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.
"They're generous." Auckes suddenly sighed. "I should have gone with you yesterday. We'd have been more persuasive. And perhaps we could have gotten more out of this deal. Like a third shop, perhaps. When that happens, I'm gonna quit taking requests. They're nothing but filthy, life threatening problems. I'm running a shop instead."
"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.
"Fate wants us to do this." Auckes strode into the shop and spread his arms. He closed his eyes and spun around. I can smell the crowns. "We just landed ourselves two shops, and we have no idea what to do with the fortune we found. Until now. We can renovate these babies and set up shop right away."
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.
They almost never ventured into any other fields of work. Is this investment really reliable? Especially when the guy who brought it up is the biggest braggart of the team? He looked at Carl, who was really dazed about everything. Should I do this for Carl? He was hesitant. "What kind of shop are we running? Do any of you even know how to run a shop?"
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."
Besides, I recorded lots of potion recipes that remedy common ailments back in the academy. With the gang lords helping us, we don't even have to worry about patent issues. On top of that, he had a trump card given to him by the genius alchemist, Kalkstein—the spirit potion. Or in simpler terms, liquid Viagra.
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.
No matter the world, any potion that could strengthen that particular aspect of the body was a profitable item. Very profitable. And easy to make too. Moore and Susie could help with the simpler tasks. No longer would they have to work their backs off just to make a few crowns from selling vegetables.
"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."
"I know what you're really after. You're after that free alcohol, aren't you?" Auckes shook his head in disdain. "Inns are a hassle. Getting a steady source of alcohol is a big problem alone, and the customers can be hard to handle. You gotta be on the ground at all times. There's no way you can open it up and just let things run its course." And then he said, "We ought to turn this baby into a brothel. If we're doing it anyway, we might as well go all in. Invest all the coins we have and make it as big as Spear's Pit. Monopoly sounds like a good idea to me."
"That's the best idea you have? A brothel? That's as much a hassle as an inn." Serrit shot him a sidelong glance. "And I know what you're really after. You're gonna recite that mushy, stupid poem of yours to all the more decent 'employees' we'll inevitably hire, aren't you?"
***
Roy's face fell. A witcher who opens a brothel? What the hell are they thinking? Pimping out women and kill the guys who try to fuck for free? Wait, what the hell am I thinking? This isn't a proud profession. He objected to it.
"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."
"I say we open up a swordplay training center," Felix argued. "Everyone knows we're skilled. They're gonna want to have a witcher to train them. And with how powerful gangs are in Novigrad, everyone will want to train themselves." If we actually get to open a training center, I can train Carl right here in Novigrad too.
"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.
"Dandelion, Priscilla, good morning. Fancy seeing you two together." Roy looked at them suspiciously. Their body language told Roy these two were back on good terms. Priscilla's pretty kind, huh? She forgave him just like it. It hasn't even been a week.
"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."
The witchers stopped their discussion and exchanged a look. So the gang lords took the blame. Probably so the Eternal Fire can look good in front of the citizens. Not bad, they thought. At least we aren't gonna be called Butchers of Novigrad.
"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.
Roy then remembered something. If history took its intended course, Dandelion would inherit Rosemary and Thyme many years later. He and Priscilla would renovate it and open up their ballroom. And then a tragedy by the name of Carnal Sins struck. But that fanatical katakan hasn't come to Novigrad just yet, and because of my actions, Whoreson Senior died an early death. The gang lords took over that inn, and Dandelion is locked out of it. I think I just destroyed his dream. Or if you look at it another way, I also saved Priscilla.
***
"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.
Serrit sighed. "Fine. Wine is still technically alcohol. I guess we can go with a ballroom." I'm the older sibling here. Just bear with it, 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."
Priscilla was surprised. He's dragging me into his mess again. But she couldn't resist. Priscilla bit her lip and put her hands on her lower belly. There was trepidation and longing in her eyes. "If you give us a chance, we'll prove that this is a profitable endeavor."
"You're only saying that because you two want to open up a ballroom. If we find out that you're lying to us after we let you run the place, the consequences will be dire."
"I would never try to cheat you out of your coins." Dandelion stood up straighter. For once, he was being brave. "And I'm a resident of Novigrad. People know me, and as you can see, I'm just a frail little bard. I wouldn’t be able to escape even if I wanted to."
"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.
Roy thought this was a magical twist of events. What he did to Wiley inadvertently caused Dandelion to lose Rosemary and Thyme, but now these two came up to him and suggested converting this place into a ballroom. I wonder if fate decreed so. Well, he was more than happy to give Dandelion what he wanted. At least he and Priscilla would have a happy ending.
But ballrooms are frankly a new venture. Profit is uncertain. Time to sweeten the deal. "I have a condition." Roy mused. "I don't object to your idea, but you have to at least make a performance about witchers once a month. Poetry, drama, opera, you decide. But at least once every month. I don't need you to praise witchers, but at least tell the people the truth. Tell them what witchers really are. You know what I mean, don't you?"
Even if I lose this investment, the marketing alone would be well worth the coins. Novigrad is the trade center of the north. It affects the whole northern land. This is the best place to test out my theory.
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."
Roy's lips twitched. Can you give that a rest? He shook his head and held Priscilla's hands. Then he patted Dandelion's shoulder. "We can sign the agreement right away."
He suddenly huddled closer to Dandelion and whispered, "Dandelion, you have to stop flirting around. And protect Priscilla. Do not let her get harmed, got it?"
"Huh?" Dandelion was a little confused. Did I break Priscilla's heart before? Nah, not important. The ballroom takes precedence! "As you wish, witcher!" The bard held his chest and bowed.
"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.
***
***
