Chapter 115: The situation in Pentos
After the initial wave of excitement subsided, Ian quickly noticed a problem. The task had been judged as having [medium] difficulty, yet he had done almost nothing to complete it.
He thought back to the quest to avenge the Black Falcon, which had also been rated [medium]. That had required a tremendous amount of effort to see through to the end.
In truth, Ian had never been able to figure out the system's criteria for determining the difficulty of optional tasks. He had once tried asking Annie, but was simply told that the information was a secret.
His own theory was that the difficulty should scale with a player's current strength. Otherwise, a high-level player could return to the starting areas and effortlessly grind tasks like killing a certain knight or destroying a mercenary company, reaping infinite rewards. Based on his understanding of the system's cunning designers, he refused to believe such a glaring bug would be allowed to exist.
But the task he had just completed seemed to defy that logic. It was a quest that required him to do nothing at all.
Rereading the description, Ian finally saw it. The problem lay in the wording.
The task itself still required him to [find the mole in Illyrio's merchant guild]. The [medium] difficulty rating was for the act of catching that mole. The system assumed a mole actually existed, and considering Ian's current strength, hunting for a single traitor within Illyrio's vast network would indeed be a task of medium difficulty.
Ian had completed the mission instantly because he had convinced Illyrio to add a specific condition for success: that no slave ship appeared in the end. Since there was no mole, no slave ship was ever going to appear, and the mission had completed itself.
A thrill shot through Ian's heart. *This is it. This is my chance to get ahead.*
Although the exploit was highly situational, requiring a unique set of circumstances to even discover, its potential was outrageous. With the game's organizers having publicly promised not to fix any bugs, he could theoretically follow the same pattern, engineer his own 'scripts,' and mass-produce completed quests.
A sliver of caution pierced his excitement. *With designers this cunning, did they really not prepare some kind of countermeasure?*
He pushed the thought aside. That was a problem for later. He would find a chance to test the theory again and find out for sure.
"Sir Ian?" A voice cut through his thoughts, pulling him back to the present.
"Who are you?" Ian asked, looking at the well-dressed old man before him, his mind taking a moment to catch up.
"My name is Mills. I am Magister Illyrio's steward. By his order, I am here to answer your questions."
Right. Ian had almost forgotten the real matter at hand. He already knew the mole didn't exist, but he had no evidence to convince Illyrio. Of course, even with evidence, he couldn't simply present it and be done. He still needed this opportunity to acquaint himself with Illyrio's key subordinates and find a way to borrow their strength.
How perfect this was. With the mole problem out of the way, his objective could shift from an investigation that *served* his own ends to one that *exclusively* served his own ends.
"Steward Mills. Thank you for your trouble."
"It is my duty," Mills replied with a polite smile. He seemed to have a good first impression of the young man. "So, where shall we begin?"
"Here is a list." Steward Mills handed a sheet of paper to Ian. "It details the merchants in the Magister's guild whose ships are expected to return to Pentos before the end of this month or early next."
He pointed to the top of the page. "The seven names here require your focus. The first two are known associates of Taro Byrne. The third through sixth have been identified as members of the Braavosi faction, and the seventh belongs to the Volantene faction."
"Why are known spies allowed to remain?" Ian asked immediately.
"The Magister is a man of business," Mills explained smoothly. "His policy of not involving himself in party disputes is not about offending neither side, but about not offending *both sides at the same time*. Therefore, when other magisters wish to partake in these profitable ventures, Magister Illyrio usually turns a blind eye."
Ian nodded, understanding the subtle calculus of power.
"Do you have any other questions?"
"No. The information on this list is more than enough," Ian said, holding the paper with a confident smile. It was easy to be confident when you already knew the answer.
"As long as you have a plan," Mills smiled back. "In addition, the Magister has arranged for men to assist you in your investigation. They are on their way to the manse now. You may wait for them here."
"Excellent."
"Sir Ian," Mills said, his tone shifting as he deliberately used Ian's formal title again. "Perhaps you should think again. Are you certain you have no other questions?"
*Other questions?* This time, Ian caught the unusual emphasis. This wasn't a routine inquiry; it was a prompt. A test.
He looked down at the list, his mind racing. *If I didn't know there was no mole, what would I need to ask before starting this investigation?*
The answer came to him in a flash.
"Steward Mills," Ian said, looking up. "Could you please provide me with more information regarding the party conflicts in Pentos?"
A flicker of surprise, quickly replaced by approval, crossed Mills's face. "You are sharper than I imagined, Sir Ian. You caught the essential point without needing me to spell it out." He paused.
"Magister Illyrio asked me to tell you that when observing any matter, you must look past the surface to see its essence. This business with the mole in the merchant guild is, in essence, merely one small piece of the broader Pentoshi power struggle. If you plunge into these murky waters without understanding the whole, you will not only fail, but you may very well place yourself in danger."
"I will remember that," Ian said, nodding with a flash of genuine sincerity.
Illyrio was teaching him. He could see that clearly. For a modern man whose knowledge of Machiavellian politics was entirely theoretical, the chance to learn from an old fox like Illyrio was invaluable.
"Pentos is currently divided into three rough factions," Mills began without further preamble. "The first is the trade magister faction, led by Magister Illyrio. We uphold the principles of peaceful commerce, hoping to maintain friendly relations with both Braavos and Volantis while opposing any sort of adventurism."
"There were originally four of us in this alliance. Though it was a loose arrangement, it was enough to control the city's direction. However…" Mills paused, his expression turning grim. "Two years ago, one of our allies, the Taglis family, met with misfortune. They lost seven of their ocean-going ships in as many seasons. They became insolvent, declared bankruptcy, and were forced from the Council of Magisters."
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