The following afternoon, the troupe member who had been dying to tell her captain about the bizarre encounter from the previous night finally saw the young man return to the rear courtyard of Fergus's smithy, where Victor's Alchemy Workshop was located.
But compared with the Batman incident, Angoulême naturally had something she cared about much more to ask first.
...
Thus came her astonished shout.
"What!? You didn't do it?"
"We didn't."
The answer was perfectly calm.
"Impossible! How could you two not have gotten any exercise?"
"Isn't it obvious? If she didn't make a move on me, then I couldn't betray her trust!"
"So you two really stayed in the room all night, just drinking, eating, and talking about poetry?"
"That's exactly what happened. Just like when I first met Dandelion, we spent the entire night discussing literature, analyzing the beauty of meter and the shortsightedness of kings being mocked through satire. It was actually pretty enjoyable."
"Pfft! Pffthahahaha! Hahahahahaha!"
Sprawled across her personal lazybones recliner, the girl laughed so hard she repeatedly pounded the back of the chair, nearly running out of breath.
Victor's voice turned cold.
"Listen, there's more between men and women than that sort of thing. Pure friendship exists too. Angoulême, your mind needs refinement. Rise above such vulgar interests and stop staring exclusively into life's sordid little corners!"
"Really? I don't believe you! I bet you just didn't know how to make a move!"
Finding the whole thing far too hilarious, the delighted troupe member recklessly continued digging her own grave.
"Very well, my dear apprentice. Before coming back, I stopped by a bookstore and prepared an entire set of study materials for you. I believe you need a deeper understanding of the political origins and relationships of the Northern Kingdoms! This precious knowledge will help you become a better witcher!"
The captain's announcement instantly wiped the smile from Angoulême's face.
This punishment was simply too horrifying.
She opened her mouth, not knowing how to beg for mercy, when she suddenly remembered what had happened the previous night.
"Captain, hold on! There's something I need to tell you. I ran into Batman on my way back last night!"
Amused by Angoulême's desperate instinct for survival and assuming she was spouting nonsense, Victor raised an eyebrow.
"Really? Just Batman? You should know that Batman without Catwoman is incomplete!"
"Captain, how did you know!? I really did meet Catwoman too!"
The girl looked utterly astonished.
Reading the seriousness in her reaction, Victor stopped stirring the cauldron.
"You actually saw Batman? What did he look like?"
As a young man who had grown up in the information age, Victor had naturally seen plenty of shows involving Batman impostors and similar plots. Still, he had never expected idle copycats to appear even in a medieval world.
That made this a rather interesting subject.
"Hmm... He's a little bigger than you, but someone who didn't know you well would have a hard time telling the difference. His costume isn't made as a single piece like ours, but it's still very well crafted. The overall accuracy is incredibly high. And I'm guessing he really worships you, because he knows every line you've ever said by heart!
"'You have failed this city!' Gods, you should've heard the way he said it... I got goosebumps! There was so much genuine emotion behind those words. Completely different from you, where anyone can immediately tell you're just trying to look cool while delivering a dramatic line!"
Victor drew in a deep breath and turned his head toward the pitch-black soundproofed wall.
He began seriously reflecting on exactly where his teaching philosophy had gone wrong.
Why did it feel like his troupe member's respect for her captain was plummeting by the day?
"So on your way home yesterday, you ran into bootleg versions of Batman and Catwoman?"
"Right! First I ran into three of Whoreson Junior's lackeys who wanted to force themselves on me."
After saying that, Angoulême noticed Victor's expression darken. He had always found it difficult to tolerate those who harmed women or bullied the weak.
"I was planning to lure those three creeps into an alley and deal with them, but then Batman appeared above us and Catwoman blocked the alley entrance..."
Angoulême spent a little time recounting the previous night's encounter in as much detail as possible, including her judgment regarding Batman's true identity, as well as the way the pair had completely disregarded her and focused solely on carrying out justice.
Around the latter half of her story, Yoana happened to enter from the outer room and calmly added, "I've heard about them. They started appearing a few months ago. At first, I thought you had secretly come back.
"But once I saw the thugs they'd beaten, I knew that was impossible. Seriously, after getting beaten like that, they'd probably have been better off dead."
"Exactly! Exactly! That's what I thought too!"
Angoulême nodded vigorously in agreement.
Rubbing his chin with his left hand, a bold idea flashed through Victor's mind, accompanied by an absurd suspicion regarding this Batman's identity.
And that suspicion was all but confirmed when he saw the leaflet the girl handed him.
...
Sermon from Concerned Citizens
Good people, remember this. Anyone who seeks to stand in the path of the Eternal Fire shall inevitably be consumed by its flames. The Fire does not wait, and it never ceases.
All sinners shall burn in the Eternal Fire, whether beggar or prince, human or nonhuman, mighty or weak. Those who violate its commandments, refuse the guidance of the Church, or worship false gods shall alike be reduced to ashes within its flames.
Therefore, live within the truth of the Eternal Fire and heed the clergy, for they are your shepherds.
Your friendly neighborhood Batman & Catwoman
...
An urgent bulletin immediately flashed through Victor's memories of his previous life.
This extremely convincing Batman impersonator was most likely a higher vampire.
And higher vampires...
In terms of how troublesome they were to deal with, they could be even worse than dragons.
Not even a witcher medallion could identify them. They could effortlessly conceal themselves among ordinary people, while their apex-predator speed and strength allowed them to wipe out a small military force in very little time.
Fortunately, they could be reasoned with.
Highly socialized higher vampires were almost indistinguishable from humans, and the one Angoulême had encountered happened to be a devout follower thoroughly brainwashed by the Eternal Fire.
Unlike what Victor remembered from his previous life, however, this time the vampire had apparently drawn inspiration from a certain costumed weirdo and adopted an entirely new method for carrying out justice.
He had even found himself his very own Catwoman partner.
Damn it, the bastard was practically winning at life.
With Victor's foreknowledge, the only reason he could think of for the two of them to come into conflict was the possibility that this man might hurt Priscilla, believing her to be a symbol of the city's moral decay.
Yet if the Batman Angoulême described really was that man, then his behavior already seemed somewhat different from what Victor remembered.
This was someone who needed to be observed carefully and approached cautiously. He was absolutely not the sort of person one could afford to underestimate.
If Victor remembered correctly, the place where he worked was somewhere...
Realizing he had been ignoring Yoana, Victor looked over at her.
"Sorry. I was worrying about something else just now. What did you come in for?"
The female smith nodded and took out an invitation along with a guest pass.
"News of your return travels fast. Mr. Sigi Reuven just had these delivered. He's inviting you to visit the bathhouse late tonight.
"The King of Beggars also sent someone with a message. He says that when you have time, you should go to Putrid Grove and have a talk with him. As for your agreement to spar with the Zerrikanians, I don't think I need to remind you about that."
Taking the guest pass, the familiar name brought familiar memories flooding back. Victor blinked.
"Ah... remember Boslaer? That white-haired elf with the ponytail, old Whoreson's chief bodyguard. Didn't he die alongside Mr. Alonso?"
Yoana shook her head.
"No. When Cyprian killed his father, Boslaer happened to be away. Now he's still serving as Junior's right-hand man. I occasionally run into him when we're picking up shipments at the docks, and he still looks after us quite a bit."
The young man whistled.
The female smith's answer finally resolved something that had been bothering him.
When he first heard about Whoreson Senior's death, Victor had found it strange. Given how shrewd Mr. Alonso was, there was no reason Junior should have been able to assassinate him successfully.
But once Boslaer was added as the missing piece of the puzzle, everything became perfectly reasonable.
His favorite son and his most trusted subordinate had joined forces against him.
How could Whoreson Senior possibly have survived?
Shaking his head with a bitter smile at human nature, Victor lightly kicked Angoulême.
"Go buy a few pounds of beef. I'm cooking beef bourguignon myself tonight! We'll celebrate the four of us finally being together again."
Realizing she had escaped disaster, the girl cheerfully grabbed Yoana and hurried away.
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