Game of Thrones: I Created the Magic Web

Chapter 131 Two Wars

War, ah.

Looking at the chaotic scene on the screen in front of him, Hot Pie sighed silently.

The people of King's Landing had not yet seen Renly's soldiers and swords, but they had already suffered from the torment of war, breathing the heavy atmosphere of war at all times.

Hot Pie felt it even more deeply.

In recent days, more and more people had fled into King's Landing from the south of the Kingswood.

The vast majority of them had nothing, and could only sell their labor or bodies, gladly accepting any meager job, even being grateful for it.

The people who had originally sympathized with them quickly changed their attitude.

It was because the refugees lowered their prices and worked hard without complaint that the bosses who hired workers began to be picky, and their faces became more and more ugly when settling wages, and the price of hiring workers became lower day by day.

Everyone's life gradually became more difficult and harder.

Not to mention beggars and orphans.

Hot Pie had even returned to the bakery where he used to work hard all day to visit.

The familiar heat and the smell of bread.

The table was full of white, yellow, and brown flour.

Everyone's face and hands were covered with flour, and the cloth and leather worn on their bodies were not spared either. The flour had already penetrated every pore, and felt smooth and rough to the touch.

Hot Pie subconsciously wiped his hands on his clothes, but his palms touched the familiar leather armor.

A familiar baker's apprentice approached slowly, casting a hesitant look, his lips moving but not opening, as if he dared not confirm who he was seeing.

Hot Pie knew that he had lost weight and changed.

So he took the lead in giving a hug, jokingly cursing a few times, and the apprentices gathered around to talk.

Good friends complained incessantly about the old baker's harshness, saying that the bread oven was working day and night, and the money earned could not be counted, but the old thing not only did not give everyone copper coins, but also cut back on food, only giving two black breads a day.

Saying that everyone baked countless breads and pies, and also had to run errands to deliver meals, but they were always hungry all day long, barely filling their stomachs.

Saying that since the refugees entered the city, the old thing had been meticulous about every handful of flour, let alone the baked bread. Anyone who wanted to hide half a loaf of bread would be beaten severely, or even kicked out of the bakery.

Saying that there were fewer and fewer lemons, blueberries, and meat fillings in the bakery, and every kind of bread was getting more and more expensive, and the customers would scold them severely.

Hot Pie listened attentively, occasionally echoing a few times, while calmly observing each person's face.

While cursing, his friends cast eager and expectant eyes at him, and more apprentices with ordinary relationships crowded around, laughing and making noise, seemingly just to slack off and find some fun.

Some of the guys who used to oppose him were either hiding in a corner doing some work.

Or they stood indifferently somewhere, deaf and unresponsive, but their eyes glanced at the lively scene here again and again.

Or they quietly slipped out of the room to the old baker's side.

There were also some unfamiliar faces.

Hot Pie had already gotten the information, knowing that these were all newly recruited apprentices, mostly refugees from the south, who had lower requirements and were satisfied with the two black breads a day.

But these new apprentices were not just randomly found people.

Hot Pie personally heard an apprentice who had been working for several years admit that these new apprentices' skills were no worse than his, or even better.

The new apprentices said that they used to work in bakeries before, and if they had not been looted by the rebels, and all the fields and houses had been burned down, they would still be selling bread in their hometown now.

At this time, everyone cursed together the ungrateful, man-fucking Renly who started the rebellion.

No one likes war.

Hot Pie sincerely echoed, while feeling fortunate for his choice a month ago.

Hot Pie knew very well that if he had not impulsively joined the army at that time, he would probably be one of these apprentices now, living a hard life and racking his brains just to fill his stomach.

Or maybe not even as good.

The unluckiest apprentice had already been kicked out, who knows what he is living on now?

The apprentices suddenly dispersed.

Hot Pie turned around and saw the gloomy face that he used to fear so much, the old baker.

But the anger and ruthlessness on that face disappeared almost instantly, and before Hot Pie could see it clearly, it immediately turned into an amiable and somewhat ingratiating smile.

Hot Pie knew that the old baker would only show this expression when facing distinguished guests.

Hot Pie also knew that this was because of the hard leather armor, chain mail, helmet, whip, and long sword on his body, because of the crossed swords badge worn on his right arm, the symbol of the Department of the Army.

Repeated strict blockades and investigations had made this symbol known throughout the city, and also understood its power and rights.

I didn't expect this badge to play some role on the last day.

Hot Pie sighed silently.

The Department of the Army's badge would soon no longer belong to him.

Starting tomorrow, he would wear the more terrifying "All-Seeing Eye" badge of the Security Bureau under Minister Ellin Lantel of the Department of Security.

This was also the only reason why he had time to wander around the city today.

Fortunately, he had received a notice that he was free from the recruit training of the military camp from now on, and would officially report to the Security Bureau with the other ninety-nine people tomorrow.

The other nine hundred newcomers to the Security Bureau would have to continue to be tortured by the instructors until the Security Bureau took them away.

That is to say, he was in the top one hundred of the thousand people.

In addition to being excited, Hot Pie couldn't help but wonder why he was chosen. Good mission performance? No private possession of property? Normal attendance? Kept up with the training?

Gendry said, you've been much quieter lately.

Hot Pie suddenly woke up.

Yes, when did I become like this?

He didn't have a clear answer.

Perhaps it was because of a certain look he saw during the investigation, a certain sentence he heard, or the smell of blood he smelled.

Perhaps it was because of the growing understanding of the Security Bureau.

Perhaps it was because of a golden dragon, a badge, the cold light of swords, or the magic of dragon crystals.

Perhaps it was because of the divine grace light curtain bestowed upon him.

Looking at the dreamlike light curtain, and then looking at the bakery he was in, Hot Pie was so clearly aware of the world-like difference between the two.

The past ten years or so were so gray and vague, not much worth remembering.

In comparison, how huge was the impact of this short month on him, completely turning him into another person, a person who was enough to be respected by the old baker.

Hot Pie calmed down his agitated mood and earnestly advised his friends to respond to any recruitment orders from the Iron Throne as soon as possible, which could not only practice the divine will and royal orders, but also be the best way out for individuals.

Then, he stepped out of the bakery door and moved forward without looking back, towards a bright future, towards the Security Bureau.

Now.

He was sitting in the surveillance hall of the Security Bureau, peeking at the big shots and chaotic bloodshed he had never been exposed to from the screen, safely, steadily, and excitingly.

War, ah.

The screen directly in front of Hot Pie showed the Hand of the King's squad and the stubborn commoners.

This was a war.

The screen on the side was the Mud Gate by the Blackwater Rush, with ragged clothes and thin faces. Refugees lined up in a line that could not be seen to the end, receiving the registration and inspection of the gold cloaks.

This was also a war.

Hot Pie's task was to watch quietly, record everything, and report any anomalies, anything.

"Look!"

"There's movement at the Bronzegate!"

In the eager shouts, Hot Pie turned his head to look. The main screen in the center of the hall showed the gate of the Bronzegate.

Countless cavalry of the crowned stag banner were pouring into the castle.

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