Chapter 86: Bronn's Prisoners
With a piece of straw dangling from his lips, Bronn casually tossed a burlap sack at Ian's feet. He then squatted, brushed aside some rotten vegetable leaves clinging to the bag, and hauled out a man bound hand and foot.
"Who is this?" Ian demanded an explanation.
"You don't know him?" It was Bronn's turn to be surprised. He quickly added, "Then again, I suppose it's normal for the captain's son not to know a common sellsword." Bronn grabbed the prisoner by the hair, forcing his head up to face Ian. "But you know him, don't you?" he asked the prisoner.
The man just stared at Ian, his face a mask of confusion.
"Oh, come on, friend. It's no good playing dumb now," Bronn said, a cruel smile spreading across his face. "You were perfectly happy to surrender a moment ago."
"That's enough," Ian cut in, his voice sharp. "Stop playing games. Just tell me who he is."
"One of the mutineers from your ship," Bronn replied flatly.
How in the Seven Hells did he figure that out? Ian was baffled. "How can you tell?"
"I was in Flea Bottom, investigating the origins of that 'Stranger's Curse' you mentioned. By pure chance, I ran into this friend here." Influenced by Ian, Bronn had also taken to calling everyone 'friend.'
"He was asking the innkeeper I was looking for about any nearby [Ruins] related to [Death] and the [Underground]. I happened to overhear him from a distance…"
A player who bought the third clue! Ian came to the conclusion instantly.
"My first thought was that he worked for your first mate," Bronn continued. "After all, your first mate was the one who gave you the clues in that letter. Since you said you couldn't contact him anymore, I decided to follow this one. The fellow's good at hiding, I'll give him that. Lost him for a bit. But I finally cornered him where no one could see. When I mentioned the Laughing Lion and asked about the first mate, he played dumb. So I gave him more. The moment I mentioned the chest and the Valyrian steel sword, he started begging for his life. That's when I knew. He wasn't your first mate's man. He's one of the mutineers. What's more, it seems they're fighting among themselves, looking for the very same accomplices who got away with the treasure."
If the situation weren't so serious, Ian would have applauded Bronn's brilliant deductions.
Well, since your existence helps me sell my story, I suppose your trip to this world of ice and fire won't be in vain after all.
"So, traitor," Ian said, turning his gaze to the captive player. "Do you have anything else to say?"
The player was speechless. When Bronn had captured him, he'd assumed Bronn was another player. But now, hearing their conversation, he realized this man claiming to be the son of the Laughing Lion's captain was the true mastermind.
"Well, if you have no last words, then…" Ian said, drawing his sword and stepping toward the unlucky man. If possible, he preferred to do the deed himself to claim the full reward.
"In the name of Robert of the House Baratheon, First of His Name, King of the Andals, the Rhoynar, and the First Men, Lord of the Seven Kingdoms, and by the authority of my father, Ser Gillian Lannister, Lord Captain of the Laughing Lion, I, Lucion Lannister, sentence you to death for treason."
"Wait! Sir, wait!" the prisoner cried out, not expecting Ian to act so decisively. "I surrender! Let me go! We… we can talk. Alone?"
"Fine," Ian raised an eyebrow. He gestured to the men around them. "Back away… you two, stay."
His last words were for Rohr and Keith. Even with the enemy bound, Ian had no intention of being alone with another player.
Once Bronn and the others had withdrawn, Ian spoke. "Alright. What did you want to say to me alone?"
"Them?" The prisoner glanced hesitantly at Rohr and Keith.
"They're my NPCs. You can ignore them."
"Are you… are you the player who got 'First Blood'?" the prisoner asked, his eyes wide with shock.
"This is the time for you to prove your worth to me, my friend."
"Do you have any allies?"
"No," Ian said, shaking his head. It was the truth.
"As expected of the player who took 'First Blood'," the prisoner sighed. "To build up this much power all on your own." He then looked up, his expression turning eager. "I want to invite you to join our alliance. There are three of us. We're very powerful already. With you, we could practically guarantee victory!"
Guarantee a victory worth a paltry quarter-million dollars per person? Is that why we came to another world, to risk our lives for so little? Do you even believe that yourself? "Oh?" Ian feigned excitement. "And where are your other allies?"
"Ah, no, Sir," the prisoner forced a smile. "I can only tell you about them after you've joined. Otherwise, the system would register it as me backstabbing my allies. I can't afford that kind of loss."
"So, you still have a lot of points, then?" Ian asked, a slow smile spreading across his face.
The prisoner's expression faltered. Having said what he said, he couldn't deny it. "Yes. I have quite a few left."
"A lot of points left even after buying the third clue. Your alliance has been busy eliminating other players."
The prisoner said nothing more. His intuition screamed that this 'Sir Lucion' had no intention of forming any alliance.
"If I'm not mistaken, your group won the first phase of this game in Pentos, didn't you? You cast a net near Illyrio's manse and eliminated all the careless players who tried to join the Dragon Queen. Perhaps you even completed a complex optional quest and earned a massive number of points?"
The prisoner remained silent, but a sheen of cold sweat on his forehead betrayed his rising panic.
"And when you came to King's Landing, you didn't travel together. You split up. Your two allies took the main force to the Street of the Sisters, setting up a decoy to draw the attention of other players. Meanwhile, you were sent to Flea Bottom to secretly investigate the treasure's location using those few clues."
"You… How did you…" The prisoner couldn't form the words.
"I can't join a four-person alliance," Ian said, his hand moving to rest on the hilt of his sword again. "You should know that coming to this damn place for a quarter of a million dollars is a joke. So, unless you can show me some other value you possess…"
"I know where the treasure chest is," the prisoner blurted out, his voice shaking.
The words hung in the air. "What did you say?"
"I can tell you where the chest is," the prisoner repeated, a desperate hope in his eyes. "But you have to agree to my conditions first."
Ian's expression was like ice. "You are not in a position to make conditions."
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