Essos.
Centuries ago, after the Freehold Empire that enslaved this continent fell, the former vassals and slaves of Valyria established numerous prosperous Free Cities.
Meanwhile, across the Narrow Sea, the Targaryen family—the Dragon Kings who survived the fall of the Freehold Empire—rose to power. Aegon the Conqueror, riding his dragons, along with his sister-wives Queen Visenya and Queen Rhaenys, defeated the Seven Kingdoms.
This brought unity to Westeros.
The reckoning of years began with Aegon's coronation, known as Aegon's First Year, or 1 AC. Awed by the power of the dragons, the Free Cities also began to use the Conquest calendar for their dating.
A century passed in the blink of an eye, and the fourth king of the Targaryen dynasty—Jaehaerys I Targaryen, the Conciliator—was also nearing the end of his reign.
...
In 101 AC, a long summer scorched Volantis, and combined with the salty sea breeze, made the air here thick and suffocating.
Rhaemon Targaryen—the bastard son of Saenira, daughter of the King of the Seven Kingdoms of Westeros. As for why he bore the Targaryen surname? Only Saenira knew the answer.
"Fifteen years, and that door still hasn't moved. If it weren't for the fact that I can store things within a hundred meters around it… I'd start to wonder if this was all an illusion," Rhaemon tried to communicate with his golden finger once more.
Fifteen years ago, he was sent to this world by the Heavenly Dao, reincarnated as an infant. Through his surname, his eccentric mother's name in this life, and the name of this city, Rhaemon understood his situation.
Over the years, he had encountered many troubles: oppression from ruffians, ostracism from his half-siblings, harassment from drunken patrons, and so on.
However, he also gained some things. As a successor from a family of traditional Chinese medicine practitioners… although in his previous life, when he was still called Zhao Lin, he chose archaeology as his major, he basically knew everything he was supposed to. Getting rid of one or two scumbags… and the world became much quieter.
Using his memories from his previous life, he partnered with the brothel owner to earn his first pot of gold… then "invented" cane sugar, earning another fortune. He then used this to gain the protection of the Elephant Party, successfully securing a foothold in Volantis.
Currently, what he needed to pay attention to were… those legendary gods, magic, and such. And also… the future civil war of the dragons across the Narrow Sea—the Dance of the Dragons.
Rhaemon wasn't actually too concerned about these things, because he knew the plot direction of this world. As long as he planned properly… the danger wasn't as great as he imagined.
His greatest current reliance was his Targaryen bloodline. Once he obtained a dragon, he would ascend to the peak of this world.
Rhaemon, having just finished his shift at the docks, walked through the streets of Volantis, contemplating his next plans.
Just then, a dirty little beggar passed by Rhaemon and secretly handed him a small parchment scroll.
As a transmigrator, if he couldn't establish his own private forces after more than a decade… wouldn't that be a wasted transmigration?
At the age of 12, Rhaemon began to integrate and buy out all the beggars and some servants who worked for the rich in Volantis. They were of humble origin, but precisely because of this, no one paid attention to them, and thus an intelligence organization serving Rhaemon was born.
Initially, Rhaemon intended to expand it to Westeros to keep abreast of plot developments. Later, he began selling the intelligence he collected and used it to secretly control the underworld of Volantis.
He named this organization "Shadow"—like a shadow, ubiquitous.
In three years, through various stratagems of alliance-building and division, Rhaemon had completely established himself and amassed considerable wealth. He also rescued hundreds of slaves and secretly trained the able-bodied among them into soldiers, but he never exposed himself. To outsiders, he remained a lucky bastard.
All of Volantis knew there was an intelligence organization called "Shadow" that could acquire any information, but they could never find its exact headquarters. One could only trade with them using specific methods. As for controlling this organization… the last person who tried found his beloved horse's head on his pillow the next morning.
"These two factions… are they finally going to fight again?" Rhaemon looked at the contents on the parchment. A new round of conflict between the Tiger Party and the Elephant Party was about to begin.
"Good, I should set off too. If the trip to Valyria yields nothing… then I'll try across the Narrow Sea. Acknowledging my relatives, it's not shameful!"
Rhaemon arrived at a whale oil shop under his name. The shop manager followed closely behind him to the backyard.
"Notify Hali, arrange a shipment in the next few days, take the Smoked Sea Route 5," Rhaemon instructed.
"Yes, my lord!"
"Also, keep a close eye on the movements of those two factions. Report any changes immediately."
"Yes!"
"The training of the Shadow Guards…"
...
Leaving the whale oil shop, Rhaemon came to Silk Street and entered "The Red Sail." Inside, the staff and customers, dressed in various costumes, began to cheer.
"The Prince has arrived!!"
"Long live the Brothel Prince!!"
"When are you going to give up your first time?!"
"Enough!! Are you all so idle? Get out of here!" the brothel madam roared fiercely, chasing away the gathered crowd.
Rhaemon glanced at her. "No need to be so fierce, they didn't mean any harm…"
"I'm afraid you might mean harm to them."
"What are you saying? Someone as friendly and kind as me, how could I possibly harm them?"
"Heh heh… that spice merchant, his lower half is like dead, even his asshole has no sensation… I really don't know how you did it," the madam rolled her eyes at Rhaemon, speechless.
"He brought it upon himself. I only took his flowery words as a joke, but he… actually… in short, he sought his own demise, so you can't blame me for being ruthless."
"Forget it, I'm too lazy to argue with you. What do you want this time?"
"Can't I just come to see you when there's nothing wrong? After all, you're half a senior to me… By the way, how's the role-playing project going? Is business good?"
"Very good. You're truly a born pimp, to think of such things… you really are her…" The madam stopped herself in time, not finishing her sentence.
"What pimp? This is called a man's true colors! Also… you don't need to avoid Saenira. I truly don't care about these things. Being a bastard or whatever, it has no effect on me."
"Sigh! She actually… forget it, it's your mother-son affair, I have no standing to interfere," the madam sighed.
"I know, isn't it just a power struggle? Those people's attempts to test the royal authority… she became a sacrifice, and I… am the product of her self-abandonment," Rhaemon said indifferently.