The Divine Hunter

It was business as usual in the business district that was one river across the slums, though one tiny thing was different. Five witchers, one Zerrikanian lady, and Carl were standing right outside two empty shops. Their smiles were as bright as the sun that day.

One of the shops was bigger than the other. It was about the size of a regular inn, while the smaller one was enough to convert into a clothing store.

***

"Are you serious, lads? We own this now?"

"Yep. Here are the deeds. Doesn't get more serious than this." Serrit showed off the deeds to his colleague. Kantilla and Carl looked at them curiously.

Auckes happily went around the shops, knocking around. It was like he just saw an empty shop for the first time. He clicked his tongue. "This is the fanciest stretch of land in Novigrad. It's gonna cost a boatload of crowns just to buy these shops."

"Twenty thousand crowns, to be exact." A smile curled Serrit's lips. His voice was almost trembling with excitement. "And nobody would be so stupid as to sell it."

This was the most popular stretch of land in the Northern Kingdom's center of economy. Unless they were being stupid with operations, any moron could make money easily just by setting up shop here. The money they make would be enough to feed their families.

"What about the school's revival?" Roy clenched his jaw and shot him a glare, though he was amused by the idea of Auckes being a shopkeeper.

"Doesn't contradict the idea of running a shop," Auckes retorted, cocking his eyebrow.

Everyone mused on it. Having a business didn't contradict their goal of reviving their school. Instead, they would have a constant stream of funds going toward that goal.

The problem here was that witchers weren’t normally businessmen. Most witchers had no talent for business. All they ever did was follow the tradition of taking requests and killing monsters.

He turned his sights to Felix and thumped his chest confidently. "If you ask me, Felix, I say you should invest your share of the fortune in the shops. It's gonna make you more coins than you can ever imagine."

Felix cocked his eyebrow. He hesitated for a moment. Cats were humble witchers. They spent their lives taking requests, fighting monsters, and taking what life had to offer them. That was all.

The witchers fell into silence.

"Any ideas, Kantilla?"

Kantilla scratched her head. She looked lost as well. Business was not part of her plan for the future. She had no idea how to run a store either. "A clothing store?"

The witchers vetoed that idea.

"I've actually thought about this…" Roy tossed a dried anchovy into his hood. He said, "Why don't we make this smaller store into an apothecary's shop? Potions are a lot easier to make compared to decoctions."

Roy counted his fingers. "Ingredient purchasing, setting up the workstation, potion making… You've done all that for decades; you can practically do it with your eyes closed. There's no need to even learn it all again."

A while back, Roy and Felix made poor Carl take that potion with the pretext of toxicity endurance training. The effects were… exceptional. Carl felt what it was like to have a boner a few years before he was supposed to get his first one. And there were no side effects.

"Good idea. Potionmaking is easy for us."

"And there's not much need for labor or logistics either. I think that's doable."

Everyone agreed. Felix was tempted to join. If they could open up this shop, he could train Carl's alchemy right here.

"No objections? Then we've reached an agreement," Letho announced. "The shop on the left is gonna be converted into an apothecary shop, and we're hiring renovators this afternoon."

"Once we calculate the total expenses…" Serrit said, "You can decide whether you want in or out, Felix. You'll own no more than twenty percent of the shares, of course."

"Sure. What are we gonna call the shop?"

"How about Gorthur Gvaed? To commemorate the fortress in the south," Auckes suggested.

Felix had no objections, so the plans to renovate Gorthur Gvaed went underway. However, everyone had their own opinions on what should be done with the other shop.

"I say we open an inn." Serrit gulped. "This whole city's filled with alcoholics. We're gonna have a steady stream of customers. And where there's customers, there's money. Simple logic."

***

"Shut up, you two. Neither of your ideas are feasible," Letho said. "I say we open up a smithy. We're not master blacksmiths like Berengar, but we do have some skills. Forging regular weapons and farming tools isn’t beyond us. All we have to do is hire some apprentices, and we can absolutely handle the business."

"We've killed enough in our line of work," Auckes complained. "I say we open a brothel."

"We're setting off for Kaer Morhen soon. I say we open an inn."

"I still think a smithy's the better option."

Roy held his forehead and turned around. He met Kantilla and Carl's gazes. The three of them sighed.

***

"Sunshine warms the heart, akin to a long-awaited reunion. An old friend sends his regards, and to you I greet, my friends. Hello, witchers, Lady Kantilla, and young, lovely Carl."

A handsome man in conspicuous red pants, floral shirt, and purple hat approached the group. He sported an elegant mustache over his lips. A plump, gorgeous, blonde lady was standing by his side.

"You might have heard of this, but…" Dandelion sighed. He had a melancholic look on his face. "Just a few days ago, Alonso was surrounded by the other gang lords. He and his men were massacred. Rumors say he broke some secret treaty. I lost my only sponsor in Novigrad. Making a living in this city just became that much harder for me."

"And now…" Dandelion continued, "Priscilla and I are going to Rosemary and Thyme down the street to reminisce about the good old times and talk about the contributions Whoreson Senior made for the world of art. My colleagues and I are going to write a commemorative epic for him."

"Yes." Priscilla looked a little sad as well.

For most Novigradians, Whoreson Senior was a bully and a demon, but for bards, he was one of their greatest allies. After all, he was a poetry enthusiast.

***

"What were you arguing about, witchers?" Dandelion looked at the group and the empty shops curiously.

"Let me explain." Roy smiled. He said, "We pooled our funds together and bought these shops. We've decided what to do with the smaller one, but not the bigger o—"

Before Roy could finish, Auckes approached Dandelion warmly and thumped his chest. The bard gasped in pain and held his chest. He almost howled in agony.

"Perfect timing, Dandelion! We're going to turn this place into Novigrad's biggest brothel. You're a talented bard. You're the perfect man to make a poem about this new place." Auckes wrapped his arm around Dandelion's shoulder and shook him excitedly.

Dandelion almost saw stars.

"We were going to make it an inn!"

"A smithy!"

"A training center!"

"Hold it, hold it… Hands off me, ow!" Dandelion managed to escape Auckes' grasp and wiped the sweat off his forehead. "So you're saying… Ow… You haven't decided what to do with this shop?"

"We're still talking about it." Roy shot the witchers a look of unspoken plea, and they shut up. "Dandelion, Priscilla, you've been in Novigrad for a while now. You know business better than we do. Do you have any suggestions for us?"

Priscilla contemplated the question.

Dandelion stared at the shop. A desire was building up within him. It was a wish he had kept hidden; a dream he never told anyone. He could never realize that dream all by himself, but now he had a chance.

The bard gulped. He chose his words carefully and suggested, "You have decent ideas, witchers. Why don't… I mean, why don't you mash them together and give it a little twist?"

"What are you trying to say, Dandelion?" The witchers set their gazes on him.

The bard froze for a moment and tried to put on the biggest smile he could muster. "How does a ballroom sound? You can drink, have fun, and even train in a ballroom."

Priscilla pushed her hair away, and her eyes sparkled as well. She had always dreamed of having a place to perform.

"You can do all that in a ballroom?" Auckes was surprised.

"Yes. Well, an actual ballroom anyway. Nothing carnal involved. The customers are provided with a more luxurious experience in a ballroom." Dandelion was trying to paint a pretty picture for the witchers. "There's only gonna be weak alcohol involved. Something like wine. That'll keep the patrons from getting too drunk and smashing things around, so to speak. And then we'll start every session with a drama, keep things going with some wine, and end it with poetry. And a little dance before everyone retires for the night." Dandelion smiled. He had a look of longing in his eyes. "That's how the upper society enjoys life. If we can take that enjoyment and introduce it to the people, it's going to be a hit. Guaranteed."

"So that means my poems can finally see some use!" Auckes kept winking at Serrit.

"Hold it. Are you sure that'll work?" Letho and Felix asked. "We're monster killers, and you expect us to run a… a ballroom? Everyone's going to laugh at us. You don't see farmers running an opera theater."

"More importantly, we don't have time to run something this intricate."

"Do not fret, witchers. If you think my idea works…" Dandelion put his hands in a prayer. He pleaded, "Priscilla and I are more than willing to run the show for you. You'll get ninety percent of the profit. We only need enough to put food on the table. The contract will flesh this out."

"How much is this going to cost?"

"We're going for the theater style when it comes to renovation, so that'll probably take two thousand crowns. And then we'll have to hire dancers and actors. That'll cost…" He rubbed his chin and made the calculations in his head. "No less than four hundred crowns per month, but no more than five hundred. But I promise I'll record every single expense. And you can audit it anytime you want. We'll close up shop if we make a loss for three consecutive months. That's a promise."

Felix looked at Serrit. He made the calculations in his head, then he nodded. Both of them had no objections.

Letho sighed. "You took care of Moore and Susie in our absence, Priscilla. That's a big help for the kid. I'll grant you your wish."

The bards were delighted. They stared at Roy. Now all they needed was his approval.

Felix frowned. He had no idea what Roy was thinking. The Vipers, however, had a guess.

If they wanted to revive their school and take in new blood, turning the image of witchers around and breaking the ugly stereotypes were necessary. They must leave a good impression among the people.

Foltest refused to help them back in Vizima. They were willing to try it out again in Novigrad.

Dandelion and Priscilla exchanged a smile.

"Witchers, I promise I will create at least two new works every month to extol your virtues to the people. If everything goes well, I'll put even more effort into it. The poems and scripts will be written by yours truly. They'll be on par with that show in Vizima. The one they call Legend of the Sewer Butcher."

"Once the ballroom opens up…" Roy looked at the couple. "I will be submitting a work of my own, and I would like Priscilla to present it. I look forward to a brilliant interpretation."

"And I shall be waiting." Priscilla bent her knees and nodded at the witchers.

***

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