"Sir, look at this book. This is a treasure book that our family has treasured for generations."

In front of a camp surrounded by wooden walls, an old man in rags asked with his eyes down at the man in front of him.

He was holding a book respectfully with both hands.

The man took it, frowned and pretended to look around, and the horizontal flesh on his face twisted into a ball.

The book is half missing, and it is covered with dust and oil stains. A piece of it is sunken in the middle of the cover, which seems to be a mark on the base.

He is illiterate and can't understand any of the big words on the cover, but it's really not easy to hold this big book in your hand.

After weighing the weight, he shouted to someone next to him:

"Joey, come with two silver pennies!"

"Sir, you see this book is so thick..."

"Get out! Next."

The old man wanted to say something, but after looking at the man in front of him, the short sword that was rusty but still emitting cold light, he could only leave with his back hunched away.

The man threw the books aside, and there were already many dilapidated books piled up there.

There was still a long line in front of the camp.

"Oh, boss..." The thin man named Joey got on.

"Go to you, you dare to ask me, boss, and I will slash you with a sword..." the man roared, and his chin strangled a dilapidated tower behind the camp: "Boss is there."

The thin man's eyes slid around: "...Fergus, what do you think our boss wants to do? How much is this junk worth so much?"

"Can you figure out what the boss is doing? Get out of the way! Do your own thing! I'll peel you off if I'm wrong with a copper coin."

Seeing Joey leave in disappointment, Fergus took another book handed over by a villager.

Although he said that, he was also muttering in his heart.

Two weeks ago, he was a deserter, and he was involved in a business of fighting against the family with several companions.

Then I met a young black-haired man with a foreign face.

He could no longer remember what happened at that time, but he only remembered that he was spitting blood and laying on the ground with his back on the sky, and the other party sprinkled a handful of gold coins on his face.

Then he became his boss.

He followed him to "attack" several groups of robbers and deserters, killing the bloody ones, leaving behind a fairly honest one.

What’s interesting is that my boss didn’t speak common words at first, but he could only communicate with him with some simple gestures.

Later, the boss suddenly started to speak. Although his accent was quite heavy, he could barely understand it.

The boss likes to ask this and that with a strong accent, what era is this? Where is this? What big things have happened recently.

But he was a deserter and had been in the wilderness for a while, but he didn't know what happened to those big shots.

The boss didn't ask, but then something strange happened. The boss took them to occupy the abandoned fortress, and then asked them to start collecting books everywhere.

And it’s not robbing, it’s buying by weight!

One oren buys one pound! More expensive than fucking buttery white bread!

And the boss always has endless gold and silver coins.

Later this matter spread, and several trucks of broken books and paper could be packed every day.

Of course, if the smell is too great, it will naturally attract flies.

Once, two bastards in the village next to him sneaked into the tower while they were unprepared, and then...

Then there was nothing.

No one has seen them again.

Once when he was going to deliver a book, the boss stopped him with a smile and said he was short of money and told him, but he had to do his job well.

He saw the boss take out a piece of gold, then "tear" off one from it with his fingers, melt it in his palm, and slowly turn into the appearance of Jin'oren.

He didn't dare to ask for it. He fell down when he ran out of the door in a panic, and his body was covered in black and gray.

Thinking of this, Fergus made a clever move.

Others don’t know, but he has been a soldier and knows that the fuck is burning the remaining ashes!

He had already had some guesses in his mind that his boss must be a "warlock".

Although those warlocks seem young on the surface, they are actually their own grandparents.

During the war between the north and the south some time ago, Redania persecuted non-human residents, and many warlocks fled the palace and ran to the people.

Maybe my boss is one of them.

"Hold it, get out." Fergus threw out a silver coin and sent away the villagers in front of him.

He threw the book aside and stuffed four silver coins into his arms.

‘Stop thinking, just make money.’

———————————————

In the broken tower, Zach was reading something seriously at his desk.

Bang bang bang

The door opened automatically with a creaking sound.

A subordinate entered the room with a pile of books in his arms, carefully put down his things and left in panic.

Zach looked at the pile of ragged books, the top one was half missing.

"Eternal Fire - Sword into the Witch"

He shook his head and continued to read the book in his hand.

Chronicles of Nifgaard

"His nickname is steel blood. People say that the blood of King Modanko is flowing with melted iron. This is naturally an exaggeration, but Modanko did have his life in his military service. His greatest achievement was to conquer Etolia..."

Zach threw the book aside and grabbed his hair. He was usually not indifferent to his emotions.

He has been in this world for two weeks, but he is still in shock.

Everything here is telling him:

This is the world of "The Hunter"!

A fantasy that appeared only in games, novels and movies in his previous life!

Now it is truly in front of him.

In the past few days, he gathered a group of deserters and refugees and began to collect books frantically, trying to find loopholes in this world.

But there are no loopholes! Everything about it is self-consistent.

In his previous life, whether it was a game or a movie, the people in "The Warlock" spoke a language from his previous life - English.

But here, people are speaking several mature and complete strange languages.

For example, northerners talk about a inflection language composed of forty letters, also known as [Common Language].

There is a rich and colorful history and culture here.

For example, the "Chronicle of Niphgad" I just read, which records the history of conquest and expansion of the Southern Empire seventy years ago.

In Zach's impression, the original author of "The Demon Hunter" only compiled that history until twenty-five years ago!

He can also find a comprehensive and detailed world map, and many of the areas above are not planned by the original author.

This is a real world with details and breadth far exceeding the sum of all the works of "The Warlock" in previous lives.

In comparison, the "Witch Hunter" in his previous life was like a stage performance in the real world in front of him.

Zach began to doubt himself and everything around him.

Didn’t I die in my previous life, but fell into a hallucination for decades in a coma?

Or is it true that in the world of the wizards, the memories of those twenty years in the previous life are Xiaomeng?

Just as he was thinking about it, the door behind him was pushed open with a slam.

A man ran in panting.

"Fergus, what's wrong? He was in a panic."

"Boss, we found it! Ahem..."

Zach stared at him coldly, and frightened him so much that he patted his chest and hurriedly picked up his anger:

"We found out the witch hunter you have been asking us for, the nickname White Wolf."

"The news came back from Toustente so soon?"
Chapter completed!