Several days had passed since Siegfried's last visit, and the buzz around Batman had cooled with time. By "cooled," it meant the people at the top had more or less reached a consensus: if this man stopped showing up, there was a good chance they would never find him again.
Out in the streets, though, Batman instead became a new kind of totem—"the man who symbolized freedom." Children who didn't know any better even called him "Black Banana" with friendly affection. There wasn't much malice in it; it just meant the legend was sinking in deeper. People always prefer to believe what they want to believe.
Dandelion, for instance, sang Batman's praises to the skies, declaring he was a shining beacon of freedom, a model for all mankind. He said he would write a subtly phrased poem to celebrate Batman's great escape—while making a special point of emphasizing how he would dwell on the "fierce clash" between Batman and the beautiful princess, so the audience would not be disappointed.
As for the poet's shameless worship, Angoulême mocked him as nothing more than a walking surge of lust, looking for an excuse to write smut.
She pulled on her leather armor reinforced with iron plates, strapped on her steel sword, and then strengthened protection over the vital spots the boss had specifically pointed out. She glanced at the young man, who was likewise preparing in silence, and spoke gently to comfort him. "Vic, don't mind what people say. We all know it isn't true. We just showed up at the wrong place at the wrong time. People will forget about it soon enough."
Victor tilted his head and shot Angoulême a sidelong look. "If I actually cared about those rumors, I'd have to silence the only witness—namely you. I'm not in a bad mood. I just can't figure out how a planned bit of do-gooding turned into a ridiculous farce. So I'm worried tonight's adventure will go wrong again."
"Boss, how can you say that?" Angoulême protested. "Nobody wanted any of that. Who could've guessed we'd turn a corner and run into Princess Adda? And besides, for tonight—so we can wipe out that 'female vampire'—you made so many bombs. That Shuddering Moon Dust, that deluxe Dancing Star, that wild wasp nest and whatever else." She lifted a hand and kicked a foot to show off her gorget, bracers, and other pieces. "And with all this protective gear, you should have more confidence in yourself."
When the young man still didn't seem to react much, she stepped closer, set both hands on Victor's shoulders, and looked straight into his blue eyes.
"I tease you all the time about plans never surviving reality, but if you didn't make those plans, we might not even live long enough to see reality change.
"I, Angoulême, have followed three hansa leaders. The first isn't worth mentioning—he was hanged on a gallows before long. The second was Uncle Geralt. His swordsmanship was absurdly strong, but he often fell into confusion and needed others to remind him what he was doing. And the third is Victor. Even though I've never lost to him in practice, if it ever came down to a real contest, I feel like I couldn't beat him—because he always knows what to do next. Following him feels steady and safe.
"So… have faith in yourself. I miss Uncle, but you're the best leader I've ever had."
After hearing her out, Victor was silent for a moment. He gently brushed her hands away, then patted her shoulder. "Beating the first two isn't hard. They hardly counted as leaders. But… thanks. Come on. The 'female vampire' will fall to Mr. Corion's meticulous plan!"
…
They reached the Trade Quarter and quickly found the sewer entrance tucked into an alley. Victor closed his eyes to run one last confirmation through his mind.
"Huh! Where did he get the money?" Angoulême suddenly exclaimed in surprise.
Victor opened his eyes. "What?"
"I think I just saw Dandelion go in there with a few people who looked like nobles." Angoulême pointed toward a building that looked expensive and exclusive at a glance.
"Probably someone's treating him. A famous poet like him getting invited around is normal. Ignore it." With that, Victor jumped down into the sewer first.
Angoulême hesitated a few seconds, then followed him in. What she hadn't had time to explain was that she was pretty sure those same nobles had been at Princess Adda's side a few days ago.
…
Through Vizima's sprawling, interconnected sewer tunnels, the retired Batman and Catwoman—
now the Phantom Troupe—
returned once more to the dark entrance that had swallowed more than a dozen assault troopers.
The airflow here was decent, and it wasn't a main channel where household waste ran through. It really was an excellent place to hide away.
They lit a torch. In the wavering firelight, Victor could clearly see Angoulême's face had gone a little pale. She knew he saw it, but she didn't say anything. He didn't ask.
The witcher apprentice pressed a vial into Angoulême's hand first. "This is Cat. It'll drastically dilate your pupils so you can see in low light.
"From the dying screams of those troopers, the female vampire's first target is always the torch. So we drink Cat first. The firelight will become a bit harsh—endure it, and try not to stare into it."
Angoulême said nothing. She took the improved Cat potion in one swallow, then followed it with the three she already knew well: Tawny Owl to bolster stamina, Blizzard to sharpen reflexes, and Thunderbolt to raise strength.
"I don't know how fast she is," Victor said, "but we'll prepare for the worst."
Angoulême remained silent while Victor kept talking through the plan. Each of them was using their own method to dull the edge of fear.
At last, Victor handed over the Vampire Oil. "Coat the crossbow and the sword." Then, from the large extra pack he'd brought, he produced one bear trap after another.
…
With masks on, they advanced carefully, step by step, and kept setting traps at shadowy corners along the way.
Before long they reached a broad, circular chamber. Angoulême suddenly yanked Victor's hand to stop him. As agreed beforehand, she would sense the level of danger as they moved—if it spiked sharply, she would grab him. That meant the female vampire had noticed them.
Victor immediately raised the torch high and angled his gaze toward the floor. He could just make out scattered bloodstains. Then he looked up toward the other side—sure enough, the ceiling was high enough for climbing and lurking. Paired with the troopers' final screams of "Up there!", the spot where they were wiped out was most likely right here.
This wasn't the cramped space where Moon Dust would be at its most devastating, but the distance and room to observe meant they could use other methods.
All at once, the witcher apprentice and his partner drew their blades together. A thick, unnatural killing intent spread through the air.
From the darkness, she slowly appeared.
They finally saw her.
She was tall, with long hair draped over her shoulders, a narrow waist and an enormous ****, her body healthy, strong, and well-proportioned. She was completely naked. In the torchlight, the difference from a human was, at first glance, only that beastlike look in her eyes. Her face even carried a mature, feral beauty. Victor could say with certainty that most men would probably ****.
She watched the two of them with a hint of curiosity. Her food wasn't panicking or roaring. It wasn't trying to run. And it certainly wasn't the usual sort—some fool who mistook the sewers for a stroke of luck and threw himself forward to die.
The female vampire and the Phantom Troupe faced each other across a stretch of space. Then her patience snapped, and she began to change. Starting with her pupils turning blood-red, her pretty face stretched and lengthened, her teeth jutted out, and her healthy wheat-colored skin darkened and shriveled into knotted muscle. In only a few seconds, Victor could once again say with certainty: there would still be some truly extreme people who could ****.
But he couldn't.
Tilting her head, she revealed a predator's smile that made the skin crawl. Under the torchlight, the female vampire's outline wavered and twisted, then gradually turned hazy.
"Now!"
Angoulême hurled the torch with her left hand to draw the creature's attention, and Victor seized the opening to throw his current masterpiece—
the Shuddering Moon Dust and the deluxe Dancing Star!
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