to see a guest she had not seen in a long time come through the door.
He looked somewhat disheveled. Although his clothes were not dirty, his entire body gave off an unpleasant, rank odor. She vaguely remembered that for a period of time, when he had been eliminating ghouls in the cemetery and reporting in every dawn, he had carried the same powerful smell.
"Long time no see, Victor. Your last visit was last year. Several of my girls miss the gentle you very much. What kind of service do you need today?"
Reuniting with an old friend, her wavy hairstyle was gorgeous, and her soft voice soothed the heart.
"I need a bath. Please prepare a large tub of warm water, chamomile incense, and as for the girl who will scrub me... is Tanya still working?"
The corners of Carmen's mouth rose. "Please come with me. The services you need will be prepared very soon."
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