Chapter 85: Diary of Moving Bricks in Dragon Cave
Ian fell into a deep silence. With clues this sparse, the truth was beyond his grasp.
If he could only get his hands on Bonn's body or examine the crime scene himself, he was certain he could find more information. But both options were impossible.
For now, he and the mysterious killer were two shadows hunting in the same darkness. If Ian were to ask the Gold Cloaks for Bonn's corpse or go poking around the scene of the murder, his actions would eventually be noticed. The moment the mysterious player identified him, Ian would be dragged out of the shadows and into the light.
Compared to that outcome, he would rather let the killer have his way in Flea Bottom for now. Ian would focus on his own treasure hunt in the Dragonpit and avoid a direct confrontation.
After sending the two messengers on their way, Ian did not rejoin the hard labor of clearing rubble as he had during the day. Instead, he found a quiet corner and let his mind wrestle with the events in Flea Bottom.
If one considered the murder of the 'bait,' Bonn, as an isolated incident, the most suspicious person was undoubtedly the landlady.
Though his mercenaries had seen a massive axe wound on Bonn's chest, it might not have been the true cause of death. Ian couldn't be sure without the body. What if the old landlady had managed to poison Bonn, laid his body flat on the ground, then raised a logging axe high over her head and brought it down with all her might? Aided by gravity, such a blow could certainly mimic the wound a strong man might inflict in battle.
But unfortunately, Bonn's death was not an isolated case.
A pattern had emerged in recent days: the victims were all loners who fit the initial profile of a player. The only one capable of such systematic hunting was another player.
Ian knew that at this stage of the game, it was entirely possible for a skilled player to kill a common mercenary instantly. For those with extensive combat experience from past lives, even a slight increase in their stats could lead to a qualitative leap in strength.
What Ian couldn't understand was how the killer had managed to evade the three separate teams of mercenaries he had watching the courtyard from different directions. How had they snuck in, killed Bonn, and then vanished without a trace?
*Could it be that they knew the locations of my three teams in advance?* the thought struck him suddenly.
If that were the case, it would be simple enough to find a way to avoid their lines of sight. For example, before infiltrating, an accomplice could create a loud commotion nearby. While his mercenaries' attention was diverted, the killer could slip over the wall. It would only take a moment. There were a dozen ways to do it.
But if the killer had truly seen through the 'Naughty Jokes' operation, they would also know that Bonn was merely bait.
Logically, a player that cunning would have hidden themselves, waiting for an opportunity to ambush and wipe out the entire mercenary team. They wouldn't simply kill the bait, tipping their hand and alerting the enemy.
In Ian's opinion, a player capable of casting such a wide net over Flea Bottom and killing so many rivals without being seen was too smart for such a clumsy move. It was more likely the killer had no idea Bonn was part of a trap and had simply treated him as another lone player.
But that brought him back to the original problem. If the 'Naughty Jokes' team had the element of surprise and still failed to spot any trace of the attacker, then the killer's abilities were astonishing.
*I can only hope the new group of players from Pentos stumbles into that net,* Ian thought grimly. *Perhaps then I'll have a chance to profit from the chaos.*
***
Time bled into the fourth day of Ian's excavation in the Dragonpit.
After a full day of grueling labor, they had yet to clear even a single basement, but the men had gradually mastered the techniques. Their efficiency today was much higher.
It wasn't until late that afternoon that they finally cleared the first crypt. Unfortunately, a search revealed no hidden tunnel inside.
Seeing how slow the progress was, Ian decided he could no longer afford the luxury of secrecy. Before dusk fell, he summoned all the sailors from the *Shayala's Dance* who had been waiting by the river, bringing them into the Dragonpit.
To convince the sailors to join in on this miserable hard labor, Ian paid them a deposit of fifty gold dragons in cash, up front.
And so, time stretched to the sixth day.
In the past two days, several more players had died. The remaining player count now stood at sixty-four.
Two more suspected players had also arrived in King's Landing on a ship from Pentos. To monitor all three groups at once, Sir Grantham had been forced to reduce the manpower watching the first group holed up on the Street of the Sisters.
Unfortunately, the two newest players quickly ran into trouble.
One of them spotted Grantham's man and skillfully gave him the slip. The other was murdered that very night, killed in the exact same mysterious fashion as Bonn.
According to the mercenary who had been tailing him, he never saw a single soul enter the house the man had rented.
Faced with this situation, Ian gave up completely on the idea of competing for control of Flea Bottom. On his orders, the entire 'Naughty Jokes' team ceased operations. No new bait was sent out; they were simply to hold their positions and wait.
Furthermore, his men had still found no information regarding the origin of the term "Stranger's Curse."
This made Ian increasingly anxious. Over the past two days, he had been mulling it over and had finally realized why he was so sensitive to that specific name.
The Stranger was the god who represented death. As a god, he was also inherently holy. He fit two of the system's clues: [Death] and [Holy].
Though it was probably just his mind playing tricks on him, Ian sent Bronn to Flea Bottom to investigate the matter personally. His security in the Dragonpit was all but guaranteed. He was curious to see if the man who would one day be the ultimate fixer in the world of Ice and Fire could bring him any surprises.
In short, all the news from outside the Dragonpit was bad, and things inside weren't much better.
Ian and his men had fallen into a rhythm of clearing one basement per day. As of today, they had cleared the third, but still, they could not find the tunnel entrance Ian had predicted.
As the number of remaining [Temple Crypts] dwindled, Ian's heart grew heavier. If his grand theory was wrong, then all the time he was wasting in the Dragonpit would cost him every other opportunity.
***
On the afternoon of the eighth day, as the second-to-last basement was finally cleared of rubble, Ian eagerly stepped inside. He was preparing to search for the tunnel himself, a ritual he performed after every crypt was opened.
At that exact moment, the sentry on duty outside the Dragonpit ran in, breathless.
He reported that Bronn was back.
And he had captured someone.
Ian was confused. He had no idea what Bronn could have been up to, but he could only put aside his inspection of the basement and go out to see what was happening.
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