Chapter Ninety-Three: A Smooth Journey for the Lady Investigator

On the way home through the temple quarter, the boy took a vial of serpent-school vigor tonic from his herb bag and gulped it down in one go, feeling refreshed and full of energy.

Thinking back on the two pat-down inspections he had endured that afternoon, the “female investigator’s” ultra-modern outfit had left a deep impression. During the first search, that uncanny sensation of seeming to see everything while somehow missing nothing was truly formidable. However much his heart wanted to denounce her as shameless, little Victor still had to rise in solemn salute. By the second search, she had finally put her clothes on properly, and Victor, regrettably, was left disappointed once more.

Still, Victor already knew her name, because a desperate dispatch from his memories of a former life had come galloping in at top speed. That “fierce” female investigator was likely named Ves, skilled with a bow and also competent in swordsmanship. The accompanying memory identified her superior, and constant companion, as Vernon Roche.

Then, as the boy reviewed Roche’s image in those attached memories, Taler surfaced as an incidental bonus: a passerby who had been in the same frame as Roche a few times. A man’s memory was just that candid; it could not conjure up even a little more than that.

In short, according to the script, they were all easy people to get along with.

But that was something he would come to appreciate years later, when he experienced it as Geralt. By then, Temeria, once flourishing with all the pomp of flowers in full bloom and oil over a roaring fire, had already been shattered by Nilfgaard and ceased to exist as a kingdom. The three of them were then devoted to the great cause of restoration, living as miserably as the Scoia'tael out in the wilds now.

People are always easier to deal with when they are down on their luck.

For instance, from that brief encounter just now, the boy did not think Ves in the least friendly. That woman, shameless rogue that she was, had brazenly harassed him in broad daylight. During the search she had not only kneaded every muscle on his body, but also toyed with him with wicked, intimate familiarity, as though greatly surprised by little Victor’s proportions.

But that was all. No further events had been triggered, and Victor, broad-minded as he was, did not intend to regard it as some grievous humiliation.

Ves’s careless, dismissive attitude was the sincerest reminder, warning the boy that Victor Corleone was still a nobody, not yet at the stage for his sharp edge to show.

“The most glorious mansions rise before your eyes, and before your eyes they fall!” At the thought, a detached sense of superiority arose. Who could have imagined that the northern power of Temeria would vanish in just a few years? At the very least, he could see no sign of it at all.

Though his foresight was incomplete, history had its own inevitability and was not so easy to alter. The truth he had seen in the script gave Victor the confidence to face the future with composure.

Ciri’s return through time had probably happened not long after Temeria’s collapse.

So before this nation showed any sign of decline, he could steadily accumulate what he needed, perfect the Swallow Potion, and advance safely to becoming a monster slayer.

...

Yet the moment he returned home, Victor immediately flung that detached state of mind to the winds. All he wanted was to punch the handsome, roguishly grinning Mr. Dandelion in the face.

Clearly, during their previous conversation, he had already stressed that he did not want to become a famous bard, and Dandelion had agreed most readily. But it seemed that once he was drunk, he forgot everything and started spouting nonsense of every kind.

Still, the punch never landed, because Miss Shani was there, Angoulême was downstairs, and the three of them were seated together chatting on their chairs. The atmosphere was warm and cheerful, plainly a welcome for his return.

He noticed the table was laden with fresh drinks and delicious food: the main dishes included camembert fish tart, confit duck, roasted beef ribs, fried pork cutlets, and braised mutton. The side dishes were a huge bowl of mashed potatoes, dinner rolls, and matching butter. There was tomato soup, and for dessert, baked apples.

With one glance, Victor could tell that the elegant presentation and refined assortment were undoubtedly the work of the hairy bear tavern’s chef, after all having been treated many times by Ransmeit of the Ram Gang.

Before he could even ask why they were gathering, Angoulême burst out excitedly, “Vic, look, all these dishes were made at home by Shani and brought here by her! Isn’t that amazing? I never knew she was such a great cook!”

Stymied by that, the boy said nothing and glanced toward the bard. Dandelion was all smiles as well.

“Exactly. She said she wanted to thank you properly, so she cooked everything herself. We really never expected Shani to be such a good hand in the kitchen. We’ve all got your favor to thank for this meal.”

Faced with such praise from his little sister and senior, Shani wore a restrained yet gracious expression. As expected of a young woman accustomed to life and death, she lied without blinking and boasted without a draft, even looking faintly proud of herself. Victor was astonished in silence.

So the question was... when one discovered that a young woman was lying, what should an upright man do?

Uphold the noble righteousness in his breast and strike hard against falsehood and deception: that was the way of “righteous Victor.”

He would absolutely expose her!

The very next second after making up his mind, the boy’s expression changed naturally into one of delighted surprise. “Really? That’s wonderful! It looks so delicious. You made all of this? Incredible, it must have taken so much thought.”

At last, when Shani was praised, she laughed with just a touch of shyness. Otherwise Victor feared he might lose all confidence in girls forever. The words of women are deceitful phantoms!

“What’s going on? Why did you prepare so many delicious dishes?” the boy asked curiously.

The instant the words left his mouth, Angoulême answered first. “Because tomorrow Shani is leaving Vizima to go back to Oxenfurt University and promote stethoscopes!”

Victor froze, turning to look at the young lady. Shani’s lips curved with a smile.

“The stethoscope should be promoted to all physicians as soon as possible, so I’ve already finished my work at the hospital today. Tomorrow I’ll set off back to Redania.”

The matter had happened so suddenly that Victor could not think of what to say for a moment. He could only ask haltingly, “Traveling alone? Isn’t that dangerous?”

Shani shook her head. “It won’t be dangerous. I’m going with the medical team. We originally came from the Kingdom of Redania to provide support in response to the Catriona plague.”

“...That’s still awfully sudden. You never mentioned before that you were going back.”

The young lady smiled. “The medical team was already leaving tomorrow. I had originally planned to stay here a while longer...,” she paused slightly and lifted the stethoscope hanging from her neck, “but it changed my mind.”

“...I see.”

A filled mug of Vizima Champion was pressed into his hand. It was Dandelion.

The bard handed out beer to everyone present, then raised his own mug first toward Shani and said loudly, “Though I don’t quite understand how important this instrument is, or why it has you leaving in such haste, let us drink to you! Safe travels!”

They all raised their cups together. “Safe travels!”

That night, with the atmosphere expertly stirred up by the poet Dandelion, with the delicious food Shani had prepared, and with unlimited drinks to boot, it was naturally a successful and happy farewell feast.

...

Some say today’s parting is for a lovelier reunion in the future.

I’m sure that fellow was drunk and talking nonsense!

The fact is, once people part, they are gone.

-- Brasz of Ban Ard