In the following time, the two began negotiating the details of their cooperation.
Petyr proposed an enormous volume of goods, which Luke flatly rejected.
He would only supply Petyr with:
500 jars of "Mithril Sal" per month,1,000 jars of "Velvet Snow,"200 jin of "Ice Crystal Honey,"and a total of 120 bottles of various perfumes.
He emphasized that "magical production is difficult, output is limited, orders must be placed in advance, and delivery routes are unstable."
On pricing, Petyr offered: 8 gold dragons per jar for salt or sugar (far below black market hype prices), 20 gold dragons per jin for "Ice Crystal Honey" (rock sugar), 50 gold dragons per bottle for floral water, 1 gold dragon per bottle for wind oil essence, and 50 gold dragons per bottle for perfume.
Luke didn't haggle much over unit prices. Instead, he presented his own conditions:
Petyr must publicly release an official statement confirming that Luke Jacknien is a "special supplier" recognized by the royal family, with his goods enjoying royal endorsement. Second, the Gold Cloaks of the City Watch must strengthen daily patrols in the Rhaenys's Hill area where his estate is located, ensuring the safety of his person and property.
Petyr considered it briefly and agreed.
To him, these were trivial matters — just moving his mouth and adjusting a few patrol routes — yet in exchange he would gain a stable, unique, and highly profitable supply source. He could also use this to curry favor with the royal family. A win on multiple fronts.
Once the agreement was tentatively reached, the atmosphere became much more "harmonious."
After a few more pleasantries, Luke stood up to take his leave.
He left the room filled with incense and political scheming and descended the noisy stairs of Chataya's brothel.
Only when he breathed in the relatively cool night air outside did Luke let out a soft sigh.
Bronn stayed close beside him. Once they had walked some distance and the surrounding noise had quieted, he leaned in, lowering his voice with undisguised curiosity and teasing:
"I say, Luke, that guy's demands earlier sounded pretty scary — that much stock every month! Do you really have that many 'magical treasures'?"
"Also, why didn't you just offer the recipe… or however you get these things, directly to the King? Maybe Robert would be so pleased he'd grant you a fief even bigger than King's Landing and make you a carefree lord. Wouldn't that be better than dealing with a scheming bastard like 'Littlefinger'?"
Luke glanced at him, his tone calm: "First, there is no recipe. It's 'magic' and lost craftsmanship. Second, output is genuinely limited — I decide how much. Third…"
He stopped walking. In the dim light of the street, he looked at Bronn, his eyes appearing especially deep in the darkness.
"Fiefs will come! The Iron Throne will come! Everything will come!"
Bronn was momentarily stunned, then grinned, showing his yellow teeth, and gave Luke a look that clearly said I believe you, my ass. Yet a trace of thoughtfulness appeared in his eyes.
He shook his head, no longer dwelling on the topic. Instead, he rubbed his hands together and looked back longingly at the brilliantly lit entrance of Chataya's.
"Fine, you're the boss. You call the shots."
"So… my lord, since tonight's business went rather smoothly, how about we not rush back? Lord Baelish will definitely comp us anyway!"
"The girls at 'Chataya's' are the best in the Seven Kingdoms! My treat — let's go in and have some proper 'fun' to celebrate?" Bronn waggled his eyebrows, his face full of that universal male expectation.
Looking at his eager expression, Luke found it both amusing and somewhat helpless.
He patted Bronn on the shoulder. "Bronn, your 'leave' hasn't arrived yet. First escort me back to the estate. As for you… after you send me back, where you go to 'have fun' is your freedom. Just remember to report on time tomorrow."
Though somewhat disappointed he couldn't jump straight into "battle," Bronn brightened upon hearing Luke wouldn't interfere with his later activities. He nodded repeatedly:
"Got it! I'll make sure you get back safely! Then… hehe, just watch, my lord!"
The group didn't linger. The guards clustered around Luke as they headed toward Rhaenys's Hill.
King's Landing remained noisy in the night, while the "cooperation agreement" Luke had tentatively formed with Littlefinger — full of calculation and mutual benefit — was like another stone dropped into this deep pool. It was destined to stir up even more unpredictable ripples.
What concerned Luke more, however, were the 2 unexpected Free Attribute Points he had gained.
Where should he add them? Strength? Constitution? Or… try the long-empty "Intelligence" or "Spirit"?
Back at the estate on Rhaenys's Hill, which now carried the atmosphere of a true "home," after giving a few instructions to Arthur and Bronn, Luke went upstairs alone to the second floor and entered the private space he had designated as an absolute forbidden zone.
He locked the door securely, checked the windows once more, then sat down at the desk.
Outside the window were the sparse lights of King's Landing and the deep night sky. In the room, he had only lit a soft USB-charged night lamp brought from Blue Star.
With a thought, the semi-transparent system interface unfolded before his eyes. The data remained clear:
[Name]: Luke [Gender]: Male [Age]: 25 [Strength]: 3 [Constitution]: 7 [Intelligence]: 1 [Spirit]: 1 [Free Attribute Points]: 2
His gaze lingered between [Strength] and [Constitution].
Today's meeting with Petyr Baelish, along with everything he had seen and heard in King's Landing during this period, had given him a deeper understanding of the dangers of this world.
Dragons? The Others? Gods?
To be honest, Luke wasn't afraid of any of those things!
Once he introduced some "tools of equality" from Blue Star, if 9mm bullets couldn't kill them, he'd just bring out anti-aircraft guns or thermobaric bombs. Let's see how they act tough then!
What was truly lethal were: Poisoned daggers in dark alleys, colorless toxins mixed into fine wine at banquets, seemingly obedient servants hiding murderous intent, and even fatal schemes hidden behind the smiles of business partners…
Impossible to guard against!
This was a low-magic world where supernatural powers were hidden. Swords, poison, and conspiracy were the everyday means of killing.
If dragons or the Others really came, Luke had plenty of ways to deal with them.
"Constitution determines how much damage I can withstand, how quickly I recover, and the strength of my life force." Luke murmured to himself.
He recalled the earth-shaking changes from when he had previously dumped 3 points into Constitution — injuries healed, body optimized, and even height increased!
The feeling of life-level improvement was intoxicating.
Moreover, he had a vague intuition: when Constitution broke through a certain threshold — for example, 10 points — it might trigger some kind of qualitative change.
For instance, strong resistance to common toxins, or even reaching "immunity to all poisons"?
The importance of such an ability could not be overstated for a former useless college student!
"First ensure survival, then pursue output."
Luke made his decision.
Strength could be slowly improved through training and future attribute points, but strengthening Constitution — especially the possible toxin resistance it brought — was currently the most strategically valuable investment.
He focused his mind and locked onto the number "7" behind the [Constitution] attribute.
"Add points."
With the thought, the "2" behind [Free Attribute Points] instantly cleared to zero.
Meanwhile, the number in the [Constitution] column jumped from "7" to "9" as if infused with vitality.
This time there was no surging warm current or overwhelming drowsiness like the previous addition.
The change was gentler, yet equally clear.
A deeper, more fundamental sense of comfort spread through his limbs and body.
He could feel his heartbeat becoming steadier and stronger, and even his breathing seemed longer.
The muscle fibers beneath his skin appeared to be silently adjusting and optimizing, becoming denser and more resilient.
The slightly "slender" build he had gained from the previous height increase now seemed fuller. The lines were smoother and more natural, without appearing bulky.
The most noticeable change was a feeling of "cleanliness" and "clarity."
It was as if the subtle "dust" and "fatigue" accumulated in his body from urban life on Blue Star and the hardships and tension after transmigrating had been washed away and dispersed by an invisible force.
His mind was exceptionally clear, and his five senses seemed slightly sharper.
He stood up and performed a few simple stretches and punches in the room.
His sense of strength had also noticeably improved. The gains in stamina, coordination, and body control were even more obvious.
He felt he could now sprint several kilometers or engage in prolonged combat training without tiring easily.
"Constitution 9… just one point away from 10." Luke clenched his fist, feeling the warm, life-filled heat in his palm.
He felt no disappointment.
A Constitution of 9 was already far beyond what ordinary people could reach (likely 3–5).
This granted him stronger recovery, greater endurance, and better resistance to harsh environments.
As for toxin resistance… it might have begun to show, but it surely wouldn't compare to the qualitative change after reaching 10 points.
"Next time I gain attribute points, I'll prioritize raising Constitution to 10 to see the effect."
He set his plan: "Then comes Strength. I need to raise it to a level sufficient for self-protection and deterrence."
"Once Strength is high enough, one sword per Mountain — no problem!"
"Even without technique, I can still be the Sword God of扶叼!"
"One force breaks ten thousand techniques — got it…"
The abundant energy and clear mind brought by the Constitution increase allowed him to plan the next steps more calmly.
"Starting tomorrow, have Bronn intensify training for those ten new recruits. I also need to find opportunities to personally learn some combat techniques from this world. I can't always rely on others for protection," Luke thought.
"And those gemstones… I need to find safe and reliable channels to cash them out as soon as possible. The deal with Petyr requires a stable supply of 'magical items' as cover. This is actually a good thing — it explains my frequent 'outings for procurement.'"
"Poison immunity…"
He savored this tempting possibility, his eyes growing even more determined.
Surviving — and surviving healthy and strong — was the prerequisite for enjoying wealth and power.
Constitution was the solidest foundation he had chosen for now.
An indestructible kidney is the eternal pursuit!
The night grew deeper, yet Luke felt no drowsiness at all.
One of the effects of the Constitution increase was that his need for sleep seemed to have decreased. His energy was even more vigorous.