Geralt doesn't take the look personally. Most will look at him that way at such an admission but they also didn't have to believe him when he says so. It normally takes seeing it with one's own eyes.

He doesn't react. No smug smile. No words to entice the other into a heroic tale of when he defeated a striga. Geralt doesn't feel the need to prove anything. So, he doesn't.

Looking towards the inn, he gives a slight shrug and looks back at the woman.

"Those ones pay the best," Geralt says, gesturing towards the building. "I could use a drink, if you want to continue this conversation inside."