"This was an accident. It was supposed to be a satisfying and simple bandit suppression. I'll tell you the details at dinner time. This will be a great dinner table story." Lann explained.

This old man might be one of the few elders in the world who really cares about him. Although the old man's nagging is a headache for most people, Lan En finds it very useful. Even if he is being coaxed, he still has to respond to the other party.

"However, I have taken your words to heart. I will be more careful next time."

Ens nodded. Regardless of whether the promise was true or not, getting a response made him feel a little relieved.

"Or, you can leave your offspring behind first, and then go on those thrilling adventures."

"Ahem," Lann said hurriedly, "Let's talk about it later. Let's talk about it later."

Lan En walked forward and touched Hei Feng's mane. The smooth touch made him feel better. The old butler stared at Lan En's back with an inexplicable look and sighed softly.

I don’t know what Ens is thinking, but at least Lan’s mind is now full of how to think of a good enough return gift for the little girl.

…

City defense forces, dungeon.

On the table, which was still wet with blood, there were a row of knives, bag belts, and various bottles and jars whose names could not be told. The most eye-catching ones in the middle were two sharp swords with cat-head counterweights installed.

Two sharp swords. One is a steel sword, the other is a silver sword. The steel sword punishes evildoers, the silver sword kills demons.

These were all searched from the demon hunters and are Lann's spoils.

Lan looked at the table for a moment, then reached out and picked up the steel sword. The mirror-like ridge of the sword reflected Lan's profile, and he thought it was a good return gift, enough to match "Black Wind".

But the shape and weight are not right, Ciri can't swing it, so it needs to be modified a little.

Lane couldn't help but laugh as he began to sketch simple designs in his mind.

"She'll probably like it, right?"

Lann has no shortage of a good sword. This steel sword is not one of the magical demon hunter weapons with special enchantments in the game. It is just a sword made of good material. In comparison, it is equivalent to the novice outfit in the game.

If there was anything precious about it, it might be that the materials and craftsmanship were exquisite, but that was all. The blacksmiths in the royal court were also capable of making it. But Lan believed that the story of the "trophy" and the process of obtaining it would make Ciri particularly like this gift.

Compared to this steel sword, the other silver sword and these bottles and jars of potions were not available in the circle that Lann had been exposed to. Lann collected them all carefully, intending to see if they were of any use to him when he had time later.

But now, Lan has more important things to do.

In the cage behind him, the demon hunter Judd was tied to a wooden frame, and the wounds on his body were simply bandaged to prevent him from dying without trial.

An interrogator saw Lann finally count the spoils and turn his gaze to the demon hunter, so he stepped forward carefully and suggested: "My Lord Earl, you don't have to do this dirty work yourself. We have been working here for decades..."

Lann waved his hand, making it clear that no one else was needed here. The inquisitor, who had a good eye, quickly lowered his head and shut up. There were nobles with quirks, too. Not to mention interrogating prisoners in person, he had also seen people capture "prisoners" specifically for interrogation.

Inside the cell, the demon hunter raised his head slightly when he heard footsteps, with an expression that was not unexpected on his face:

"Noble boy, you finally came..."

Lan looked around, pulled over a dirty wooden stool and sat down:

"If I were in a good mood, I might have said something like 'I shouldn't have come' or 'but I came anyway'. But time is precious, and there's a lot I want to know. So I think we should just get started."

"Hehe... it sounds like the affected tone of an aristocrat... more like the dialogue that should appear in a bard's poem.

You locked me up here and didn't let me heal my wounds, and you didn't let the interrogator come to question me. It's obvious that you have some little secrets that you want to be answered, but you don't want others to know... Tell me, what is it?"

Lann smiled slightly: "Just tell me when I ask you?"

Judd laughed wantonly: "Do you believe me?"

Lann nodded and confirmed that it was a battle between masters.

"I heard that the magic potion transformation of demon hunters will cause great pain to the body, and the process of becoming stronger is a torture in itself. In other words, your tolerance for pain is beyond ordinary people, is that true?"

Judd smiled and said, "This isn't something most people would hear. You have pretty big ears."

Even though he was in prison, the captured witcher did not seem to forget to taunt Lann, and did not show any sign of weakness.

Lann asked doubtfully, "You don't seem to be worried about what I'm going to do next."

"Hehehe, I know your interrogation tactics are nothing more than using knives and iron. But you can hardly imagine the pain I have experienced, physical and mental... I had hope, but it is shattered now. And your people crippled my legs and hands, which makes it impossible for my shattered hope to be rekindled."

"Hahaha, the reason why I stayed in this dungeon for so long without committing suicide is that I wanted to see your angry and irritated expression after you, a noble boy, tried every possible means on me but got nothing. Tell me, noble boy, how are you going to get anything out of someone who has nothing!"

A crazy voice echoed in the prison, and Lann couldn't help but lean back a little to avoid the saliva sprayed everywhere by the demon hunter.

Lan smacked his lips. "I've heard that the Cat Faction's demon hunters are full of lunatics. Today I see that their reputation is well-deserved. But..."

Lann suddenly turned around, drew out his sword, and stabbed it forward with force into the wooden frame of the witcher's body. Then he slowly raised the hilt of the sword, allowing the sword to close upwards like a side knife, and the cold blade slowly stuck to the witcher's skin.

"Are you sure you have nothing to lose?"

The demon hunter's expression froze for a moment, and his breathing became heavier.

"You seem to want to be a tough guy who uses the little life you have left to resist the powerful. This is unnecessary. Because I am not that kind of noble, and you are not that kind of tough guy. And as a bandit leader who has killed countless innocent people, you can only make me laugh when you say such things."

Lann only held the handle with two fingers. He walked closer step by step, and the sharp blade rotated and tightened towards the witcher's lower body little by little: "Of course, I must admit that you are rich in life experience. Every witcher who can be released to walk alone is old enough to be my father or even grandfather. You can definitely withstand the general punishment. I have confidence in you - or in the witcher.

But I am also very confident in my knowledge reserves. You can’t imagine what kind of messed up knowledge I have - advanced knowledge."