Serious People, Who is Learning Magic at Marvel? - v14 Chapter 46 gem

Latest URL: "He accepted?"

"No, sir."

Jack bowed slightly: "Walpole Royin told me the truth, he is afraid that if he does what you want, he will be killed by other giants tomorrow."

"madness."

Alphonse Willy commented: "It's too stupid, doesn't he think that making a deal with me means he is protected by me? Those **** and the Swordsmen together can't fight me... "

Old Hawthorne sighed: "Forget it, I can't blame him."

"Walpole Royin is only a small character after all, if he has the ability to truly unite the beggars under his hands, no one in the city can underestimate him, let alone treat him as a lingering, huh The guy who is going."

Old Hawthorne stood up from his chair, Jack still keeping his head down, maintaining his demeanor. Hawthorne turned and stared at the scene in front of him.

Since he was beaten half to death by the witcher... no, that shouldn't be said.

Since his casino was completely destroyed by the witcher, and he was beaten half to death, he changed his office. No longer living underground like a mouse, but moving above the ground. His office is at the back of a bank, and that bank...

Needless to say, it was his.

At this moment, he was looking at the leader's square, at the vendors, citizens, and beggars. People come and go. As the sun sets, people rush home for dinner. The city was as bustling and crowded as ever, but Alphonse Willie knew something else.

It sucks.

From top to bottom, from government officials to those who can't see the light. Loan sharks, thugs, gangsters, even people like him—they were all bought by the Swordsmen. No one in the world can't live with money, benevolence and morality can be betrayed, and interests are eternal.

Once upon a time, Alphonse thought so too. Until he figured out what the sharp swords group he wanted to work with was doing for a living.

Human trafficking.

He won't touch this.

never.

How ironic is this thing to say? All turned a blind eye to the darkness in front of them that allowed them to go to hell, even in it. And the underworld giant who has stood for 40 years in Novigrad is determined to drive out the darkness.

A slow smile appeared on Hawthorne's face: They really should give Lao Tzu an award, or make me mayor.

"So, Jack. You won't let me down, I know that. Let me guess, you're using your backhand again?"

"Yes, sir. I asked Walpole to find one of his staff to find out on his behalf. The beggars exchange information with each other, and he can also find out where the witcher is, just It will be slower."

"Good job." Hawthorne nodded slowly.

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"I can't believe it, Geralt. The first thing you did when you got back to Novigrad was not to come to me, but to buy a dress that fit?"

A woman dressed in a relatively 'thin' said angrily to the witcher, who was extremely embarrassed by the situation. Although this woman is indeed his old acquaintance, old friend, but...

He Shenyan was still beside him.

The mage was looking at him with a smirk. His face remained calm, his expression unmoved, but Geralt only had to look at those smiling eyes to see what he was thinking. Geralt let out a sigh in his heart. He turned his head away, his expression very complicated.

"Tavia, listen, I'm a witcher, not a professional whore, okay? Sometimes I do have to make sure I look like a witcher first, not a beggar or something."

After a few words, Geralt turned things in the other direction: "By the way, why are you here? I thought you were working in the store."

"work?"

The woman he called Tavia had wheat-colored skin, and her long black hair cascading down her shoulders like a waterfall. In this day and age, women who don't tie their hair or wrap their hair have about two careers.

One is a prostitute. The second is a sorceress. And this Tavia is obviously the former.

Geralt didn't discriminate against their career choices. He knew that if people had a choice, they wouldn't do it, unless you were a female night devil, then it's another matter.

Tavia laughed: "Fool, you haven't been to Novigrad for too long! I'm retired!"

"retire?"

Geralt raised his eyebrows unexpectedly. "You mean you paid off your debts?"

"More than that, I actually found out that I had a talent for singing. One night, Mr. Alphonse Willie came to the store for fun. I happened to be singing. He was so excited that he immediately forgave the debt and helped by the way. I went to college, specializing in vocal music - although this class has not been around for a long time, the teacher is quite strong."

Tavia winked playfully: "Where did I learn a lot."

"Alphonse Willie?"

Geralt said unexpectedly, "Is that the one I thought? Or are you kidding me?"

They were busy chatting, and He Shenyan stood aside, holding a blue gem in his hand.

No one finds it, even if it's mesmerizingly beautiful. It was held in the hands of the Master in a grand manner, and the gradually falling sunset added thousands of brilliance to it, and the gems reflected the sunlight of the setting sun, making it reflect thousands of different colors in the air.

"Not this year..." he whispered to himself, blue light flashing in his eyes. "White boat, white boat. Find a time when the white boat just arrived on the shore."

In his vision ~www.novelbuddy.com~ the place in front of him was not Novigrad.

But the wild world thousands of years ago. At that time, it was an empty land, with an unnamed towering giant tree overhead, and some strange-shaped creatures crawling on the ground. The stone has not yet formed, the soil is still soft, and human beings have not yet appeared.

The gem continued to spin, in his hands - all the while, spinning. Persistent people are always like this, they will dig three feet for a little thing. But what he is doing now can be called turning the whole world upside down.

I have to find that point in time, but the question is, where is it?

He Shenyan's expression gradually became calm, and he had the patience and time to complete this matter. However, it is obviously not a good idea to do this on the street. A man passes him by, and his mental tentacles passively capture his thoughts.

"Found it, white-haired witcher..."

The wizard opened his eyes, and the chatter between Geralt and his old friend came to his ears again. At the same time, a man in a tattered shirt walking with his back to him was shoving into the crowd.