The Mountain of Ice and Fire

Chapter 68: Littlefinger

King's Landing, the capital of the Seven Kingdoms.

King's Landing has three things in abundance.

First, brothels.

Petyr Baelish, Master of Coin and a member of the Small Council, owns the most brothels in the city. His brothels are divided into two tiers: the highest tier caters to royalty, nobles, the Hand of the King, and the King himself; the second tier caters to knights and lords.

The city is built upon three hills, crisscrossed with streets and houses. Wherever there is a bustling street, there is one of Littlefinger's brothels.

Second, people.

King's Landing has a permanent population of over half a million. Coupled with the fact that it boasts the second largest port on the continent and is the central hub of the Seven Kingdoms, serving as the core for national culture, politics, and trade, King's Landing attracts the largest influx of transient people in the Seven Kingdoms.

Third, garbage. Garbage is everywhere in the streets, the stench permeates the air, causing disgust. It is famous throughout the Seven Kingdoms, so King's Landing has another name: Trash City.

Even outside the city walls, you can smell the stench from within.

The mountains of garbage in the city are mainly concentrated in Flea Bottom, south of the Iron Gate and Dragonpit hill. Flea Bottom is where the poor of King's Landing gather. North of Flea Bottom, across the hill, is King's Landing's famous Oldtown, also the wealthy district. Merchants from various countries, high-ranking officials of King's Landing, nobles, and wealthy people all own their private villas in Oldtown, north of Flea Bottom.

Littlefinger Petyr has three of his highest-end brothels located in the wealthy district.

Every night, Littlefinger sits in his largest brothel in the wealthy district, auditing the accounts. Managers from brothels all over the city bring the previous day's earnings and account books to this brothel at a scheduled time for Petyr Baelish to review.

This rule of submitting the previous day's accounts has been in place for two years.

To describe Littlefinger's income as 'making a fortune every day' is no exaggeration.

Petyr is not tall, but not short either; of average height and slender build, which makes him look capable and shrewd. He has handsome features, and a signature mischievous smile often plays on his lips, as if he is mocking the shallowness of the entire world. He has gray-green eyes, a small black beard on his chin, and some gray hair mixed in with his dark hair.

Littlefinger is very particular about etiquette and noble manners. He is always dressed impeccably, with a mockingbird pin representing the Baelish family crest clipped to a noble and exquisite robe that highlights his status. The robe is always pinned diagonally on the right side of his body, making him look like a true nobleman.

It was time to collect money and review the account books again. The madam from Mud Gate, the farthest away, always arrived the earliest and was Littlefinger Petyr's most appreciated assistant.

As the madam slipped in through the brothel's small back door, Littlefinger's pale green eyes widened, and his voice became slightly hurried: "Where's my money?" This was the first thing Littlefinger asked.

The madam's lips were broken, several teeth were knocked out, she was covered in blood, her eyes were black and blue, the right side of her face was swollen high, and the shiny silk clothes on her body were torn to shreds, revealing the red undergarment inside.

"Lord," the madam hurried over, fell to her knees at Littlefinger's feet with a thud, reached out and hugged Littlefinger's leg, "Lord, the money was robbed, and I was humiliated. You must notify the City Watch and arrest those hooligans." The more the madam spoke, the more agitated she became, and she began to cry out in a drawn-out voice.

"Shut up!" Littlefinger squatted down, restoring his elegant and capable demeanor. He smiled and said softly, "Listen, I have distinguished guests from across the Narrow Sea here. If you disturb even one of my guests, I will cut out your tongue and throw you into the lower brothels of Flea Bottom, ensuring that twenty foul-smelling men visit you every day."

The madam immediately shut up, her tears and voice disappearing together.

"Who did it?"

"A knight who calls himself Polliver Clegane." The madam miraculously forgot the humiliation and pain, her words were clear, and her reaction was quick, but she couldn't hide the fear in her eyes. "Lord, that guy is a monster. He said he would gouge out my eyeballs tomorrow and soak them in a wine jar to make an artwork. He said he liked my eyeballs, Lord."

Littlefinger Petyr naturally knew in his heart that the Clegane surname was not to be trifled with.

"What else did he say?"

"He also said that if the Lord doesn't approve their matter tomorrow, he will..." The madam didn't dare to continue, because what the knight named Polliver said was very unpleasant and revealed a very terrible evil. "Lord, that guy doesn't look like a normal person."

"Anyone with the Clegane surname won't be a normal person. Speak quickly, what exactly did he say?" Littlefinger smiled gently, with impeccable manners.

But the madam shuddered.

It was as if an invisible knife was pointed at her heart.

"Lord, he said, he said, if the Lord doesn't give them the best ore grade, the highest price, and the most lenient delivery time, he will cut off the Lord's... thing... and stuff it into the Lord's mouth. And he will also set fire to all the Lord's brothels."

Littlefinger had already learned from his subordinate officials that this group of people had come empty-handed, without bringing any ore samples, but wanted the ore officials to set the highest ore standard for the ore they had not yet delivered. Without bringing the terrain map and ore estimation volume of Goldengrove, they wanted the officials of the Mint to set a minimum and maximum standard of ore submission per month.

In short, they provided nothing, but wanted the highest grade, the most expensive price, and an unreasonable high limit for ore submission.

In Littlefinger's experience, this group of people would definitely not be able to deliver the quota in the end, and they would definitely put stones under the gold ore, just like the Serrett family of Silverhill in the Westerlands had done before.

"Did he say where they were staying?"

"He said, they are staying at the Inn of the Kneeling Man on the Iron Street, the inn on the highest hill, next to the blacksmith shop of the master armorer Tobho Mott. Their lord, Gregor Clegane, is waiting for you for one night. After tonight, they will come here to find you."

"Good. I understand. Go, you don't need to compensate for the money you lost." Petyr gently patted the madam's swollen face. "Go back and work hard. I guarantee they won't harass you again. Don't worry, your eyeballs won't be soaked in the wine jar."

"Yes, Lord!" The madam's body trembled slightly.

*

Knock knock!

Knock knock knock!

Someone knocked on the door very politely.

The door was pulled open, and a guy with a mouth full of alcohol breath glared fiercely: "Who are you looking for?"

Littlefinger Petyr Baelish smiled and said elegantly, "I am looking for Lord Gregor Clegane."

"Oh!" The other party turned around and left, the dagger and short knife hanging on his waist clanging, "Follow me!"

Littlefinger Petyr Baelish walked into the gate, facing the booming sound of drinking, guessing, and ordering.

A bunch of bastards with no rules or manners.

Littlefinger followed the soldier in front of him and turned to the second floor. The entire inn was empty. Except for one place where people were making loud noises, there was no movement elsewhere.

After all, the Mountain, the number one villain in the Seven Kingdoms, after he moved into this inn, everyone else could only get out.

*

"Ser Gregor," Littlefinger stood calmly in front of Gregor, "Now that you've come to King's Landing, you didn't even send someone to notify me, so I could arrange a few virgins from Lys for you to relieve your fire and kill your itch. Are you and your brothers used to staying here? If you don't like it here, I'll cover all the accommodation, banquets, and women. You and your brothers must have a good time."

Gregor looked at the legendary Littlefinger Petyr Baelish without saying a word, just glaring at him.

Littlefinger didn't change his expression or his heartbeat. He was an unparalleled master in terms of conspiracy and trickery. Of course, what drove him to use his intelligence to the fullest was his even greater ambition.