I'm not a Witcher anymore.

Chapter 133 Life, can you please spare me this once?

Clegane coldly watched the fleeing figures.

Then, his gaze fell on Gore, and his expression became serious.

A man of Hawthorne II.

Although they had only been in Novigrad for a few days, he had already heard of the four big gangsters.

Hawthorne II, in particular, was a notorious madman, cruel and ruthless. Those who offended him were usually thrown into the bay to be fed to the fish.

Faced with this mad dog's henchmen, Clegane instinctively placed his hand on the hilt of his sword.

If things really came to a head, they could definitely make the other side suffer. But—he glanced at the terrified old people, women, and children in the camp behind him.

They can't afford to be hurt.

Clegane gripped the hilt of his sword, then loosened his grip, but eventually let go.

“Listen, my friend,” Clegane looked directly into Gore’s eyes, “we’ve come here with old men, women and children, and we don’t want any trouble. We know the rules of Novigrad. If Lord Hawthorne wants protection money, name a fair price, and we’ll pay it all, even if it means emptying our pockets of the last crown. As long as we’re given a way out, no one will have to shed blood.”

Gore glanced at him but said nothing.

He simply stepped aside to make way for the person behind him.

Clegane followed his gaze and froze.

A young man with black hair is walking this way.

The sunlight shone on him, giving his features a faint golden edge.

Clegane would never forget that face. Just days before, it was this young man who had led them out of the muddy wasteland of Velen and escorted them alive across the Pontal River.

"Lord Sieg?"

Crigan's voice was a little hoarse.

"Clegane," Sieg walked up to him, "we meet again."

Krifeng took a deep breath, his eyes slightly warm.

Behind the camp, the women and the elderly gasped in surprise. Some covered their mouths and wept with joy, while others clasped their hands together and prayed silently in the direction of Zig.

Gore stood to the side and said respectfully.

"Your Excellency Zieg, these people will be under your protection from now on. If anyone dares to cause them trouble again, just give the order, and I will personally lead men to teach them a lesson."

Clegane and the others exchanged glances, their eyes filled with shock and disbelief.

Why are Hawthorne II's men so respectful to Lord Zieg?

What on earth is going on?

"Tell me, what happened? Why were those people causing you trouble?"

Crigan's expression darkened.

He opened his mouth, seemingly unsure where to begin.

After a long silence, he slowly spoke, his voice filled with deep weariness and helplessness.

"Lord Sieg, it's a long story."

He sighed.

"We who came from Vijma are refugees, but we are strong, hardworking, and efficient."

"The employers at the docks all wanted us."

He gave a wry smile.

"This was supposed to be a good thing, but the other refugees saw it and were unhappy. They felt that we were taking away their jobs and thought we were making a lot of money, so they came to cause trouble every few days."

Zieg nodded slightly: "But actually?"

Crigan shook his head, his bitterness deepening.

"Actually, we're not having an easy time either. Prices in Novigrad are much higher than in Vizima, and the little money we earn isn't enough to live on. We practically have to split every crown in half to make ends meet."

"The employer kept delaying the payment, saying things like, 'There are refugees everywhere; if you don't do it, plenty of others will.'"

His voice gradually lowered.

"Our team looks like it has nearly a hundred people, but the old are old and the young are young. The only ones who can actually do the work are the thirty-odd men. The women want to go to the city to find some work like washing clothes, but when they inquire, they find out that those jobs have long been monopolized by people with connections. If you don't have connections, don't even think about it."

Dandelion stood to the side, and after listening to Clegane's words, he couldn't help but sigh.

"This is the plight of refugees."

He shook his head, his tone tinged with emotion.

"Those who can work are exploited, while those who can't are looked down upon. The money earned isn't even enough to feed themselves, and a slight mishap can bankrupt them. What's the difference between this life and dancing on a knife's edge?"

Zoltan's expression also looked rather unpleasant.

"Damn it, those unscrupulous businessmen, they're heartless bastards."

"Clegane, I have a suggestion," Sieg said.

Clegane immediately perked up: "Sir, please speak."

"I know a friend in Novigrad who owns some businesses and needs manpower."

"Women and elderly people among you, as long as they are not completely unable to move, can be assigned work. Washing clothes, cooking, cleaning, these tasks always need to be done."

At this point, Zig turned to look at Gore.

"Is it alright to arrange for these dozens of people on Lord Willie's territory?"

Gore hadn't expected that he would still have a say here.

He was taken aback for a moment, then remembered Dudu's instructions before he left, and quickly agreed.

"Of course, it's no problem at all if it's just a few dozen people, and as you said, washing clothes, cooking,..."

Someone has to do the cleaning.

"Furthermore, if they serve Lord Willie, they won't have to live here anymore; they can move into the city."

Crigan's eyes lit up immediately.

"Really?!"

Not only can it provide jobs for women and the elderly, but it can also allow them to live in the city.

Crigan felt like he'd been hit by a pie falling from the sky, his mind was buzzing.

"Of course it's true." Compared to Clegane, Sieg was much calmer. "As for the children in the camp, I will hire some teachers for them so they can learn something."

It would be such a waste to make these children clean the chimneys of the rich, or work as child laborers in factories, as was the case in the Victorian era.

They are at the age where they should be reading and absorbing knowledge.

Such investments will yield the greatest returns in the future.

Clegane was stunned when he heard this.

He opened his mouth, but couldn't speak for a long time.

Being able to live in the city means that the elderly and women will have work to do, and the children can even learn to read.

Such conditions are something that even city dwellers might not be able to enjoy, let alone refugees.

"Lord Sieg————"

Crigan's voice choked with emotion.

He knelt down on the ground.

"We have never seen such a blessing from you in our lives. From this day forward, our lives belong to you."

The men behind him also knelt down, expressing their gratitude in a cacophony of voices.

The women and elderly people in the camp behind them, though they hadn't heard their conversation, also knelt down.

"Praise be to you, kind sir."

"May the goddess Meritelli bless you, and may your purse always be full."

Zig looked at the refugees kneeling on the ground and sighed softly.

He stepped forward and helped Clegane up.

"Get up, all of you. I don't need so many stone statues bowing down."