"Oh my god..."
Even Geralt was stunned, staring blankly at Dandelion.
"What’s going on with Dudu again? Did you get him in trouble?"
"No way, you definitely don’t spend money as fast as he earns it!"
"To put it mildly," Dandelion awkwardly licked his lips, skirting around the issue, "I can only say, I’m in the sa predicant as Lann."
"I don’t really ask for favors, you certainly understand , Geralt."
"Yeah, you don’t ask for favors," Geralt said coldly, "except when you want to save you."
"Anyway!" Dandelion quickly interrupted Geralt, "I introduced Dudu to a skilled alchemist, hoping to create a promising project. But..."
Clearly, sothing went wrong in the process, and now it’s ssed up.
Another tragic story of soone trying to start a business and losing all their capital.
"Phew~" Lann sighed heavily, his head aching.
"Can you find Dudu now?"
He wasn’t too worried about Dudu’s debt; he just wanted this shapeshifter with quite a business sense, acknowledged by Geralt for his character, to be his asset manager.
Given the wealth of his assets, as long as they were managed steadily, the manager could still earn a lot.
But the problem now is...
"Dudu... isn’t he hiding from his debts?"
Dandelion chuckled awkwardly, and to cover his embarrassnt, he quickly grabbed a wooden spoon and gulped down two spoonfuls of tomato cream soup.
"Yeah, hiding from debts." Geralt gritted his teeth after hearing this.
"In Novigrad, there are houses built of bricks, roads paved with stones. A harbor, nurous warehouses, four watermills. Many slaughterhouses and sawmills, a large pointy shoe workshop."
"Many excellent craftsn and guilds, a mint, eight banks of various sizes, nineteen pawnshops. A massive religious castle and watchtower."
"And many supporting facilities, including a guillotine, a gallows with a trapdoor, thirty-five taverns, a theater, a zoo, and seven or eight scattered markets, twelve brothels, countless temples."
"And people, thirty thousand residents, with a floating population double that number!"
"And now." Geralt sighed, spreading his hands wide while glaring fiercely at the poet, who was almost burying his head in the soup bowl. "We have to find a shapeshifter in this city that can mimic others’ thoughts and mories?!"
Geralt’s objective statent made even Lann feel a headache.
He raised a spoon with a slice of tomato hanging on it, the tomato piece swaying on the spoon like a pendulum, much like his current mood.
Both Geralt and Lann looked utterly defeated. ’Find a shapeshifter friendly to humans,’ the task sounded not dangerous, but once tied to a city the size of Novigrad, the difficulty skyrocketed.
"We have to figure sothing out."
Lann sighed and gathered his spirits.
Things still have to be done, you can’t just avoid them because they’re difficult.
This escapist approach isn’t his style.
And while these people were troubled by the current predicant...
"Knock, knock, knock."
Three gentle yet clear knocks ca from the door of the private room.
The visitor didn’t wait for the people inside to speak but pushed the door open and walked in... bringing with her a fragrant breeze.
And a voice lively as a young girl, yet with an alluring mature tone.
"Looks like a private gathering? May I co in?"
"You’re already in," Lann smiled, gesturing to the empty chair by the table, "Welco, Triss."
The visitor had red hair, wearing a hunter’s outfit suitable for activity.
But the female warlock’s figure always made shapeless pants tighten to reveal a hint of softness and fullness.
Over-the-knee high boots, in this outfit, actually resembled the positioning of stockings.
The silver pendant on the two Demon Hunters’ necks shook even more vigorously.
Novigrad was full of magical equipnt, and the locks of major institutions were even a combination of magic locks with physical locks.
The Demon Hunters’ dallion usually vibrated slightly in such an environnt, only jumping more fiercely in close proximity to a magic source.
Thus, when Triss was outside the door earlier, neither Geralt nor Lann could use the necklace to judge there was a female warlock outside.
"Oh, hello, Triss."
The awkward atmosphere was broken, and Dandelion was the first to warmly welco the mood breaker, showing his gratitude.
"And hello to you, great poet."
The female warlock, in long high-heeled boots, walked like a cat, smiling as she patted the poet’s shoulder, walking past him.
But when she reached the chair Lann pointed out, she didn’t stop; instead, she grabbed the back of the chair and, amidst the sound of chair legs scraping against the wooden floor, dragged it to Lann’s side.
That’s when she sat down beside him, elegantly crossing her legs.
Lann watched in disbelief... this woman was daring today!
Though they weren’t in the academy now.
"Want so, Triss?"
Geralt pointed to the fish and chips set in front of the three of them and the cat.
Triss was Yennefer’s good friend, her best friend, and back when Geralt went to Teria’s Vizima to lift the vampire bird curse, Triss was already serving as a royal advisor.
Veltrest even learned from her what the Demon Hunters were all about.
So they all knew each other well.
And Dandelion and Geralt were wise enough to pretend they didn’t notice the strange atmosphere between the man and woman opposite them.
Lann’s tall body seed out of place, but Triss continually ’encroached’ towards Lann.
The Rong Buqiu originally squeezed in the middle, could only stare with big watery eyes, looking bewildered.
It thought Triss just liked this spot, so it softly ’owed’ and ran with its plate to sit on the other side of its boss.
"Thanks, Geralt, I’ve already eaten."
Triss propped her elbow on the table and smiled in response.
Lann initially intended to naturally move his chair aside with a shoulder shake.
But after a slight shake, he realized... it didn’t budge.
Looking down, he saw the legs of the chair held down by a glow of Magic.
Triss’s long fingers fiddling beneath the table also emitted a faint light.
"Ahem, why... why are you in Novigrad?"
Lann asked, slightly nervously.
However, the female warlock’s light blue eyes swept over the young demon hunter’s face, whose charm and nervous expression made her chuckle lightly.
"You really don’t need to worry about Rita, darling."
Triss’s voice, in her teasing tone, was intentionally sickly sweet.
A young person in a group of female warlocks, playful and optimistic, often bursting into laughter over trivial matters.
Except for when Lann took care of her for days after the battle at Sodden Mountain, when she was covered in burns. That was the impression Triss had of him.
"Actually..."
Her hand supported her chin, tilted to look at Lann beside her.
"She’s the one who called here, I heard about your situation from her. She wants to ’look after’ you a bit here. Haha, listen to her speak. A hero who won a war seed like a little brat."
Triss emphasized the words ’look after’ heavily.
Imdiately, Dandelion across the table grinned knowingly and slyly.
"I have a villa near the Master’s Square in Novigrad, the hotel prices in Novigrad aren’t cheap, you’re probably finding it hard to afford them now? And, Qilin and Rong Buqiu aren’t convenient in a hotel."
Saying this, Triss stood up, her slender yet strong waist directly blocking Lann, her upper body reaching over to scratch Rong Buqiu’s chin.
"Oh, you are even cuter after all this ti, little cat."
"Thanks for the complint, ow!"
The little cat contentedly raised its head, eyes squinting.
Lann blinked, first looking at the alluring waist before him, then raising his eyes to et Dandelion’s gaze.
’Master’s Square! Central location! Villa!’
The poet was aggressively and silently mouthing to educate Lann.
No matter which world you’re in, a lady owning a villa in the central area of a world-class city carries a certain distinction, known to anyone.
And indeed, currently, funds were tight...
"Thank you for allowing us to stay, Triss."
Lann tried to lean back into his chair, as he spoke.
"I, Rong Buqiu, and Qilin will behave ourselves and not trouble you."
"Is that so?" Triss’s red hair fell near her mouth, a smile full of aning. Her waist slithered back into her seat like a beautiful serpent.
"Behave... Ha, that’s best."
"Wonderful!" Across the table, Geralt seed like he wanted to stop Dandelion, but undoubtedly, the poet wasn’t stopped.
He suddenly exclaid loudly.
"Look, this is friendship! Wherever you have a friend, it makes your heart feel at ease."
"But Triss." The poet looked at the female warlock with hopeful eyes. "Can you arrange accommodations for us too?"
"Don’t say it!" Geralt’s leather glove had just slid over the silk fabric of Dandelion’s shirt, now hurriedly interrupting him in annoyance.
"Sorry, Triss. Dandelion recently experienced a tragedy, hasn’t recovered. He’s trying to cover his depression, sadness, and anxiety with carefree jokes."
"You’re saying he got dumped, thrown out by a woman with his clothes and all."
Triss spoke with assurance.
"Precisely!" Dandelion seed the least concerned person present, loudly acknowledging it.
"Alright. For the lady who surely lost her temper on you." Triss shrugged, "I’ll book a room for you two at the Kingfisher Inn, which is also close to the Master’s Square. How does that sound?"
"Thank you so much!" Dandelion plucked his lute gently, "Maybe I can earn so performance fees there."
"Alright, accommodation isn’t the main issue." Lann, having given up trying to move the chair, now turned to the poet with a question.
"The important thing is finding Dudu, and to do that, we need to know the background... Dandelion, you said you connected him with an alchemist, what’s the deal with this alchemist?"
"I don’t actually know any alchemist, it was an acquaintance, a schoolmate, she traveled with that guy for a few days, that’s how the connection was made."
Dandelion recalled as he spoke.
"The alchemist seems to be called... Karkstan."
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