"Take it easy, turnips. Take it easy, shhh~"

The face is vicissitudes but not heroic, deep, neck-length milky white hair makes him look a little sickly, cat eyes, and a silver roaring wolf head necklace hanging from his chest.

Geralt of Rivia, the Wolf Witcher. At this time, his horse was being comforted.

"Miss Eliza, could you please ask your servants to put down the pitchforks? This thing is not safe against living creatures, and horses will be afraid. ”

The pleading was coming out of his mouth, but the face of this wolf demon hunter was the same as that of most people in this class, and it didn't wave.

This is also the origin of the rumor that 'witchers are a group of ruthless killers with no feelings' that has been circulated among the people.

Farmers who are forced to live by monsters will be very simple, but when the monster dies, this temporary simplicity will most likely pass away.

In the face of an emotional witcher, the peasants will not be stingy with a few pitiful expressions, as well as a few words of saliva of moral kidnapping. Just to escape the final payment of the demon hunting commission.

Most witchers will learn Geralt's current cold expression within a year of completing their training and actually entering the industry.

This expression will save the witcher a lot less trouble.

Of course, the above professional dilemmas and bitterness are limited to ordinary witchers, and have little to do with a bear cub who can live permanently in the Erethusa Academy.

"Put down the pitchfork, everybody, let go!"

In the largest manor in the village, a pretty-faced lady clutched a handkerchief and stumbled to calm the servants.

After the servants had stepped away for a moment, she cautiously approached the witcher on his horse.

"This honorable sir? You are"

Geralt not only did not have any fluctuations on his face, but he was also very calm psychologically.

He knew very well how much his sickly gray hair and cat's eyes would cause panic to the uninformed farmer.

So he simply pulled out a roll of parchment from his horse's rucksack and handed it to Eliza.

"There is King Ewell's seal and order on it, please check it yourself. I have only come to work on the behalft of King Evel. You don't have to be so wary of me. ”

His voice was slightly hoarse, but it had the deep charm of a mature man.

The leather rubbed, and Geralt rolled smoothly off the carrot's back.

The Wolf School is an eclectic and well-rounded school, and he now wears a medium-weight armor of leather armor mixed with chain mail.

It can't be compared with the heavy armor of dozens of kilograms that the Bear School can't move at every turn, but such a smooth movement still makes the servants who were holding a straw fork to him just now slightly stunned.

Two long swords were tied to the side of the horse's belly by him, revealing only the simple hilt.

He reached out and patted the restless mare again to calm it down.

"Let's make a long story short, I think this curse wants to be lifted, and the process shouldn't be too dangerous. At least it won't make me have to draw my sword, the only point is that you have to give me information. ”

"Information?"

The beautiful aristocratic lady clutched her handkerchief suspiciously and repeated.

"Yes, information. Also called intelligence. Anything, you're going to have to take this cursed one anyway."

"Fisnet, my brother's name is Fisnet."

"Well, you have to tell me the cause and effect of the curse on this Sir Fisnet, and how he behaved in between. That's how I can figure it out. ”

Geralt patiently explained to the aristocratic lady who had apparently no contact with witchers.

Don't look at the demon hunters, most of them have cold faces, but this industry is actually a service industry. Patience with customers is just as important a quality as professional skills.

"I know who he was cursed with, what he cursed, why, and where he often flies after being cursed and turned into a cormorant."

"And that information has to be truthful. Otherwise, I'd have to say."

At this, Geralt shut up and paused for a moment, as if to give the relatives of the cursed a moment to understand.

"Otherwise, I have to say, you may feel that it is not a bad choice to become a cormorant."

He told a bad joke, but no one in the room smiled except for a servant who had just held a pitchfork and "poofed".

Instead, he looked nervous and worried.

Geralt scratched his cheek.

"Okay." He muttered. "The joke does get a little colder."

But this cold joke has brought remarkable results.

Miss Eliza gathered many of the people who were now idle in Hamm in order to piece together a rough picture of what had happened, so that the witcher's method of unleashing the spell could be cast.

So in this cold winter wind, in order to have fun, there were really a lot of people gathered outside the manor.

Geralt may seem to be a ruthless Scarface on the surface, but he is on the verge of whistling in his heart.

In the past, when investigating the situation of the mission, he had to walk on two legs, walk through the streets, and step on cow dung and dog shit in the village, so as to find such an insider, who was not drunk in a dilapidated wooden house or a leaky tavern.

Then endure the other party's bad breath and stammering, as well as the speculation caused by ignorance, and get the information you want from the small clues.

And now, people waiting for their own inquiries are lining up.

I have to say that the last time he had this treatment, he still helped Foltest solve the curse on his daughter.

Be careful not to fall into some invisible political maelstrom when working for kings. But on the other hand, convenience is also really convenient.

"Well, are you sure you saw Sir Fisnet having a long tryst with a lady?"

"Tui, of course I'm sure!" The farmer tilted his head, first spitting out thick phlegm, and then spoke out with a look of conviction.

"I can even hear how long Lord Sir screamed when he stabbed that witch! They're always running errands in that haystack near my house! Believe me! ”

The vulgar shouts were greeted by a burst of exclamation from the peasant women, mixed with curiosity and curiosity.

At the same time, there was a burst of laughter from the farmers.

These reactions made the person who was questioned look even more complacent.

Geralt was noncommittal about that confidence.

"I'm not sure it's a witch yet."

His voice was as calm as ever.

But the person who was questioned scoffed.

"What else could it be if it wasn't a witch? Could it be that she is an honest woman? Lord Jazz has become a bird! I said, do you understand? ”

"Maybe, I'm just a witcher."

Very good.

Geralt thought calmly.

Things soon progressed to the stage of 'laymen questioning insiders'.

This is also a part of the habit of demon hunters, after all, this is a world where even the princes and nobles believe that 'turtle stones can invalidate magic'.

The more stubborn a person is in his worldview, the more difficult it is to accept a reality that he cannot understand.

The peasants' worldview is simple, so it is particularly stubborn.

Geralt is used to panning for gold in the sea of information.

But after basically sifting through the testimony of the crowd, he sighed under Miss Eliza's nervous gaze.

"Damn"

The witcher pursed his lips helplessly and looked at the noble lady.

"Haven't you stopped the spread of rumors? This pile of information is true and false now, I can't tell the difference between true and false! ”

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(End of chapter)