LRAB Chapter 81: Tell Old Mo, I want to eat fish.
Chapter 81: Tell Old Mo, I want to eat fish.
After killing everyone in the caravan.
Fengyun ordered the battlefield to be cleaned up.
The intact warhorses and dung horses were pulled aside, and all the usable weapons on the ground were collected and divided into two piles. The large, high-quality weapons were kept for their own use and distributed when they returned.
The lower-quality items will be sold to new players later. Since they are all broke, they won't look down on these cheap and affordable beginner equipment.
"What did you poop out?"
Fengyun arrived in front of the goods and looked at the players who were counting them.
"It's all spices, and wine in barrels," the player replied readily when he saw it was the guild leader.
"Yes, collect them all, haul them back to our hideout, and then we'll move on to the next deal. It seems the Braavos merchants are keeping their goods stuck in their warehouses, too afraid to come out!"
Fengyun nodded, gave a word of instruction, and then called out to the group of players.
Everyone cheered upon hearing this. Although they had resurrected many times in the past few days and spent a lot of Kingdom Coins on it, they had also earned a lot at the same time.
As the saying goes, the bigger the storm, the more expensive the fish.
Inside Braavos.
This is the third group of merchant representatives sent out of the Sea King's Palace by the Sea King.
It's frustrating, really. Braavos may not be the strongest among the trading city-states, but with its abundant wealth, it could easily take on three opponents at once.
However, recently they have been frustrated by a group of hundreds of Targaryens who have blocked the wealthy merchants and nobles, causing them to panic and leaving large quantities of goods piled up in warehouses that they cannot sell.
If it weren't for their maritime trade, the Sea King's Palace would have been overturned by the angry merchants by now.
"The envoy from across the strait hasn't left yet, has he? Tell him that I've agreed to King Robert's loan on behalf of the Iron Treasury, and the previous loans can be postponed for a while."
"As long as he sends his troops quickly and joins us in destroying this annoying Targaryen worm!"
The roar of Aquaman Frego nearly shattered Quiro's eardrums.
It's easy to imagine how angry the other party was.
Ever since Viserys launched an unannounced war against Braavos with the help of Loras, Frego, who was already seriously ill, has become increasingly agitated. Quero sometimes worries that Frego might suddenly die of anger.
Frego was so angry that his fists were clenched so tightly they were about to bleed.
How could he not be furious? He held two trump cards: an unparalleled fleet and an incredibly wealthy iron treasury, yet he was constantly at a disadvantage.
Having a lot of strength but not being able to unleash it is enough to suffocate a person.
That's exactly how Frego felt at that moment.
"We can't delay any longer," Frego said, turning to Quero after calming himself down slightly.
"How many mercenaries have been assembled so far?"
"There are already 10,000 people, but many more mercenary groups are on their way!"
Quero answered truthfully.
"We can't wait any longer, assemble the troops immediately," Frego said slowly.
"Oh, and find the House of Black and White for me. Tell them the time has come; the Sea King of Braavos has used a name: Viserys Targaryen!"
Frego gestured for Quero to come closer, then whispered in his ear.
Kuiro's pupils suddenly contracted, and his expression changed, but when he looked up again, he regained his aloof expression and turned to leave the Sea King's Palace.
The Kingdom of Junlin across the strait.
In a flea-infested area, a group of burly men armed with daggers stormed into a bakery. The leader held the knife to the bakery owner's neck.
"I'm in trouble. I need fifty silver deer. You have to help me, right now!"
"I'm sorry, I...I don't have that much money!" The bakery owner gave a French military salute, looking dejected.
The people passing by the bakery watched everything indifferently.
This kind of thing happens far too often in flea dens.
"What are you doing?"
Just as the bakery owner was resigning himself to his bad luck, a voice came from behind the burly men.
The burly man at the head of the group and the bakery owner both looked in the direction of the sound.
The newcomer wore a black breastplate adorned with four gold plates, a robe made of wool dyed gold, and a long sword hanging at his waist. Behind him stood ten soldiers clad in black armor and similarly covered in gold robes.
Capital Garrison!
"Para, the squad leader in the golden robes! Would someone as important as you interfere in the livelihood of us brothers?"
The burly man who had been grabbing the bakery owner by the collar released his grip and looked at the newcomer with disdain.
"Don't you fucking move! You know me, that's good, but I don't know you, you'd better put your weapon down! The garrison doesn't waste words with scum, I think you know that!"
Paro placed his hand on the hilt of his sword at his waist and rebuked him righteously.
"Give this golden-robed man a piece of your mind!" the burly man at the head of the group ordered his men, his words a mix of bravado and fear.
The burly men trapped inside the bakery exchanged glances, then immediately grabbed their short knives and iron axes and charged out.
The men in golden robes behind Paro immediately rushed forward with their spears, but Paro stopped them with his hand.
Then, to the bewilderment of his men in golden robes, Paro untied a wooden stick from his waist and charged forward, quickly and cleanly taking down several burly men.
He didn't even draw his sword!
The ten men in golden robes were stunned. Was this still the same Captain Paro they knew?
"In my neighborhood, I will not tolerate anyone defying the King's laws! Now, you piece of trash, either get out of here, or I'll invite you back to open your heart and have some serious talk!"
Paro's voice was so loud that the previously indifferent pedestrians burst into applause.
"We haven't seen such righteous garrison soldiers in a long time!"
"You did a great job; that's how you teach these scum a lesson!"
"Alright, Paro, we brothers will remember you! Be careful on your way home tonight, don't get ambushed!"
The burly man threw the bakery owner aside, spat fiercely, and left in a sorry state with his men amidst the curses and spittle of the surrounding crowd.
"Are you alright? It's my fault that such criminals have appeared in my jurisdiction!" Paro strode into the bakery and helped the old man up amidst the even more astonished gazes of his men behind him.
"No...it's alright, sir." The bakery owner was also quite surprised; he felt like he didn't quite recognize the person in front of him.
"From today onwards, I will patrol the streets with my brothers, and I will protect everyone here!" Paro shouted as he walked out of the bakery to the crowd of onlookers.
The crowd erupted in cheers.
In a corner, Roger looked at the weightlifter with a puzzled expression:
"Can you make money this way?"
"Of course, not only do they make money, they also have to say thank you."
While lifting weights, he slurped up the fresh milk in his hand and said casually:
"Let's go, we still have to act in a few more plays with our Captain Paro today. Tonight, we'll have a good chat with his men. I think they'll be interested in this too."
Roger glanced at the weightlifter with a strange look in his eyes.