The next morning, the sunlight was just right.
A plain flatbed horse-drawn carriage with no markings, pulled by exceptionally strong horses, stopped in front of the tightly closed gates of the Luke Estate on Renly's Hill.
Two plainly dressed but sharp-eyed men jumped down. One of them knocked the door ring.
They were men sent by Petyr Baelish.
They brought an unremarkable but unusually heavy wooden chest.
Under Arthur's escort, Luke received them in the front hall.
Without unnecessary words, the other party inspected the goods Luke had prepared—packed in specially made wooden boxes. After confirming everything was correct, they pointed at the chest they had brought.
"My lord, this is the payment from Lord Baelish—twenty thousand gold dragons. Please check."
The chest was opened, revealing dazzling gold dragons piled to the brim.
The piercing golden light almost blinded anyone who looked at it, accompanied by the heavy, oppressive presence of precious metal.
Twenty thousand gold dragons!
Each coin weighed about 8 grams, totaling a full one hundred and sixty kilograms!
One person alone could not move it.
"Bronn!"
Luke called out behind him.
Bronn, who had been supervising the training of his men and the new recruits, hurried over. Seeing the chest full of gold dragons, he drew in a sharp breath, his eyes widening. "Gods above… Did you rob the Lannisters' gold mine?"
"Stop talking nonsense and move it to the warehouse," Luke ordered.
Bronn rubbed his hands together with a wicked grin and called over two of the strongest guards.
Only with the combined strength of the three could they lift the heavy money chest and, grunting with effort, carry it toward the reinforced temporary warehouse in the back courtyard.
Watching their retreating figures, Bronn dusted off his hands, leaned close to Luke, and lowered his voice with his usual worldly, mocking tone:
"I bet a hundred gold dragons that the old fox Petyr Baelish will resell this to the royal family or some other noble sucker and at least double the price!"
Luke's lips curved into a meaningful arc. He shook his head gently, his voice calm but certain: "Bronn, your vision is too small. I bet a million gold dragons that the price he sells to King Robert will be at least… ten times my purchase price."
Bronn's smile froze, then turned into genuine shock. He opened his mouth, wanting to say something, but finally just clicked his tongue and muttered, "Fuck… one bigger black-hearted bastard than the other?"
Petyr's men left satisfied with the goods.
However, this was only the beginning of the storm.
That afternoon, the estate gates barely closed again.
Wave after wave of merchants—dressed differently, speaking with different accents, but all equally shrewd and eager—arrived with various letters of introduction or by directly giving their names.
Fur merchants from the North, ore dealers from the Westerlands, spice traders from the Reach, fruit and wine merchants from Dorne, grain merchants from the Vale, cloth merchants from the Riverlands, and even ship owners and trade representatives from Braavos, Pentos, Myr, and other Free Cities…
They swarmed like sharks smelling blood, rushing from every corner of King's Landing and even straight off newly docked merchant ships.
Their sole purpose: to establish contact and trade with the "Mr. Jaconien" who could supply "Mithril Salt," "Swan Velvet Snow," and various magical perfumes and items.
Luke welcomed everyone. With Arthur's assistance, he met the merchants one by one in a temporarily arranged "reception room" in the front hall.
His attitude was mild, but his terms were clear:
Payment accepted only in gold or high-quality gemstones (raw stones or simply cut were fine).No credit or barter of any kind.Fixed prices, no bargaining.
Pricing:
One pound of fine white sugar or refined salt: 30 gold dragons.One 100ml elegant glass bottle of perfume: 50 gold dragons. Other items such as flower water, essential balm (Wind Oil Essence), etc., also had clear listed prices.
The prices seemed exorbitant, but compared to the already sky-high black market prices and the unique quality and rarity of these goods, the merchants hesitated only briefly before gritting their teeth and accepting.
After all, they were the ones who had driven the black market prices up!
What they saw was the enormous profit after resale, especially the premium they could charge in their home regions or specific markets.
For three full days, carriages never stopped coming to the estate gates.
On average, six or seven groups of merchants arrived each day, with transaction amounts ranging from a few thousand to nearly ten thousand gold dragons each.
Over three days, more than twenty batches of merchants completed deals, leaving behind mountains of money chests and small bags of various gemstones.
Rough estimate: gold income exceeded one hundred thousand gold dragons!
Adding Baelish's twenty thousand, the total number of gold dragons in Luke's hands had reached a staggering one hundred and thirty thousand!
The weight exceeded one ton!
During these three days of intense trading, after another group of Reach merchants left with reverence and satisfaction, the system prompt arrived quietly once again:
[Free Attribute Points +2]
Luke's heart stirred.
As expected!
Attribute points were not only gained by contacting important figures but were also linked to one's own actions and influence!
Increasing reputation could also bring attribute points!
This gave him a clearer understanding of the system's mechanics.
He unhesitatingly added the two new points to [Constitution] again.
The number jumped from "9" to "11."
A warmer, deeper, and thicker current than before surged through his entire body.
This time the change was more restrained.
But Luke could clearly feel that his vitality, recovery ability, and resistance to various external harms (including disease, fatigue, and possibly toxins) had reached an entirely new level.
His body felt as if it were gently wrapped in an invisible, tough energy field, full of powerful vitality.
He even had the illusion that if he were accidentally cut by an ordinary blade now, the wound would heal far faster than normal.
Constitution 11!
He had broken through the 10-point threshold!
Although there was no immediate clear prompt of "immunity to all poisons," he believed his resistance to ordinary toxins must have increased dramatically. This made him feel much more at ease.
Looking at the mountain of gold dragons piled in the warehouse and the small bags of various gemstones in the corner.
Luke kept only ten thousand gold dragons for the estate's daily operations, guard salaries, and possible future expansion. The remaining one hundred and twenty thousand gold dragons were all stored in his personal space.
The space had changed again—each side had expanded to 10 meters, giving a volume of 1,000 cubic meters!
Bronn watched Luke make heavy chests of gold dragons "disappear into thin air" as if by magic, and then watched goods in the warehouse being "replenished" at an unbelievable speed. After several days of continuous shocks, he had grown somewhat numb, yet the curiosity and inquiry in his eyes only grew stronger.
"Seven hells, Luke, where the fuck did you get all this stuff from?"
Bronn finally couldn't hold back. After watching Luke "replenish" the shelves once again, he leaned over and asked in a low voice, "I've been here watching every day and I never saw any large shipments coming in! Are you… really pulling this out of thin air? Or do you actually know magic?"
Luke turned his head, looked at Bronn's face full of "I want to know," and gave a mysterious, profound smile. He gently uttered a few words:
"Guess?"
Bronn was choked speechless. He rolled his eyes, but the realization that "this employer is definitely not simple" had already taken deep root.
As the frenzied trading continued, the balance in Luke's Blue Star account also dropped sharply.
He bought large quantities of bamboo jars, custom labels, wholesale sugar and salt, perfumes, flower water, and later added new products:
Soap priced at 10 gold dragons,A4 paper at 1 gold dragon for 10 sheets,Pencils at 1 gold dragon,Ballpoint pens at 10 gold dragons,Fountain pens at 50 gold dragons,Ceramic cups at 10 gold dragons,Glass goblets at 10 gold dragons,Even "Yiwu premium" jewelry at 100 gold dragons…
These extremely low-cost items on Blue Star flowed from his space to Westeros like they were free, in exchange for massive amounts of gold.
In a short time, he had spent over fifty thousand from his Blue Star account, with the balance dropping below one hundred thousand.
But looking at the more than five hundred kilograms of gold in his space, along with those naturally valuable gemstones whose worth was hard to estimate, Luke was almost laughing himself silly.
A few tens of thousands of RMB in cost, in exchange for such terrifying returns—this business was practically robbery!
Bronn's worldview was refreshed every day.
He held a crystal-clear goblet filled with murky ale, took a careful sip, then gently set it down, afraid of breaking this "ten-gold-dragon treasure."
He looked at Luke with a strange expression and probed:
"Luke, tell me honestly—you're not actually some… magic-using elf, are you? Or a descendant of those mysterious Children of the Forest? How else do you explain all this stuff?"
Luke was playing with a pigeon-egg-sized raw aquamarine he had traded for "Dragon Blood" perfume. Without lifting his head, he answered in the tone he had used several times before (which no one took seriously):
"I am a Targaryen."
Annie, who was carefully wiping a "fifty-gold-dragon" diamond-inlaid fountain pen case nearby, looked up. Her big blue eyes were full of admiring stars as she gazed at Luke, as if looking at a walking legend.
Her master was mysterious, wealthy, generous, incredibly good to her and her sister…
And he possessed so many unbelievable treasures and held the noble identity of a "Targaryen"!
Although she didn't know what a Targaryen was, it sounded extremely impressive!
That afternoon, Luke felt the commercial layout near the estate could be optimized. He planned to buy a decent but poorly performing tavern as a potential future base or intelligence-gathering point.
He went out with Bronn and two guards to negotiate.
It went smoothly—the original owner was worried about the poor business.
Luke easily acquired the deed and transfer documents for three thousand gold dragons (20% above market price).
By the time the transaction was completed and they walked out of the rather deserted tavern, dusk was approaching.
Just as they stepped onto the street, a commotion at a brightly lit brothel across the way with a conspicuous sign caught their attention.
Two knights in ornate armor and snow-white cloaks stood solemnly at the brothel entrance, their sharp eyes scanning the street.
The crests on their armor and the striking white cloaks revealed their noble identity—the Kingsguard!
"White cloaks?" Luke raised an eyebrow.
"Barristan Selmy," Bronn said quietly beside him, with a hint of excitement at the spectacle.
"Lord Commander of the Kingsguard, 'Barristan the Bold.' If he's here… then the person inside is probably who I think it is."
Sure enough, not long after, a commotion erupted at the brothel entrance. A group of people escorted a massively built, pot-bellied man dressed in luxurious clothes and wearing a gem-encrusted golden crown. He staggered out, still reeking of wine.
The fat man's face was flushed, he burped loudly, and one arm was still wrapped around a scantily clad prostitute with large breasts jiggling as she giggled. His voice boomed as he shouted something.
He was the master of the Iron Throne, King of the Seven Kingdoms—Robert Baratheon the First.
Luke watched the legendary king from a distance. Seeing his rough, indulgent image exactly as described in the show and books, he felt somewhat speechless.
This was the man who ruled Westeros?
A contradictory being who drowned himself in wine and women, crushed by debt and cuckoldry, yet could still unleash terrifying power on the battlefield.
He suddenly thought of something and asked Bronn curiously in a low voice, "Bronn, you said earlier… the king would go back and check on Cersei to see if she was cheating? How did you know Cersei was cheating?"
Bronn was enjoying the king's disgraceful scene. He was stunned by the question.
Turning his head, he showed genuine confusion. "Huh? I knew? When did I know that?"
"I was just talking shit! The king comes out of a brothel in broad daylight instead of going home to his queen—what else would he do? I was guessing!"
Seeing Luke's thoughtful expression, as if he had caught onto some key point, Bronn became even more puzzled. "Wait… Luke, why do you also look like 'you really knew'? Don't tell me… Queen Cersei really is cheating? With who? Holy shit, this is huge news!"
Luke smiled and didn't explain further. He withdrew his gaze from the royal party moving away and patted Bronn's shoulder, his tone returning to calm:
"Let's go. We've bought the tavern. Next, we need to think about how to run it. Also, watch your mouth. It's best not to inquire too much into royal gossip."
Bronn scratched his head and muttered, "You were the one who asked first," but still obediently followed Luke. However, his eyes kept glancing toward the direction the king had gone, then back at Luke. The doubts in his heart grew like wild grass.
This employer was not only mysterious and wealthy, but also…
seemed unusually sensitive to the secrets inside the Red Keep?
Night gradually fell. The lights of King's Landing lit up one after another, covering countless desires, deals, and secrets.
And Luke, who had just acquired a tavern and possessed immense wealth and secrets, was slowly weaving his own web in this city intertwined with power and conspiracy.