Chapter 998: 980 pieces of crushed ‘biscuits’

Chapter 998 980. Crush the ‘biscuit’

Just when the little girl let out a shrill and frightened cry, the car owner himself was pinned in the mud and watched helplessly as his daughter was pinned down by a group of deserters and robbers on the road.

“Are you going to take action?”

A calm and hoarse voice appeared from not far away.

Two witchers came here.

Geralt asked Lan En next to him.

The witcher had clearly arrived at the scene of the incident, but his relaxed tone as if he was aloof from the incident made many people present unconsciously stunned.

Lane ignored Geralt's words.

his cloak drew a wavy arc in the air, and the man had already got off the unicorn's back.

He walked toward the messy road in silence.

 He wanted to swing the ax to cut his arm, but before he could put the idea into action, the severe pain from the top of his head made him scream and throw down the ax in his hand regardless, and instead pulled the palm of his head.

A big hand stretched out from under the cloak and grasped the head of the rotten-toothed man.

The bad-toothed man who held the little girl down pulled out an ax from his belt and rushed towards Lan En with a grin.

What the Primaris Space Marines call 'crushing human skulls with the palm of their hands' really means crushing human skulls with just the palm of their hands, a muscle that is not suitable for squeezing or even exerting force. .

It wasn’t until the real power came into contact with the fragile body that the head controlled by the anesthetic powder seemed to regain a little sense.

However, several deserters and robbers on the opposite side had no intention of turning around and running away even if they saw such a person walking toward them with hostility.

The large cloak hung down to his calf, and the cloak that wrapped the whole person did not reveal any emotional fluctuations.

The pupils are abnormally dilated and excited, and the mucous membranes are irritated, causing uncontrollable runny nose and drooling.

Lan En knew it just by looking at it.

—Almost like a biscuit.

When Lan En pressed the opponent's head firmly with one hand, the hem of the cloak lifted up by his movement did not fall in the air.

But Lan En’s strength is no longer on the same level as ordinary people.

“Uh ah ah!”

 And when they thought about it, what would be the effect of pressing on a human skull with fingers that were actually meant for a firm grip?

The eyes, which were so excited under the influence of the drug that they could not focus, suddenly stopped after a black shadow flashed for a moment.

The screams were no different from those of the donkey cart boy he killed just now, or even a little more miserable.

Because they took narcotic powder.

He said nothing, but the hostility was clearly evident.

But the closer he got to Lan En, the smaller and thinner he seemed.

You can’t expect someone who has taken drugs to maintain even the most basic sanity, right?

Apparently, he is also a veteran who has killed many people.

 Lan En's fingers tightened, and Leader Rotten Tooth could clearly feel that the structure of his skull was approaching the limit of endurance.

In the end, the person who was struggling wildly on Lan En's arm suddenly became weak after a dull 'click', leaving only occasional twitching.

“No.” It was Geralt himself, with a dull voice.

"The beginning is pretty much the same. A deserter who is robbing someone wants money, food, and preferably a woman, no matter how old she is. Or not, as long as there is a hole where he can relax."

“There are people like this in every age and in every place. Of course, there are also victims, the farmer and his daughter who were stopped.”

“The accident happened after I killed their leader.”

"The girl's father ran away with the attackers, and the girl was covered in the blood of the leading man. She vomited and was hysterical. When I walked over, she was even more frightened and fainted."

Geralt turned his head and looked at Lan, who seemed to be unmoved and was really just listening to the story with great interest.

“Since then, I have allowed myself to listen more to the voice of reason in my heart and rarely get involved in that kind of thing anymore.”

"Oh?" Lan En heard what Geralt meant, but he didn't care. Instead, he asked with a smile. "Is this the wisdom passed down from Kaer Morhen?"

“Yes.” Geralt said bluntly.

“Vesemir told me over and over again in Kaer Morhen not to get involved with this kind of thing, not to play wandering knight or to uphold the law. Don’t show off your skills, just work for money.”

"But I wasn't even fifty miles away when I got into the fray like a fool. Do you know why? I wanted the girl to weep with joy and kiss the hands of her savior, and her father to fall to his knees in gratitude."

Lan En didn’t react at all, he just spoke calmly.

“Then you are disappointed, the rejection of the witcher and the fear of escaping death overwhelm the gratitude. That’s not what the storybooks and poems say, is it? But it’s more than that.”

“You feel disgusted that you saved someone in an attempt to gain gratitude and honor. This feeling is heightened after the person you rescued screams and flees.”

Geralt nodded, but then Lan En changed the topic.

"But I don't find it disgusting. Maybe it's because we have different ideas, Geralt? I never bother with that. In my eyes, doing good is doing good. It's perfectly reasonable to be grateful and rewarded for it."

"I just want to stop things that I can't stand happening. After I'm done, I don't care whether the father and daughter are grateful or run away."

Geralt looked at the young man next to him, and finally smiled and shook his head.

"Yes, that's the kind of person you are. No one except this kind of 'fool' would immerse themselves in the war."

“Come on, let’s talk straight. Did the girl see your face under the hood, so she didn’t run away screaming?”

“On the one hand,” Lan En said with a smile, “If you were as attractive when you were young as you are now, maybe that girl wouldn’t be scared away by you?”

Geralt shook his head helplessly.

He also knows that he is relatively attractive among witchers, he is calm, handsome, strong, and has a mature and reliable temperament.

 Many women looking for excitement, even sorceresses, are interested in him.

But his charm is different from Lan En's beauty.

That is a face that makes one lose consciousness just by looking at it.

“On the other hand?” Geralt didn’t want to talk about this topic anymore and simply turned around. "The man can't be because of this, right?"

At this point, Lan En's voice, which was still slightly smiling, became a little subtle.

“Yes. It’s not because of this.”

“What?” Geralt also heard that something was wrong.

“The father recognized my identity as soon as he got up from the ground and said, ‘The hero has come to save us.’”

“Tsk tsk tsk.”

Lan En's hood came from under his hood and he squeaked with interest.

And Geralt also raised his eyebrows, realizing something was wrong.