The Freak Show Foreman

The place was already shrouded in an ominous atmosphere. Each village set up defenses, recruiting soldiers to guard against monster incursions.

"Oh, you must be the legendary heroes. Welcome."

"Yes, the rumors of monsters appearing are true."

"The monsters... are coming out of our lord’s mansion. The mansion has already been occupied by monsters. Our lord might..."

Vergsong Mansion’s owner, Anais Vergsong, was one of the unfortunate victims entangled with Wonderstein, and in the context of TT3, if you visited her, you could encounter the mansion’s residents who had turned into monsters and face her as a boss.

"Ahh, I’ve been deceived. I brought that demon into the mansion! He said he would cure Lady Anais’ illness..."

A woman lamented, shedding tears. Examining the journals left behind in the mansion, it became evident that Anais Vergsong was a patron of the Monster Circus, and in exchange for curing her illness, Wonderstein had received sponsorship. However, there were always traps in deals with demons. Wonderstein had treated her illness but planted the seed of a monster inside her.

It had burst forth at the time of TT3.

Of course, this was a story that unfolded years later.

For now, Anais was still afflicted by her illness, and I was on my way to secure her sponsorship.

I hadn’t done anything to her yet.

"Please follow me."

The guide who led us was the mansion’s butler, a person who had served the Vergsong family for a long time.

I knew him.

He had also appeared in the game, albeit in the form of a ghost.

"It’s all because of me! I brought that demon into the mansion! Promising to cure Lady Anais’ illness..."

He cursed himself in front of his master, begging to be allowed to bring peace by killing the now-monstrous Anais.

It was quite eerie for me to see him alive and well from Wonderstein’s perspective.

The carriage to the mansion was quiet. Ella, besides official business, maintained her attitude of not interacting with me.

Ella.

The assistant ringmaster of the Monster Circus.

I knew nothing about her. She was a character who hadn’t appeared in TTT at all. I examined her appearance closely, wondering if she had appeared under a different name.

Short, black hair. Was she around 16 years old? She hadn’t turned 17 yet. In Earth terms, she would be a sophomore in high school. She had a cute and youthful appearance that made her seem younger than her actual age. She wore a red military uniform with golden shoulder pads on top of a white blouse.

A black belt was tied like a ribbon around her neck. Below, she wore a black skirt with white knee-high socks and brown shoes.

"What are you looking at?" Ella grumbled, glaring at me. Her attitude was far from friendly.

I wondered what had transpired between us. Considering the "backstories" of the other members like the vampire, the spider woman, the skeletal jester, the mummy-wrapped man, and the twins, it was clear that Ella had not experienced anything pleasant with Wonderstein from the start.

I tapped the silver ornament attached to the end of my staff.

No matter how much I thought about it, nothing came to mind regarding Ella.

I decided to observe her a little longer.

For now, she wasn’t the most important thing.

Sub Quest - Patron

This circus troupe needs sponsorship.

Conditions:

Obtain sponsorship from Anais Vergsong.

Reward upon success:

[Debulroots x5]

No penalty upon failure.

This is a sub-quest.

Do I have a choice in this?

But if it’s a prequel, don’t I have to follow it exactly as it happened in the main story? Do I have to plant the monster seed inside Anais’s body just like in the original story?

While pondering this for a moment, I shook my head.

In TT1 and TT2, there were choices in sub-quests too. Whether to help certain characters or not, whether to kill or save them. Depending on the player’s choices, parts of the ending would change. In the sequels, the fates of the supporting characters who appeared in the previous games were sometimes hinted at.

These choices generally stayed consistent, regardless of what the player decided. In other words, while you could enjoy changing the ending based on your choices, the "main story" was already set.

Conversely, it also meant that it didn’t matter what choice I made here. Regardless of whether I cure Anais’s illness, secure her sponsorship, or not, the world would continue on its course.

I didn’t need to act exactly like I had seen in TTT. Whether to dismantle the circus troupe and go hunting in the mountains or not, the system only demanded that I "survive" until the starting point of TT1.

Still, I had no intention of running away immediately. Following the quest would be overwhelmingly advantageous for utilizing the information from the original game, not to mention the potential rewards.

While thinking along these lines, the carriage was almost at the mansion.

Anais Vergsong.

The illegitimate daughter of Geralt Vergsong, the lord of Geralt’s holdings. Two years ago, upon Geralt’s death, she inherited his title and entire estate. Along with the title came a small territory in southern Charlotia and a modest mansion, but she also received a substantial inheritance.

Geralt was the owner of the Grand Assembly. He had made an immense fortune through pioneering ventures in various fields. He was such a titan in the business world that even the Vegas Bank had assigned a dedicated banker to this rural estate.

The inheritance process involving what Geralt left behind was so complex that dozens of lawyers and accountants were involved.

However, no matter how much money was left to her, it couldn’t make Anais’s life comfortable. She suffered from an incurable illness.

Shh, shh.

A constant sound like wind blowing filled the room. In one corner of the room, there was a contraption about the size of a calf. The machine continually pumped air into her back through sharp metal tubes.

She wore a mask covering her mouth and nose, through which high-pressure oxygen was injected.

It was an artificial respirator packed with the latest magical engineering technology. She had worn it since the age of four. The only times she could take off the mask were for a few minutes to wash herself. Otherwise, she had to wear it at all times.

Eating was almost impossible.

Could she even drink water for a short while?

Nutrient purifications were injected through a different tube inserted into her back. These costly elixirs were supplied by Castya’s Alchemy Guild.

Her food expenses were about the same as eating a few mushrooms for each meal.

Shh, shh.

It was annoying, especially today.

Anais put down the documents she had been reviewing on the table. In addition to the documents, thick stacks of paper were piled on top of each other.

Just looking at it made her tired.

She pressed her forehead with her fist.

The estate her father had left was enormous, but maintaining it required a considerable amount of diligence and foresight. Dealing with the daily influx of documents to the mansion and processing them over and over again...

It was physically exhausting.

If Anais had been a typical noble’s daughter, she would have hired a professional manager to handle the estate’s affairs and enjoyed a luxurious life with the income that flowed in month after month. However, she had grown up watching her father’s work from a young age. By the time she became proficient in penmanship, she even helped handle her father’s work.

She could have comfortably lived off the income, even if it wasn’t hereditary. She could have enjoyed a life of luxury with hundreds of millions.

But she never expected any of this. What was the point of spending hundreds of millions of dollars to live in a magnificent mansion and be treated like a king when she couldn’t even go outside freely or enjoy delicious food? If she could just throw away this oppressive respirator and breathe freely, Anais would have gladly abandoned all her fame and success.

Her curse was that she couldn’t breathe for even a moment without the assistance of a cumbersome machine weighing several tens of kilograms. The reason she invested heavily in medical and magical engineering developments was right here. If she could either cure the disease or make the respiratory support device more comfortable...

If only she could do that, she could leave this stuffy mansion behind and travel freely to see the world with her own eyes...

Shh, shh.

Tap, tap.

A servant knocked on the door.

"Miss, a guest has arrived."

Anais guessed who it might be. The butler had mentioned bringing a wandering magician today. Perhaps he knew something about her illness. Despite the butler’s unwavering dedication, she had no expectations.

Such individuals had frequently visited the mansion ever since her father was alive. Most of them were scammers who thought they could squeeze a few pennies out of her father. They pretended to be great wizards with little tricks and illusions that fooled no one.

Even after she had expressed her annoyance multiple times, the butler never gave up hope. Every time he went outside, he brought back miracle-working magicians who sold panaceas or lifted the lazy beggar’s curse, it was all part of their cunning schemes.

"The guest brought by the butler?"

"Oh, no. Master hasn’t arrived yet. Pierre has come to visit."

"Uncle?"

"Yes. He’s waiting in the drawing room."

Anais brightened up.

Pierre was one of the co-founders of the Grand Assembly and Geralt’s younger brother. Unlike the stoic and conservative Geralt, he was a man who loved adventure and challenges. Anais had always referred to him as her uncle since she was a child. Unable to go outside and befriending only books, Anais had enjoyed his witty conversations and the stories he told about the world.

Anais gathered some documents she needed to show her uncle before heading towards the drawing room.

That’s right. Before she went, she should prepare some documents to show her uncle.

Servants pushed a wheeled machine behind her.

"No, it’s been a while!"

Pierre, who was sitting in the drawing room enjoying tea, got up from his seat with a wide smile upon seeing his beloved niece enter.

"Three months, I suppose."

"Hehe, has it already been that long?"

They shared a short hug.

Pierre examined his niece’s complexion with a somewhat worried expression.

Anais was a beauty, resembling her mother, but her illness affected not only her health but her beauty as well. Extremely pale skin that almost looked translucent, a body so frail it seemed precarious, and most of all, several metal tubes inserted into her back and a mask that made wind-like sounds when she breathed, covered her mouth.

Not only did it hide her pretty face, but it also made it impossible for her to live her life properly even if she wore nice clothes. Pierre’s eyes were filled with sympathy.

"You look even paler," Pierre remarked.

"I’ve had more work to do," Anais replied.

"More work? Haven’t you already handled all the major matters for this quarter?"

"It’s because of the Caribbean investment from before."

Pierre’s face creased in a frown. "Isn’t that matter already settled?"

"It seems there were some incomplete details in the reports. You know, I need to double-check everything."

"Right. I remember now..."

For a moment, the worried expression of an uncle concerned for his niece disappeared from Pierre’s face, replaced by a faint annoyance. However, Anais was too busy reviewing the documents she had brought, and she didn’t notice the change in his expression.

"I specifically asked for a summary from you because I knew you’d overwork yourself. So, how was it? Did you find any issues?"

"Yes, there are some suspicious points."

As the conversation turned to business, Anais’s gaze turned cold.

At times like this, she wasn’t the young Bergson heiress or the sickly Anais. She was a shrewd merchant.

She calmly pointed out every suspicious detail she had found in the business plan. Sometimes, she even showed the documents directly to illustrate what the problem was.

The more she explained, the graver Pierre’s expression became.

"So, the Flolande branch is colluding with pirates?"

"They’ve been sending a regular supply of goods to a specific route under the pretext of tolls. Most likely, those goods have flowed into Pirate Island, Freeport."

"Pirate Island... where funds are untraceable."

"Among the goods sent under the pretext of tolls, there are also special alchemical substances. Those items are exclusively traded by one of the Pirate Island’s pirate lords, the one who owns the island we’re considering for investment—the Marquis."

Pierre took out his handkerchief and wiped away some cold sweat. It was his habit to sweat when he felt worried or tense.

"So, you’re saying our money is being used to sponsor pirates?"

"We should audit the Flolande branch."

"Understood. From here on, I’ll investigate."

Pierre snatched the documents from Anais’s hand as if he were taking them away.

Anais looked slightly surprised at his attitude.

Pierre quickly offered an explanation as if making excuses, "I’m embarrassed... When your father was alive, we didn’t have such problems. Geralt’s charisma was so strong. But last year’s financial irregularities and now this... It’s a clear sign that I can’t match my brother’s abilities."

After Geralt’s death, the atmosphere within the Vergsong Trading Company had become turbulent. Problems of various sizes cropped up everywhere. However, Anais didn’t blame it all on her uncle to the extent of being shameless.

"The problem is me. How can there be order within the company when the chairman is holed up in a rural mansion?"

"You’re doing well, Anais. Thanks to you, the company’s profits have increased significantly."

"But running a company isn’t just about paperwork and numbers, right? It also involves going to the field and meeting people. The fact that the company is still holding up is mainly because of all the efforts you’ve put in, Uncle. So, don’t blame yourself too much."

She was known for her outspokenness and arrogance.

Years of isolation in the mansion had prevented her from developing proper social skills.

But on the flip side, when she opened up to someone, she relied on them to a degree that bordered on innocence.

Pierre pretended to regain his composure and silently sharpened his resolve in his heart, thanks to his niece’s comforting words.