The new title Geralt used intentionally, his voice still low, but the timbre was more relaxed than usual.
"Congratulations. You finally got what you wanted."
Karl heard the rare hint of teasing in Geralt's words and couldn't help but laugh, a mix of emotions welling up inside.
He looked at Geralt and said sincerely: "Thank you! Lambert. Without your help, things wouldn't have gone so smoothly."
He meant the battle against the Striga; Geralt's calmness and professionalism had been crucial in the critical situation.
At that moment, a barely perceptible flicker of awkwardness crossed Geralt's eyes, and he said quietly: "Actually... my real name is Geralt."
Hearing this, Karl showed a slight, appropriate amount of surprise, as if hearing the name for the first time.
Karl looked at the sky and smiled, suggesting: "After all this hard work, there's finally a result."
"How about finding a place to relax and have a drink? Consider it a celebration."
Geralt almost immediately nodded, as if he had been waiting for Karl's words.
He pointed a finger towards the Vizima commercial district, a faint glint appearing in his cat-like eyes: "I passed through the commercial district and saw an inn called the House of the Night. I heard it has a good reputation among the nobles and dignitaries."
He paused, a hint of a tacit understanding between men in his voice.
"I hear the waitresses inside... are very beautiful. Maybe it's worth experiencing."
"The House of the Night?" Karl's heart suddenly tightened; though his face remained calm, alarm bells instantly went off in his mind.
He wasn't ignorant of this name. It wasn't an ordinary drinking establishment at all, but one of the most dangerous places in Vizima's shadows.
Some of the waitresses inside were bruxae, and their strength was probably not much weaker than Princess Adda before her curse was lifted.
And the owner of the House of the Night was the legendary Night Queen, a true higher vampire.
But he was only a little wary; the Night Queen wasn't considered strong among higher vampires—Geralt himself could kill her.
His knowledge of higher vampires came from fragmented memories of past games and scattered speculation.
It seemed every higher vampire was unique, possessing strange abilities.
But what they all had in common was extremely high physical attributes, long lifespans, supernatural abilities or spells,
and what could be called an insane self-healing ability, as well as resurrection after death.
He remembered that many years later in Toussaint, there was a higher vampire named Detlaff who could instantly kill a Geralt who had drunk alchemical potions.
If another powerful vampire, Regis, hadn't stopped him, Geralt would have had his heart and lungs torn out.
Perhaps the portrayal in the game was only the tip of the iceberg; higher vampires in reality might be even more terrifying.
"Geralt, this guy... he sure has nerve wanting to go to a place like that..." Karl was secretly amazed, thinking quickly.
But he quickly calmed down. The House of the Night had existed in Vizima for a long time.
There were few rumors in the city about residents disappearing inexplicably or being drained of blood, suggesting the Night Queen was indeed keeping her subordinates in check.
The bruxae probably obtained blood through charms, making guests "voluntarily" donate a small amount of blood, rather than through wild hunting.
This relatively orderly form of coexistence was likely the reason they could establish themselves in this human city.
What's more, he remembered the teacher he had just met—Hen. Hen's spiritual power was extremely strong.
He could pick up on conversations between him and Triss from the outskirts of the city; he couldn't possibly be unaware of the details of the House of the Night.
Yet Hen hadn't warned him or taken any action.
This could only mean that, in Hen's view, the House of the Night currently posed no threat, and their peaceful coexistence had tacit approval.
Thinking this, Karl felt a little relieved—the risk was low and manageable.
It was also an opportunity to observe the vampire race and learn about the other side of the city.
He looked at Geralt and saw that although he was intent on going, his eyes remained calm and alert; he was clearly not going unprepared.
"Alright, it sounds like an interesting place. Let's go have a look." Karl nodded, smiling with interest.
......
They agreed to meet later and went back to their respective places to settle their rewards.
After all, Geralt's 800 Orens were no small sum, let alone Karl's 4,000 Orens—it obviously wasn't wise to take that into an inn.
Geralt returned to his modest lodgings, while Karl went to Triss's residence in the commercial district.
Triss was tidying up her alchemy table when she saw Karl return, especially with the heavy chest tucked under his arm.
A curious smile appeared on her face: "It seems our hero has returned loaded with treasure?"
Karl put the chest on the table, opened the lid, and golden light suddenly burst forth.
He first handed the precious legitimization document to Triss, then pointed to the gold coins: "Foltest's promises, his identity, and this."
Triss carefully read the document, her green eyes shining with genuine joy and pride.
She stepped forward and hugged Karl: "That's wonderful, Karl. I'm so happy for you!"
When she learned the specific reward was as high as 4,000 Orens, she couldn't help but be stunned and joked: "Oh my, Karl, your little treasury is now richer than mine."
"Just think, when you first came to Vizima, you had to stay in a small inn..."
Karl smiled and pushed the chest towards her: "It's still just papers. Please keep them for me for now; I'll take them when I need them."
"Don't worry. What are your next plans?" Triss readily agreed, then asked with concern.
"I made plans with Geralt to go out for a drink to celebrate. I might not be back too early."
"Hmm... Lambert is Geralt, to be precise. His real name is Geralt."
When Triss heard this, a look of understanding flickered in her eyes, and she nodded knowingly.
But then she approached Karl, her red lips exhaled near his ear like orchids, and whispered in an ambiguous tone: "Celebrating is fine... but don't stay out too late."
"Don't forget, between us... our private celebration hasn't started yet."
Her fingertips gently traced across Karl's chest, the meaning obvious.
Karl's heart burned, and he squeezed her hand: "I remember. I won't forget."
......
After a short rest, Karl and Geralt met at the entrance to the commercial district.
It was still daytime, not the busiest time for the inn.
They followed the directions they had asked about and soon found the inn called the House of the Night.
From the outside, it was unassuming: dark wooden doors and a sign with a pattern of a moon and a goblet, creating a mysterious and elegant atmosphere.
When they pushed the door open, they were met with a mix of expensive perfume, alcohol, and some indescribable, faint sweet scent.
Their arrival immediately drew the attention of the patrons.