Chapter 45: Geralt's Commission (55)
At three in the morning, he arrived at Hubert's home. The two-story house stood on Altland Avenue, exquisitely furnished within, with a view of the harbor and sea through its windows. He Shenyan went straight down to the basement and casually dispelled the protective magic the Vampire had placed at its entrance.
It was dark and damp inside. Wooden shelves along the walls were filled with all manner of human organs. The sheer variety and quantity made He Shenyan almost regret not torturing it a little longer.
He was not usually so impulsive, and even among Mages, his attitude toward nonhuman creatures was considered fairly peaceful. But when it came to things like this, he could not be bothered to reason with them.
Four female corpses lay in the corner of the basement, their abdominal cavities hollowed out. Their blood appeared to have long since drained away. They stared blankly at the basement ceiling. The youngest among them looked no more than a teenager, the childishness not yet gone from her face.
"Ah..." the Black-Robed Mage let out a long sigh.
Flames appeared in his palm, illuminating the gloomy basement. The four corpses slowly burned in the fire. Their illusory souls rose from their bodies, wearing expressions of confusion and pain as they gradually faded away. He Shenyan stepped forward and carefully gathered their ashes bit by bit, patiently placing them into a box he had just created, making sure not a single speck was left behind.
After hesitating for a moment, he said, "May Goddess Melitele bless your souls."
Then he walked to the desk, opened a drawer, and took out an exquisite diary. He did not even want to open it. Seeing what that Vampire had done once was disgusting enough; he had no desire to look through it a second time. He spread it open and tossed it onto the desk before leaving.
--
"Oh, gods! He looks horrible!"
"Tell me about it."
"Hey! Jerry! Get back here! What's a child doing running over to watch this? Want me to beat you?"
The crowd's clamor continued at the mouth of the alley. The corpse collector shouted irritably, "For the gods' sake! Can't you all scatter and mind your own business? Has no one taught you to respect the deceased?"
His furious voice finally made the people disperse somewhat. At least, their discussions were no longer so loud. The corpse collector used a shovel to place the man's body, broken into three pieces, onto his cart bit by bit. He had been in this line of work for many years and had seen no fewer than ten thousand corpses, but he had rarely seen anyone die so horribly.
He muttered to himself that it was probably another lunatic's work. Maybe it had been one of those Mutant bastards. Fuck. He had seen one on the street just yesterday. What rotten luck.
Despite his wandering thoughts, his hands did not slow in the slightest. He quickly gathered the body and delivered it to the coroner.
To his surprise, the coroner turned pale and stumbled back repeatedly the moment he saw the man's face. Pointing at the mangled corpse, he asked, "Y-you... where did you find him?"
The corpse collector had no idea what was going on, but he knew it could not be anything good. So he said, "Sir, this has nothing to do with me."
"I... who said it had anything to do with you? Tell me where you found him!" The coroner nearly choked on his breath from anger at this idiot. Once he got his answer, he immediately reported it to the guards. That afternoon, the merchant guild learned that Hubert, their young and promising coroner, had died. They immediately sent people to seize whatever they could from Hubert's home. When two workers opened the basement door, they let out a scream.
--
Geralt carefully examined the disorderly traces throughout the room. Beside him, a man anxiously rubbed what little hair he had left, looking as though he wanted to make it even scarcer.
Feeling somewhat disturbed, the Witcher glanced at him and said, "Could you be quiet for a while?"
"Who? Oh, me? All right, all right." It took the man a moment to realize Geralt meant him, and he immediately fell silent.
Geralt turned back to the chaotic living room. Clothes and all kinds of dinner plates had been thrown across the floor. Amid the mess lay a twisted, blackened, hideous arm. Huge amounts of blood had splattered throughout the entire room, from ceiling to floor. There was so much of it that he almost suspected five people had died here.
But apart from that, there was nothing.
No footprints, no smell, no signs of a struggle—only an arm that had appeared out of nowhere and a massive amount of blood.
The Witcher, dressed in a brand-new suit of studded leather armor, sighed. He rarely encountered anything this troublesome. The clues were pitifully scarce. He loosened the strap over his shoulder so he could grasp the silver sword on his back at any time, then asked the man, "Tell me the details."
The man looked miserable. "I already told you, master! When I woke up this morning, all this stuff had appeared in my house. It nearly scared me to death! I didn't dare report it to the guards either. My wife said we had to hire you Witchers, and it took me forever to find you."
"Yes, you did tell me that. Didn't you hear anything during the night?"
"I sleep pretty heavily, master, but you can ask my wife."
After saying that, the man shouted outside, "Aurelia! Get in here! Hurry up! The Witcher master has something to ask you!"
A woman in a long-sleeved shirt walked in. She had chestnut hair, and her brown eyes were filled with unease. "M-master, what is it?"
Her husband roughly yanked her over. The woman cried out in pain as the man asked, "Did you hear anything last night?"
"Uh... nothing except your snoring."
The woman's answer left Geralt, who had not held much hope to begin with, silent. He said, "My advice is to move out."
Ignoring the man, who became agitated at those words, he turned toward the arm and carefully examined every finger. Gradually, a conjecture took shape in his mind. He stood up and said in a hoarse voice, "I'm not telling you to move away permanently. Just stay somewhere else for two days. An inn, or a relative's home. I don't care where, but you'd better not stay here for the next two days."
"Then... what about you, master?" the woman asked.
Geralt pulled over a chair and sat down. "I'll wait here and see whether that thing shows up."
"Also, could you help me call in my companion outside?"
The woman immediately said excitedly, "Oh! You mean that gentleman in black robes? I'll go!"
"Hey! What black robes? You crazy woman, get back here!"
Her furious husband shouted after her, but she no longer cared in the slightest. Two minutes later, an Eastern man in black robes entered the house and greeted Geralt.
That concludes the five updates. Please vote. Also, from now on there should be two updates on Mondays, Wednesdays, and Fridays, and five on Tuesdays, Thursdays, Saturdays, and Sundays. If I'm in a good mood, there may be extra updates too. If you think the author's writing is decent, please give me a vote~
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