"A few days ago, a farmer from our town had just come out of the tavern, but he couldn't find his way home no matter what. In the end, he had to spend the night out on the street."
Lynn pressed a hand to his forehead. "Was that farmer reeking of alcohol and dead drunk?"
The mayor looked puzzled. "That's right, but is there necessarily any connection between the two?"
Lynn sighed and asked, "Anything else?"
"Yes. There's a strange fish in the river not far from town. It lurks in the water and sometimes suddenly leaps out and drags washerwomen away."
At that, Lynn immediately sat up straight.
"How many victims have there been so far?"
The mayor froze for a moment before answering slowly.
"Not a single one yet."
"Then how do you know there's a strange fish in the river?"
"Because that's what the washerwomen say."
"But you just said a strange fish dragged washerwomen away. Who said that?"
"Luther. He solemnly assured me he saw it with his own eyes."
After that, the mayor went on about a whole host of strange incidents in town.
But every one of them sounded like a tale country folk had made up to relieve their boredom.
Still, Lynn showed not the slightest impatience and patiently heard them all out.
Finally, he stood up.
"I understand, Mr. Mayor. It seems the situation in town really is serious."
"But before I attend to your town's affairs, I have some other things to take care of. I'll be back, and then I'll see what I can help with."
Lynn pushed open the tavern door and walked out, leaving the noise and bustle behind.
He headed straight out of town. Geralt was waiting for him beside the notice board at the entrance, holding Roach's reins.
"You're back. What's the contract?"
Lynn spread his hands helplessly.
"The mayor certainly told me a lot, but I suspect those so-called monsters are all products of the townspeople's imaginations."
"A farmer reeking of alcohol couldn't find his way home. That wasn't some monster leading him astray. He was simply drunk."
"The washerwomen insist there's a strange fish in the river, but there hasn't been a single victim so far, and all the testimony is just their side of the story."
"More importantly, if a bloodthirsty monster really appeared somewhere, the people there ought to look worried."
"But from what I saw, everyone here was in high spirits, singing and dancing as though all was well, treating these rumors as conversation pieces."
Geralt nodded in agreement.
"True. Sometimes the information people give us isn't accurate. I once encountered a case where the person involved insisted she was possessed by an evil spirit, but after investigating, I found..."
"The so-called evil spirit was actually her husband's doing. He deliberately mimicked the signs of possession to mislead her and the neighbors into thinking along those lines, so he could later murder her and make it look like an evil spirit had killed her."
"Still, since you think there aren't any monsters here, should we leave this town and look for work elsewhere?"
Lynn thought for a moment, then shook his head.
"No. To be safe, we'd better stay for now and check again with our own eyes."
Geralt nodded in agreement.
And so they stayed in the town.
Lynn kept watch by the river, while Geralt went to find the drunken farmer the mayor had mentioned, along with the others.
Over the next few days, neither of them found anything.
Keeping watch by the river, Lynn found no strange fish. Instead, his exceptional good looks earned him an enthusiastic crowd of washerwomen.
Things were much the same on Geralt's end.
Following the "victims'" accounts, he investigated the sites of the incidents, but there were no traces apart from the "victims'" own footprints.
In the end, they spent several days in town without anything happening.
That was indeed enough to prove there really were no monsters in town.
Neither of them felt discouraged by this, however.
If anything, it was better for monsters to exist only in the villagers' tales rather than in reality.
But they had not gone far after leaving town when a peasant without so much as a pair of shoes caught up with them, running barefoot through the mud.
He said breathlessly, "Praise the gods, honored masters."
Geralt brought Roach to a halt and nodded to the peasant. "We offer the same praise."
The peasant bent over, bracing his hands on his knees as he panted.
"I saw you working for the mayor in town, and I heard you were witchers. Our village is under threat from a monster, and we need a witcher's help."
"If you need work, come with me, masters."
Lynn and Geralt exchanged a glance.
"What kind of monster?"
The peasant rubbed his hands awkwardly. "I... I'm not much of a speaker. I can't explain things clearly. Please, just come with me. Every household has chipped in. We won't short you a single coin, masters."
Geralt did not agree immediately. "Lynn, what do you think?"
He wanted Lynn to make his own choices as much as possible.
Whether the outcome was good or bad.
Only then could Lynn grow as quickly as possible.
Lynn agreed without much hesitation.
"It costs nothing, so we might as well believe a little."
"Thank you for your kindness, young master. Let's hurry, then. If we walk fast, we can get there before sunset."
By the time Lynn and Geralt finally reached the village the peasant had spoken of, the sky had already grown dim.
Yet a large crowd was still gathered at the village entrance.
"Witchers!"
"The witchers are here!"
"Those are witchers? They don't look any different from ordinary mercenaries. Can they kill a monster? We'd better not end up having to collect their bodies."
"What are you saying? Witchers are experts at killing monsters."
The peasant guiding the two witchers waved his arms vigorously as though shooing the crowd away.
"Move along, move along! Nothing to see here! Don't block the way!"
Following the peasant, Lynn and Geralt walked all the way to the village elder.
"Elder, I've brought the master witchers back for you."
The village elder was a balding man in his forties with a face full of worry.
Upon seeing Lynn and Geralt, he seemed to breathe a sigh of relief and gestured for them to enter. "Good, good. Please come in, master witchers. Let's talk inside."