Bear School Astartes

”What’s going on with you?”

Seeing that he wasn’t the only one having bad luck, the old veteran was also experiencing misfortune, Lann felt a lot better suddenly.

Geralt was momentarily blinded by the silver-haired smile, he had already dug a rather deep hole, and in that brief distraction, the shovel missed the dirt and hit the void, causing him to stumble and nearly fall in.

Fortunately, he reacted quickly, sticking the empty shovel into the ground beside him to steady himself.

”For the sake of the plague...”

He instinctively cursed a bit before turning his head.

”When I got here, the villagers were troubled by the water ghosts in the lake. They came smiling, seeking help, and even offered a bounty, so I agreed.”

”But it wasn’t just water ghosts! It was a swamp witch with four or five even more ferocious drowning ghosts!”

Lann wasn’t particularly surprised upon hearing this, as it was rather common.

”And then? You can’t expect farmers to know the difference between monster species like a demon hunter. To them, any creature living in water and harming humans is a ’water ghost’.”

Geralt adjusted his grip on the shovel, continuing to dig with great effort while using his distinctly calm tone to retort.

It’s quite comedic when retorts come from someone whose voice is so calm it barely fluctuates, even if what he said wasn’t particularly funny.

”What else could I do? I killed the swamp witch and the drowning ghosts, then brought back the heads for payment. But... you know what those farmers say when they want to dodge payment, right?”

”Let me think...” Lann casually rattled off a string of typical excuses, ”Kind sir, have mercy, my child is eating acorn flour to stave off hunger, we really don’t have money, blah blah.”

Geralt nodded.

”That’s right, but you put it too generally. The village elder explained it in more detail: The king wants to push the Brokilon boundary inward a bit for more timber and minerals. For this, there’s now a war tax in the nearby area, along with conscription. If the village doesn’t want to provide labor, they must pay instead. In just a few months, taxes have been levied multiple times. They’re barely able to eat now; even though they live by the lake, there’s not even a smoked fish on the table...”

”Tsk tsk.” The young demon hunter with the Valerian steel formula, who never expected to worry about money again, clicked his tongue lightly.

”Seems like your professional expression isn’t working very well.”

The White Wolf sighed, ”In the end, I only received ten Oren coins, originally it was supposed to be twenty. But even those ten, they tried to fake it! They mixed Silver Coins and stones in the money pouch!”

”That’s why I’m digging here to get the payment that belongs to me.”

Lann looked around and understood the situation.

This village has only a little over twenty households; in the Northern Countries, such villages are commonplace. People pool money to purchase and repair farming tools, buy seeds and livestock, and conduct business.

Using numbers and collective strength to resist natural disasters and human misfortunes is the survival method spontaneously formed by villagers.

And in such villages, the collective assets are usually stored in a hidden place.

For demon hunters, the commoner’s hiding is not considered hiding.

”Although it’s a bit rude, I’ll still confirm... you would only take what you deserve, right?”

Lann walked next to the hole Geralt was digging, where a hoe was placed for loosening the soil.

The old Wolf demon hunter rolled his eyes at the Bear cub: ”What do you take me for? I’m a demon hunter who works for pay, not a shameless robber.”

So Lann shrugged his shoulders, picked up the hoe, and started digging with him.

After digging about two feet more downward, they finally unearthed a small jewelry box-like chest.

Lann leaned on the hoe and stood aside, while Geralt whistled, feeling assured that his efforts were finally about to pay off.

But when he rubbed his hands and opened the box, his already expressionless face froze.

Seeing this, Lann curiously leaned over, and after glancing inside, the amused expression vanished from his face.

”Just this, not even a single Oren coin?... Are you sure you didn’t get it wrong?”

Geralt shook his head, ”I didn’t get it wrong... This is their last remaining asset. I even snuck into the elder’s house and rummaged around.”

Lann was silent for a moment, then sighed.

”So, those villagers weren’t lying to you.”

Geralt pursed his lips, ”I thought they had money they didn’t want to spare, seeing they still had dogs and chickens in the village. But now it seems... they will have to eat their livestock and poultry soon.”

With a ”thud”, Geralt took a deep breath and irritably closed the small chest, tossing it back into the newly dug hole.

”Let it be.”

”You haven’t taken any money, don’t want it?”

”Forget it.” Geralt hesitated, then picked up the shovel again to start filling in the dirt. ”It’s not even enough to repair a sword.”

While his shovel was swinging and sand flew, a gleam of gold flashed by, falling into the hole.

The white-haired demon hunter looked back in surprise at Lann, who was withdrawing his hand from the money pouch, and then continued working.

”I’ve truly never seen a demon hunter toss money into a hole, one whole uncut Oren coin, truly generous.”

”Well, you’ve seen it today.”

The hoe couldn’t fill the soil, so Lann stood by with his arms crossed, watching Geralt work.

”Spending money is for living. If money satisfies physiological needs, then spending extra is for happiness. This Oren would spare me much trouble these days very worthwhile.”

Faced with the serious and righteous consumerist brainwashing from the Bear cub behind him, the stiff corners of the working Geralt’s mouth involuntarily lifted into a slight arc.

”Suit yourself, ’wealthy man’. That’s your money anyway.”

When leaving, Geralt no longer maintained the ’safe distance’ tacitly agreed upon with Lann.

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

”To be honest, if not for your recent conduct, I would’ve suspected you were a psychotic serial killer. Investigating a clue could lead to this...tsk, did you use the Page Hammer? Beaten to such a sorry state.”

Geralt lifted a corner of the canvas on Bopai’s back, blackened blood immediately dripped down in a stream, splashing onto the ground.

He turned with a deliberately skeptical expression to look at the Bear School demon hunter standing nearby.

”Were you deliberately letting me lower my guard earlier?”

”Haha.” Lann cooperatively emitted two totally emotionless chuckles, a smirk devoid of genuine feeling. ”You wolves always know how to crack jokes. Now then...”

”Could we focus on proper business first?”

Lann had already completely informed Geralt of what happened at the border of Brook Leon Forest and the investigation results, waiting for this experienced expert to draw conclusions.