With the mechanical prompt, a colorful interface panel shoved itself right into Jon's face.
> Name: Jon Snow
> Gender: Male
> Age: 16
> Strength: 1.3 (Bonus to damage and carry weight)
> Constitution: 1.3 (Related to stamina and agility)
> Spirit: 2 (Magic is everything)
> Title: Eddard's Bastard (False)
> Mission: Winter is Coming. Please rewrite everything known and face a magnificent destiny!
> Reward: System Activated. Dispensing...
> Note: The reference value for an average adult male in Westeros is 1.
Seeing his true stats, Jon felt speechless.
Even though he trained as a knight year-round without breaks, his overall strength was barely above average. He couldn't even beat some mutated commoners!
Perhaps sensing Jon's desire, or maybe just lagging, the floating panel continued to flash even after Jon snapped out of his daze.
[Activation mission complete. Dispensing System Reward...]
[Please wait...]
[Please wait...]
[Okay, the Intelligent Assistant has finished planning for you. Initiating "One-Click Auto-Pilot" mode. The Host will temporarily lose control of the body. Please make effective use of your AFK time.]
Jon: "?"
Just as he hesitated, he watched "his own body" suddenly stand up.
In the next moment, he involuntarily strode toward the upper levels of the castle.
Jon: "!?"
"Wait, when the hell did I select 'Intelligent Auto-Pilot'? Don't do this..."
But before Jon could finish screaming internally, his entire being was moving on its own.
Although it was nearing evening, the castle's Great Hall was still teeming with servants. To welcome the King, the place had been converted into a banquet hall, and it was loud and chaotic.
Even though his body couldn't react, Jon's consciousness remained perfectly clear.
Right now, he was marching straight toward the Tower, aiming directly for Lord Eddard's solar.
Even though he had a room in the castle, it was in the lower quarters. He wasn't supposed to be up here.
Thinking of the recent rumors, and then of Lady Catelyn's temper, Jon really didn't want to cause any trouble.
"System! Stop! Stop right now! I'm not allowed to be here!"
Despite the countless thoughts flashing through his mind, no matter how much the transmigrator screamed inside, the System didn't stop. In fact, his steps became even lighter and faster.
Then, the transmigrator helplessly watched himself walk up to a door, and then...
Start eavesdropping!
Seeing that he hadn't barged straight in, Jon's heart rate settled slightly. Then he heard the voices coming from inside:
"My Lord, my Lady, Jon Arryn has passed. The King arrives tomorrow, bringing the Prince and the entire court. I believe you understand what this means..."
The voice was old, calm, and indifferent. It was Maester Luwin of Winterfell.
"Ned! For the sake of the children, think of your father and brother! You must not set foot in King's Landing!"
Catelyn's voice was hoarse and sharp, a mix of rage and helplessness.
"Cat, Robert is the King of the Seven Kingdoms... Let us discuss the reception arrangements for tomorrow first."
The deep, humble reply was just like always, carrying a hint of apology. It was the Lord of Winterfell, Eddard Stark.
Hearing this, Jon naturally remembered the timeline.
Soon, after the King came and left, the Game of Thrones would officially begin.
When that happened, everyone would be swept up and played like pawns by fate.
As for himself...
His feet started moving again, continuing toward the top of the tower.
Then, he pushed open the door at the very top of the tower and barged straight into a spacious, cluttered, and quiet rookery.
Bathed in the dim glow of the setting sun, dozens of ravens huddled in cages by the window. The room was filled with jars and parchment, permeating with the smell of herbs and ink.
This was Maester Luwin's study and quarters.
Jon had always been polite to this gentle old man.
If for nothing else, he just wanted effective treatment when he got sick, rather than being force-fed Milk of the Poppy.
Now, seeing himself break into the Maester's room, Jon felt both anxious and relieved.
As long as this rogue System didn't do anything suicidal, he might have a chance to explain himself.
Besides, Maester Luwin wasn't a harsh man. Everything would be fine.
But before Jon could finish psyching himself up, he realized "his" hand was already reaching for his waist, drawing a dagger.
Then, he watched helplessly as his two hands, deft as a master thief, picked the lock on Maester Luwin's chest.
[Detected that the Host's constitution is extremely poor. Dispensing tailored rewards.]
[Maester Luwin's Mysterious Potion +1...]
[Maester Luwin's Mysterious Potion +1...]
[Maester Luwin's Mysterious Potion +1...]
Watching the messages pop up on the panel, Jon felt his brain short-circuit. He couldn't believe the so-called "reward" was just looting other people's stuff?!
Although Jon had prepared a script to explain his presence, his current actions were indefensible no matter what he said.
Moreover, he knew better than anyone that these so-called "Mysterious Potions" were not something he should ever covet.
As a qualified Snow, being observant was the foundation of his survival in Winterfell.
Since he could remember, Jon had seen this stuff more than once.
Maester Luwin only brewed a bottle of this potion every six months.
Afterward, it would disappear into the depths of the castle.
One-third was for drinking, one-third for topical application, and the last third was dissolved in bathwater for a medicinal soak.
And the only person qualified to enjoy this precious reagent was naturally the future Lord of Winterfell—Robb!
This continued until last year, when Robb turned sixteen, and it finally stopped.
Given the setting of this world of Ice and Fire, Jon didn't need to think hard to guess that this potion was likely a masterpiece of alchemy.
As for its effect, there was probably only one: to strengthen the body of the future Lord.
Thinking about the supernatural entities and magic in this world, Jon couldn't help but feel a little anticipation.
Although he talked about slacking off, it was really just the safest path he chose after living two lives.
If he had infinite lives to burn, where failure didn't matter, he naturally wouldn't give up the thrill of riding a dragon.
But reality was, even with a second life, caution was etched into his soul, making him subconsciously reject adventure.
Perhaps picking up on Jon's desire, the System's auto-pilot didn't disengage. Instead, it gave another "Ding!"
[Auto-Pilot continuing. Now initiating Intelligent Rise and Grind...]
As the mechanical voice faded, Jon watched himself uncork the bottles one by one and bring them to his lips.
Gulp, gulp, gulp!
With three bottles downed in one go, Jon felt his entire body instantly catch fire. Even his hair stood on end.