Geralt poured magic into his eyes, activating Spirit Sight and Night Vision. His pupils shifted from black to deep blue.
Through the floor-to-ceiling window, Geralt saw a Ghost and two men and two women.
The Ghost floated in the air with green light covering his face. It was Harold Kovos.
Under Spirit Sight, black mist coiled around Harold, as thick as ink that would not disperse.
Without a doubt, this was a Wraith.
Under normal circumstances, Wraiths were C-class Monsters. In other words, this mission's rating had been slightly off.
But that did not matter.
Unexpected developments were quite common. They were part of the mission itself.
The burly man was desperately pushing the door, but it would not budge. Once his strength gave out, he collapsed to the floor in despair, revealing a broken, miserable smile.
The other man was thin and wore glasses. His body shook like a leaf, yet he still tried to shield one of the women behind him.
—So courage often had nothing to do with physical strength.
The woman behind the thin man had a hot figure. Though young, she looked as if she had been through a lot.
At that moment, she had completely lost her mind and screamed on instinct.
It was said that screaming was the result of human evolution, mainly serving three purposes: relieving stress, calling for help, and scaring off certain predators.
Sometimes screams were useful. Sometimes they just seemed stupid.
Geralt noted two things:
First, that woman's chest muscles were really strong. No wonder her lung capacity was so impressive.
Second, the villa's soundproofing was really good.
The last woman had delicate features and seemed to be negotiating with the Ghost.
Muscle man... nerd... sexy woman... innocent woman—the standard cast of a traditional horror movie. It was practically