Wizard: This witcher is neglecting his duties.

Chapter 41 Fox Tavern (Seeking monthly tickets, rewards, and favorites)

Due to the construction of the new Vijma city, the old city of Vijma was very lively at this time. Large numbers of workers, farmers, and traveling merchants lined up to enter the city, and the daily volume of goods entering and leaving was astonishing.

To prevent unrest in the capital, King Foltest specially dispatched an army of five hundred men to be stationed in the woods a few kilometers outside Vizima, to assist Mayor Vidrad in maintaining order throughout Vizima.

As for whether there were any other implications, Wayne speculated that perhaps King Foltest also understood that the nobles under his command were already dissatisfied, which was why he stationed troops so nearby to maintain stability.

Although this king was criticized for his private life, among the many future kings of the North, only a handful, such as King Foltest, could be considered wise monarchs; the rest were mostly incompetent and useless.

The Kingdom of Nilfgaard was able to conquer the north so quickly thanks in no small part to these incompetent allies.

The Rewaden caravan queued near the city gate for nearly half an hour before being allowed to enter the city under the inspection and supervision of a group of soldiers.

With the caravan entering the city, Wayne and his men's escort mission was considered complete.

He rode up to Rewaden, looked at the smiling, portly merchant, expressed his gratitude, and after receiving his payment, bid a friendly farewell to the southern merchant.

However, upon parting, Rewaden said very warmly:

"Mr. Wayne, I stayed at the Kingfisher Inn before my new house was built. I have great admiration for the Witcher's skills. I'm sure there will be opportunities for us to cooperate in the future, and I hope we can stay in touch more often."

"Once you have confirmed your address, please send someone to let me know. I have a request to make to you soon."

"Of course, the reward will be quite generous, please don't refuse."

Hearing that Reward had a request, Wayne naturally wouldn't refuse. He shook the portly businessman's hand, a businesslike, friendly smile on his face, and said:

"Please rest assured, Mr. Revarden, I have great confidence in your character and abilities. As long as your request does not violate the principles of us Witchers, I will certainly not refuse."

"Moreover, my trip to Vijma wasn't just about taking on a commission. We might collaborate on other matters in the future, who knows?"

Hearing this, Revarden glanced at Wayne with some surprise, then showed an interested expression. Based on his understanding, witchers rarely stayed in one place for too long. He didn't know what else the two of them could cooperate on besides commissions.

However, Rewaden was a smooth man; he maintained his smile, nodded, and said:

"Yes, Mr. Wayne, I also look forward to working with you."

After their conversation, Wayne parted ways with Revarden's caravan and went to Geralt and Dandelion's side.

Dandelion was clearly getting impatient. He rode the little donkey he had bought with money borrowed from Geralt, circling around the roadside, occasionally winking at passing women, playing his lute, and showing off his singing voice.

Geralt, with his steed Carrot on his leash and a straw in his mouth, leaned against a tree, observing the passersby.

Wayne walked over to him, handed him a small purse containing fifty Oren coins, and asked:

"We've arrived in Vizima, Geralt. What are your plans?"

The white wolf spat out the grass root in his mouth, casually stuffed the money pouch into his waist bag, shrugged, and said in a hoarse voice:

"We're witchers, what else can we do?"

"Let's find a place to stay first, and then go to the city hall or the area around the pub to see if we can find any commissions."

"Also, find out the locations of the blacksmith's shop and the brothel; these two places are very important to us witchers."

Upon hearing this, Dandelion also ran over and said:

"Haha, brothel, yes, brothel."

"Believe me, Geralt. Although this is my first time in Vizima, I guarantee that the girls here will soon fall in love with me and the great poet Dandelion. When that happens, you can say you're my friend, and they might even give you a discount."

Although Wayne guessed that these two guys wouldn't be up to anything serious, he still sighed at their carefree attitude.

He thought for a moment, then spoke:

"Alright then, Geralt, you and Dandelion go out into town and see if there's anything you need."

"I need to take care of some things in the slums. Let's meet at the city hall this evening."

Upon hearing this, Geralt glanced thoughtfully at Wayne, then nodded, patted Wayne on the shoulder, and left with Dandelion.

He still has a lot of money on him, so he's not in a hurry to find commissions. It's better to get some equipment and have some fun. Witchers at this time never have any far-reaching ideas and mostly live a life of enjoying the present.

For a witcher, being able to eat and drink well, and casually enjoy women, is the happiest life.

After parting ways with the two, Wayne was alone again after a long time, and a feeling of loneliness and freedom welled up inside him.

Following his vague memories, he quickly found the slum where he had lived as a child.

It was a cluster of low, dilapidated wooden houses, of varying heights, with puddles and excrement everywhere on the roads. The people coming and going were poor, dressed in simple clothes and with sallow, emaciated faces.

There aren't many shops here, just a few vendors pushing carts along the roadside selling everyday items. Occasionally, shouts and curses can be heard from somewhere, adding a touch of life to the place.

Deep within this area, there is a two-story detached house with many oil lamps always lit. The door is half-open, and the interior is relatively clean. Men who appear to be slightly wealthy often come and go, and from time to time, the sounds of women moaning and cursing can be heard from inside.

This is the place where those poor prostitutes used to operate, as Wayne remembered it.

Several scantily clad but pale-faced women stood outside the house, listlessly displaying their voluptuous figures. Even if drunkards and brutes passing by tried to grope them, they would only be met with a few curses.

Not far from them, several burly men with tattoos and short knives and wooden sticks strapped to their waists leaned against a dilapidated wooden house, chatting while staring menacingly at passersby.

They were all gang members in the area, responsible for looking after the prostitutes. Their job was to protect the prostitutes and prevent them from being taken advantage of by some poor bastards, and also to collect exorbitant protection fees from these women to sustain the gang's livelihood.

About ten meters away from the brothel, there was a two-story tavern that looked quite old, with the name Fox Tavern on its sign.

Compared to the poor and dirty slums, this tavern was the only one that was relatively clean. Steam was constantly billowing from the chimney on the roof, and from time to time, rude laughter and indistinct curses could be heard coming from inside the tavern.

Upon seeing the name of the tavern, Wayne's eyes lit up. In his hazy memory, Wayne had worked here as a clerk for a while when he was a child, helping the owner wash dishes and serve drinks.

Besides the free room and board, I also received a meager salary of a dozen or so copper coins each week, which is a very memorable part of my childhood.

If he wants to obtain any information about the past, this is a good choice.

With that thought in mind, he walked around the muddy ground, pushed open the blanket blocking the cold wind at the tavern door, and entered the Fox Tavern.

(Thanks to Daji, Bigan, and Sleepy Summer for their generous donations! I'm a new author, so please feel free to offer your opinions and comments. Thank you!)

(End of this chapter)