System of the Beast Slayer [litrpg Adventure]
Copyright© 1999 by CaffeinatedTales
Chapter 283: Hunting the Wild Boar Army
Near noon, with the sun blazing overhead, a group of young students returned to the natural history department building on Oxenfurt Academy Island in twos and threes at Linus Pitt’s summons.
“How did the questioning go?” Roy leaned against the outer wall of the natural history department’s teaching building, glanced over the frightened-looking students, then turned his gaze to his solemn Witcher companions.
Orin picked his teeth with the blackened nail of his thumb, then sighed helplessly. “There are thirty-five undergraduate and master’s students in the natural history department altogether. We questioned them one by one. Regrettably, we found no suspects.”
“A flock of pampered sheep, honest folk, bookworms...” Letho added, rubbing his shining bald head with one hand. “A little scare, and they confessed everything they should, like their relationship with Whistleshaw, and everything they should not, like how old they were when they wet themselves, and who in the faculty they secretly admired. Clean as a gutted fish. We did not even need Axii. I suspect these Oxenfurt students have less courage than Karl...”
As he spoke, Letho ruffled the little boy’s soft hair.
The pampered intellectuals of Oxenfurt’s natural history department had mostly never seen blood since birth. Their nerve might truly be worse than Karl’s, who had lost his family and then lived for some time with Witchers in the wild.
“So Linus Pitt’s other assistant, Ben, is cleared too?”
Letho nodded. “Ben has a few petty thoughts, and he did try to push Whistleshaw aside in small ways, but the bloodshed in that suburban house had nothing to do with him.”
“Then the situation is clear enough...” The young Witcher breathed out and smiled at his companions.
“You found something on your side?”
“Kantila and I got a lead from the vendors at the Oxenfurt Academy market.”
The two repeated what the fishmonger had told them.
The Witchers fell into thought after hearing it, but before they could speak, Linus Pitt suddenly emerged from behind them. “Two little thugs asked about Whistleshaw’s identity?” The gaunt cheeks of the Oxenfurt master’s supervisor tightened at once, then confusion crossed his face. “Why would they pay attention to an honest, poor student?”
“Professor, that is quite obvious.” Flavius lifted his sunglasses, and a sharp gleam flashed from his gray-green eyes. “Those two fellows were not interested in a poor student from a humble background. They were interested in Whistleshaw’s long-term, large-scale purchasing business in the Oxenfurt Academy market. They had their eyes on that trade. They wanted a share of it.”
“I agree with Flavius.” On the other side, Kael picked up the thread and swept his gaze over everyone present. “When I was down south, I dealt with no shortage of local ruffians. They are a crowd of idle, vicious ‘poor men,’ skilled at using every filthy method and every opening to squeeze coin out of merchants. The thing they are most obsessed with is nothing more than glittering crowns. If there is money to be had, they will do any business under the sun.”
“Your student neither hired guards like a great merchant to protect himself, nor possessed an illustrious family background. Is that sort of soft target not the best object for extortion?”
After listening to the analysis, Linus Pitt’s mouth twitched. Behind his thick lenses, his pupils narrowed into slits. Then his body trembled slightly, and he roared, spittle flying, “Bastards. How dare they, how could they, here in Oxenfurt, the center of Northern scholarship, set their crooked minds upon students?”
Local residents had always maintained a basic respect for students from Academy Island. On one hand, they feared the power of Oxenfurt Academy behind them. On the other, no one much wanted to offend a person who might become important in the future.
Few dared lay hands on students.
“If those ruffians can scrape a living in Oxenfurt, they naturally have some measure of judgment.” Orin said, “So they did not choose to act in town. Instead, they raided Whistleshaw’s suburban home ten miles away. Remember, the two bodies found in that house yesterday were covered in signs of torture. That verifies our thinking to a certain degree, the thugs wanted to dig more ‘fat meat’ out of Whistleshaw.”
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