Serious person, who is learning magic in Marvel?

Geralt looked at the corpse in front of him and remained silent. His right cheek reflected the orange light of the stove, and his vertical pupils carefully observed the corpse of Baron Targaryen, paying special attention to his neck.

He Shenyan stood at the door of the morgue and did not choose to go in. It was not because of the smell. The coroner in charge used a mixture of several herbs to make the room completely free of the smell of corpses. Although the Kaedwen people are vulgar,

But there is strange rigor in preserving corpses.

They even found a few mages to jointly cast spells on the morgue, and they would do it again every four months to ensure that the corpses could be stored at low temperatures. However, this was not the point.

"So, Master Witcher, have you finished reading?"

The royal coroner in a thick brown robe wiped the sweat from his forehead and asked Geralt nervously. The witcher did not answer him immediately, but turned to look at He Shenyan who was standing at the door.

The mage nodded towards him and called to the coroner: "Mr. Berwick, please come with me."

"Of course, of course."

The coroner nodded and bowed and went out with the mage, but his nervousness was not relieved at all.

He put the handkerchief to wipe his sweat into his pocket. He Shenyan could see that the coroner was trying hard to calm down his trembling shoulders.

After he calmed down a bit, he spoke in a respectful but difficult tone: "My lord, I can let you stay here for at most thirty minutes. The person in charge of the burial of Baron Targaryen in the palace will be arriving soon.

"

"It's okay, Mr. Berwick. We won't make it difficult for you."

He Shenyan smiled, gestured to the nervous coroner, and a blue light flashed: "Wait for us outside the door, okay? We will come out within twenty minutes, and then you will forget what happened today

thing."

The coroner's eyes became a little dull. He nodded and left quickly. He Shenyan watched his back disappear into the corridor with a calm expression.

He opened the door, returned to the morgue, and asked, "Did you see anything?"

"He definitely did not commit suicide." Geralt said firmly. "There are no marks left by the noose on his neck. He was strangled to death. A barefoot doctor in the countryside can see this. I don't believe the royal autopsy."

The officer can't see this, he is definitely lying."

"Don't be angry with a little person. Mr. Geralt Berwick has served in his position for thirty years and will retire next year. What do you think he can do against the mastermind? He is the 'royal' coroner.

"

He Shenyan walked to the cold iron platform where Baron Targaryen was lying. He stared at the obvious purple marks on the Baron's neck and suddenly said: "Maybe we should go to his home and have a look."

"What?"

"His home, Geralt. A single baron died without a will. His money would obviously be taken away by the king and put into the treasury. If we want to find some clues, his home is the best place to go.

"

"You mean, this is all the king's handiwork?"

"Maybe." He Shenyan said noncommittally. "Just maybe."

"I hope just maybe," the witcher said gloomily. "But my intuition is telling me the opposite, and Henselt has never left a good impression on me."

"oh?"

"He is more of a thief than a king." The witcher replied briefly.

“Interesting review.”

----------------------------------------

"Unbelievable."

A man wearing a tight velvet shirt stood in the small courtyard of Baron Targaryen and exclaimed: "He lives in a place like this?"

Three guards stood in front of the courtyard door, firmly guarding the only exit. Six palace servants were constantly coming in and out, constantly moving all the things in the Baron's house out. His sofa, the collection of

Some art paintings and even the iron pots and plates in the kitchen have not been spared.

A carriage stopped in front of the door, with two guards on board. The carriage would transport things to the auction house and sell them, and the money would be taken away and added to the treasury.

The man rubbed his belly. He drank a bottle of Dongzhidong from Toussaint at noon. The wine was good, but it had some chemical reactions with the things he ate. This made him sigh a little uncomfortably.

Taking a breath, the golden ring on his right hand that was rubbing his belly shone in the sunlight.

"Sir, the things have been moved."

A servant walked up to the man, bowed his head respectfully, and handed him a document in his hand. The other servants left the house, their work had been completed: "This is the Baron's house document, do you want it?"

"

The man glanced briefly at the document, then at the size of the house, and finally shook his head.

"No need. Targaryen's house isn't worth much, so it's better to sell it. Later, send someone to the bank to find out Targaryen's property income this year and how much money he donated.

We are going to the Temple of Meritele in the afternoon to get back all the money he donated."

His casual and frivolous words made the servant pale with fright. He suddenly raised his head and his voice became shrill: "My lord? Go to the Temple of Meriteri to ask for money? But...

.”

"Yes, the king's order." The man smiled. "I don't want to either, but our King, you know very well, he only wants money."

After waving the servant out, the man's eyes moved to the baron's chair. He pulled it over and sat on it. He lay back and sighed comfortably.

"I take it back, the place you live in is not bad, Targaryen. You are also a good person."

He stared at the tree and whispered softly: "But good people don't live long."

At this moment, the door was pushed open. He thought that the person who walked in was the coachman asking if he wanted to leave, but what walked in was a demon hunter with a sword on his back, and another man wearing a black robe with extraordinary bearing.

oriental man.

"what happened?"

The man stood up suddenly and frowned at the two uninvited guests. Where were the guards at the door? Why didn't they stop these two people? The man tilted his head slightly, glanced outside from the side of the witcher, and saw

The three guards fell to the ground, not knowing whether they were alive or dead. This scene immediately made him feel cold all over.

"who are you?!"

"Who are we? Well, he's a witcher who likes to meddle, and I'm a mage who likes to meddle."

He saw the oriental man who called himself a mage shrug his shoulders, and then his right hand lit up with a blue light. The man didn't know anything about what happened next.