"How about it, Ciri? Don't you want to learn to cook, whip up some new dishes for the Kaer Morhen crew?" Su Ming fanned the flames of temptation, trying to sway her.
Ciri was tempted. Everyone had been so good to her, yet she brought them only threats and trouble. Making them happy with new food sounded nice.
"Hm…"
"Your powers make it easy. Study there by day, back to Geralt by night. I'll handle the Wild Hunt," Su Ming said, scanning for targets.
"Geralt?" Ciri looked to the White Wolf, wanting to go but needing his take.
Geralt stared ahead, steady on Roach. "You've made your own choices for a while. Same now. But if you go, Yennefer and the others need to vet Slade first. It sounds too good to be true."
"If I could bring you, I would. But it's tricky," Su Ming said, spreading his hands innocently. "Alright, let's find a big monster. I'll show you how a rifle works."
No luck—big game like griffins didn't show. Using adamantine bullets on ghouls? Wasteful. Ciri took to guns fast, burning through his pistol ammo.
She had talent, but her gunfire scared off prey, so Su Ming gave her a suppressor.
To hook her, he demoed grenades—smaller than alchemical bombs but stronger.
To show off his armor, he stood in a ghoul pack, letting them claw and bite for three minutes, unscathed.
As he put it, this was basic. Ciri could learn more, get better gear.
Even Kaer Morhen could benefit.
Now Ciri was starry-eyed for his world, urging Geralt to hurry.
But Geralt was Geralt—slaying monsters, earning coin, and hitting brothels to bathe and unwind when filthy.
He invited Su Ming, who was fine with a bath but passed on the extras. Village prostitutes, looks aside, lacked toothpaste. Hygiene was a dealbreaker.
They neared Oxenfurt, close to Novigrad.
"Look at those smokestacks. Novigrad's close," Geralt said, pointing to distant black plumes.
Novigrad's chimneys might seem like forges to outsiders, but they marked pleasure houses.
The city had 13 bathhouses and 35 inns—or rather, brothels with tubs. A bustling city, plenty of ways to spend coin.
"Finally," Jane said, smiling, relieved.
"One last problem before the bruxa," Geralt said, leading them into Oxenfurt.
He strode to a red-roofed house, knocking hard.
A middle-aged woman answered.
"Mayor Tagalyn, as promised, I brought him," Geralt said.
"Hm?" The woman scanned the group, not seeing what she expected.
Geralt grabbed Jane's arm.
Jane's face froze in shock. "Geralt? What's this?"
Geralt held her tight, drawing his silver sword. "Think two witchers wouldn't spot a doppler? Change back, or I'll bleed you."
The dark-haired "Jane," or rather the monster posing as her, knew it was caught. It morphed into a drowner's slimy form, slipping Geralt's grip, lunging at Ciri.
Geralt swiped its arm with silver, disrupting its shapeshifting.
From a beautiful woman to a drowner, it reverted to its true form: a gaunt, haggard, long-haired man.
Ciri blinked away, reappearing by Su Ming, watching Geralt seize the doppler again.
"A cross-dressing mastermind. No wonder the smell was off," Su Ming said, removing his helmet, stroking his beard.
"You tell people by smell? And what's a cross-dressing mastermind?" Ciri was used to Slade's weird terms.
Su Ming shrugged. "Everyone smells unique. Monsters smell the same—they don't live, they just exist. That's the answer. As for cross-dressing mastermind? If Geralt wore a skirt, he'd be one."
Ciri snorted, picturing bearded Geralt in Yennefer's dress, bursting into laughter.
Geralt was having a serious talk nearby.
"Tagalyn, here's the man who killed your daughter and countless travelers," he said.
"It's him? The innkeeper murdering passersby?" The mayor rang a bell, summoning vengeful villagers. Many had lost kin to this doppler.
Geralt shoved the doppler forward. Pitchfork-wielding villagers surrounded him.
"As promised, I brought him alive for justice. Use Novigrad's laws or your customs."
"Pfft!" Ciri's laugh echoed.
Geralt faltered, his gravitas ruined. Ciri had laughed more these days than ever. She seemed genuinely happy.
Maybe school was right for her.
He sheathed his sword, touching his scar. "I won't stay for the trial. My payment?"
The mayor handed over a sack—1,000 orens, crowdfunded by victims' families.
Tracking a killer across the continent with no leads? Only the White Wolf could do it.
Geralt took the coin, mounted up, and handed the spare white horse to Su Ming. The trio left for Novigrad.
"Geralt? Ciri? Slade? Aren't we friends?" the doppler shouted.
Geralt didn't look back.
Villagers and outsiders swarmed the doppler.
"Monster, we've waited for you. This is Amos, a blacksmith; Yanu, a soldier; Leo, Sterling's cousin…" the mayor said, signaling to bind the doppler.
"You killed our families, husbands, wives, children—dozens. Today, we deliver justice. Prepare for punishment."
Bald brutes seized the powerless doppler, dragging him into the village hall as the crowd followed. The heavy wooden doors slammed shut.
"Without Jane, the road feels faster," Ciri said, riding with a girlish grin, more relaxed. "Hard to believe she—or he—was such a psycho. Most dopplers are decent."
"Doesn't mean they can't do evil," Geralt said, leading on Roach, eyeing a smoking chimney ahead. "Or escape punishment."
Su Ming rode beside Ciri, happy to score a horse. "Looks like you're planning a bath?"
"After your talk, I feel like I stink of murderer," Ciri said, wrinkling her nose.
Geralt agreed, recalling a skilled technician, Melissa. "City outskirts have quieter bathhouses, cleaner water."
But inside the tavern-inn-bathhouse-brothel combo, it was packed.
"Welcome! Two witchers and a mighty knight in my bathhouse—what an honor!" The goateed owner beamed, greeting them in a pink-lit hall thick with ambiguity.
It looked like a regular bar, with men cozying up to village-like barmaids, drinking.
The air reeked of bathhouse damp, perfume, liquor, and vomit.
Su Ming rolled his neck. Behind him, burly men with crossed arms leaned against the walls, eyeing the trio—likely bouncers.
"Private room and Melissa. These two just need the baths," Geralt said, tossing orens to the owner.
The old man shouted upstairs. A beauty in a silk gown, slit nearly to her navel, whisked Geralt away.
"He brings his daughter along and doesn't hide visiting prostitutes?" Su Ming asked Ciri, who was heading to the women's baths.
"That's witcher life. You could die anytime—poisoned, eaten by monsters, killed by the Wild Hunt. Might as well enjoy," Ciri said.
"I heard Geralt's slept with succubi, vampires, even water nymphs. You seen that?"
"Sometimes folks can't pay, so they offer a young maiden. If that's not an option, he finds a way with monsters. No big deal," Ciri said, shrugging as she walked off.
Su Ming shook his head, heading to the men's baths. Monsters not for eating but for sleeping with? This world wasn't exactly family-friendly.