Wheel of Order.
It is the third large-scale industry opened by Corleone in the core area of Flea Bottom. It relies on House of Order and Ring of Order to form an industrial chain of comparable size.
If House of Order represents the core of Flea Bottom and gives civilians hope of survival, and Ring of Order can give civilians the opportunity to change their destiny with their fists, then Wheel of Order is designed to make those who have a few spare cash willingly take it out.
In layman's terms, this is a casino.
However, the decoration style of this casino is completely different from the dark and humid underground gambling cellars in King's Landing that are full of the smell of sweat and inferior Ale.
When designing Corleone, he drew on the concepts of the top casinos he had seen in his previous life. The tall Dome was painted with complex colorful murals, depicting seven famous gambling games and legendary stories in the Seven Kingdoms's history.
The walls are inlaid with polished wooden boards, and there is a bronze oil lamp every few steps. The lampshade has been carefully polished to make the light bright but not dazzling.
There are dozens of huge gaming tables in the center of the hall. The edges of the gaming tables are covered with brass and the table tops are covered with green velvet. They are currently crowded with people.
Some people shouted for blessing from the Seven Gods, some cursed in despair after losing more than ten games in a row, some people slapped the last Copper Penny on the table with red eyes, and some people had their winning Gold Dragon placed in front of them, hugging the free escort girl provided by the casino and laughing from ear to ear.
In the deepest part of the hall, near the fireplace, there is a slightly smaller gaming table.
This table plays the simplest game, guessing dice.
This is also the most mindless game. Usually only two types of people will sit here - novices who enter the casino for the first time, and people who have lost so much that they don't want to use their brains anymore.
Tyrion Lannister is clearly the latter.
The chips in front of him are piled up like a hill, but if you look closely, you will find that most of the "hill" is gray chips representing one Silver Stag, occasionally mixed with a dozen yellow chips representing one Gold Dragon, and there is not a single red chip representing ten Gold Dragon.
"Open! Three, four, five! Twelve o'clock!"
The dealer's voice sounded, and the onlookers made sounds of excitement or annoyance.
Only Tyrion didn't even look at the result, he just pushed out all the chips in front of him again.
"Go on, buy a small one."
His voice was muffled and he seemed to have something in his mouth.
Because he had already drank three bottles of Golden Wine produced by Arbor tonight, which is one of the most expensive wines in the casino. One bottle costs three Gold Dragon.
For Tyrion, the Bacchus of Casterly Rock, three bottles of wine was nothing in the past, but he has been in a bad mood recently.
Even the waiters could tell that they would subconsciously move slower when passing by him.
They have seen too many customers like this.
Generally speaking, this kind of people will cause trouble after losing all their money and then be thrown out.
It's just that Mr. Corleone once personally said, "I will give him whatever he wants, and the account will be on my head."
So no one dares to persuade Tyrion.
"My lord, your bargaining chip."
The waiter came over with a tray and placed a new pile of chips in front of Tyrion.
This pile consists of one hundred yellow chips, ten red chips, and one black chip representing one hundred Gold Dragon.
Added up, it's another three hundred Gold Dragon.
For such a large sum of money, Tyrion didn't even look at the pile of chips. He just raised his hand and waved, signaling to the waiter that he could leave.
The waiter, as if he had been granted amnesty, hurried away with the empty tray.
Tyrion picked up the wine glass and took a long sip.
The wine flowed down from the corner of his mouth and wet his collar, but fortunately he was not wearing any expensive robe, nor was it printed with the exclusive lion emblem of the Lannister family.
"Open! Three six leopards, kill them all!"
The dealer's voice sounded again, causing a chorus of curses.
The chips in front of Tyrion were reduced by one-third, but he just showed no expression and pushed out again.
"Do you know how long the handful you just lost can last an average family in Flea Bottom?"
At this moment, a voice sounded in his ear, which seemed a bit lazy and mocking.
Tyrion recognized who it was, but didn't even bother to turn around.
"Thirty years."
The voice continued, "If they know how to live and live frugally, they may be able to survive longer. This time is enough to raise a newborn baby, marry a wife and have children, and then watch him give birth to his own children."
"And you, in just one glass of wine, lost decades of other people's lives."
"What are you doing here?" Tyrion finally said.
"Come and see if you drunkard is dead."
A figure calmly sat down on the seat next to Tyrion and mocked again. "If you die, I will drag your body back to the Red Keep and see if Lord Tywin is willing to pay me some hard work."
"After all, he is his biological son, so he must be worth something."
Hearing this, Tyrion finally turned his head and glanced at the man.
Bronn was sitting next to him with his legs crossed, with the same smile on his face.
This upstart who is now prosperous in King's Landing is wearing an extremely gorgeous coat and his hands are covered with gemstone rings. His whole person exudes the aura of "I have money but I don't know how to spend it" from top to bottom.
"Get out of here, you bastard." Tyrion cursed in a low voice, and then looked at the gambling table again.
This time he finally won, one hundred Gold Dragon.
"Look, I've brought you good luck!"
Bronn waved with a smile, and a waiter immediately trotted over.
Then, he pointed to the wine bottle in Tyrion's hand and said unceremoniously, "Give me a bottle too and put it on his account!"
The waiter was stunned for a moment and looked at Tyrion.
Tyrion rolled his eyes at him, said nothing, and pushed the winning money onto the gambling table together with most of the chips in front of him.
After the purchase was made, the dealer began to shake the dice, and the dice made a crisp collision sound in the bamboo tube, like some kind of strange music.
"I said, what's the matter with you?"
Seeing how depressed he was, Bronn's voice became a little more serious. "Although the Tyrion Lannister I know is a dwarf, he has a very good mind."
"He never makes a loss-making business, let alone throws money into the water."
"This is not called throwing into the water." Tyrion took a sip of wine and muttered, "This is called... enjoying life."
"Enjoy life?"
Bronn laughed, "Fuck you!"
The waiter came back with the wine, respectfully placed the bottle in front of Bronn, and thoughtfully paired it with a crystal wine glass.
Bronn picked up the bottle and looked at it for a long time, smelled it again, and then took a big gulp directly to the mouth of the bottle.
"Ha! Good wine!"
He pouted. "But it's still not as good as the inferior Ale by the Blackwater River. That stuff is really powerful. One bottle will keep you drunk for three days!"
"You know nothing!" Tyrion curled his lips disdainfully.
Bronn didn't reply, but just took another sip of wine, and then pursed his lips to the side. "Do you know what I just saw on that table over there?"
"A salted fish seller made seven correct bets in a row and won fifty Gold Dragon."
"Fifty Gold Dragon! That's enough for him to sell salted fish for ten years! The guy was so excited that he knelt down and kissed the dealer's boots!"
"Then what?"
"Then he wanted to fight for the last time." Bronn shrugged. "Now he is squatting at the door crying."
Hearing this, Tyrion said nothing. After all, he didn't pay attention to the victory or defeat of Fifty Gold Dragon, and he was not in the mood to sympathize with other people's experiences.
He was already troubled enough.
"What about you?" Bronn looked at him and winked. "How much money did you lose today?"
Tyrion was silent for a few seconds, then pointed at the pile of chips on the table.
Bronn glanced at it, then whistled.
"Five hundred? Eight hundred?"
"One thousand."
As soon as these words came out, Bronn's eyes widened. "A thousand Gold Dragon? Hahahaha!!"
He burst into laughter, the laughter was so loud that several gamblers around him turned their heads to look in this direction, and his laughter became more and more unbridled, and even tears almost flowed from the corners of his eyes.
"Do you fucking know how much this is? These Gold Dragon are enough for you to have a hundred beautiful girls on Silk Street perform exciting shows for you for a whole month!"
"That's enough!" Seeing this, Tyrion interrupted him sharply.
Bo Jiang finally stopped laughing, wiped his eyes and looked at him, his tone became serious. "So, what the hell is going on with you, Tyrion Lannister?"
"I would rather you have fun in a brothel all day long than see you looking as decadent as a wild dog on the street."
Hearing this, Tyrion lowered his head and was silent for a moment, then picked up the wine glass and took a big sip.
"Where the hell could I go!"
After drinking, Tyrion finally started talking, as if talking to himself or confiding to Bronn: "These days, when I open my eyes every morning, the first thing I do is to report to the fucking Gold Cloaks Headquarters!"
"I feel sick looking at that bastard Humphry Waters's face, but I have to wait for him to sign on my record, saying that Lord Tyrion Lannister has reported for duty today and is not suspected of escaping for the time being."
"Then I can move around freely."
"Free activities."
He repeated the word with a mocking arc on his lips, "Do you fucking know what free movement is?"
"You can't take a boat, ride a horse out of the city, or get close to any ship that might take you away. You can only walk around the city walls, like a dog in a cage!"
"You can go back to the Red Keep." Bronn said abruptly.
"Red Fort?"
Hearing this, Tyrion smiled disdainfully, his laughter full of ridicule. "My dear sister, every time she sees me, the hatred in her eyes can burn me to ashes."
"She wanted to strangle me with her own hands and tear my throat out with her nails. If my father hadn't lived there and if there weren't a few gold robes guarding me, she would have sent her knights in white robes to take my life."
As he spoke, he took a deep breath and pointed around.
"Only here do I feel safe, Bronn. No matter how much Cersei hates me, she would not dare to send people here to cause trouble."
"So I can only stay here, among these gamblers and bottles of wine. This is the only place I can stay."
As Tyrion spoke, his voice became lower and lower, until finally it was almost inaudible.
Bronn sat aside and looked at him, rarely saying anything sarcastic.
The silence lasted for several seconds.
Then Bronn spoke, with his unique frivolity and ridicule in his voice. "Listening to what you said, I suddenly feel that I am not so miserable."
Hearing this, Tyrion raised his head and looked at him in confusion.
Bronn leaned on the back of the chair, crossed his legs, and complained carelessly, "My mentally retarded wife, do you know what she did yesterday?"
"She took a stuffed animal and sat in the garden chatting with it all afternoon!"
Hearing this, the corners of Tyrion's mouth twitched, and he wanted to laugh but held back.
"And her sister Falyse!"
Bronn ignored his reaction and continued, "That bitch has been so radiant lately, walking with a wind in her eyes, and appearing at various noble banquets every night!"
"I asked Balman what was going on, and he said that Falyse has been taking a strange health-preserving secret recipe recently. It is said that it was passed down from Braavos. Drinking it can make people ten years younger."
He paused and his tone was full of ridicule. "Ten years younger!"
"If that bitch were ten years younger, she could probably kick me out of Stoke Worth!"
As he said that, Bronn spread his hands. "I shouldn't have agreed to your sister Queen Mother's deal in the first place. This was obviously a loss-making deal!"
"My sister and brother-in-law are getting better and better, and there are no signs of sudden death."
"If this trend continues, maybe they will still be alive when I die of old age!"
Tyrion finally couldn't hold it back and laughed.
"You're laughing your ass off!"
Seeing this, Bronn mocked. "I'm waiting for them to die. Aren't you also waiting for your crazy sister to die? We are the same as each other, we are both bastards who hope that our relatives will die soon!"
"Hahaha!" He said without hesitation, and Tyrion couldn't help laughing.
"That makes sense!"
After laughing for a while, Tyrion suddenly raised the wine glass and gestured to Bronn: "To our relatives."
Without saying a word, Bronn raised the bottle and touched it with him.
"May they go see Stranger soon."
"See Stranger!"
The two looked at each other and smiled, then each took a big sip.
Putting down the wine glass, Tyrion looked at the remaining chips on the table and said on a whim, "Hey! Since you're here, I'll treat you to a gamble!"
"What?"
"Stop talking nonsense and take a gamble!"
Before Bronn could react, Tyrion raised his hand and waved. "Give me another thousand Gold Dragon chips!"
Hearing this, the waiter swallowed in embarrassment and said with difficulty, "Sir, you... your signing quota has been used up."
Hearing this, Tyrion was stunned.
"What?"
"Your signing amount."
The waiter repeated it bravely, "Master Corleone has told me that you can sign orders here, up to five thousand Gold Dragon at most."
"In the past few days, up to the time you just signed, you have signed five thousand."
As soon as these words came out, the alcohol took over, and Tyrion's face suddenly turned ugly.
"I gave him a fucking 40,000 Gold Dragon!"
"Forty thousand Gold Dragon! Now if I play a few games in his casino, he only gives me a limit of 5,000!"
His voice became louder and louder, and several gamblers around him turned their heads to look over.
The waiter's forehead began to sweat.
"Come on, Tyrion."
Seeing that the people in charge of security had begun to gather around him, Bronn patted him on the shoulder. "I don't like gambling."
"Why?" Tyrion raised his eyebrows. "Afraid of losing?"
"It's not that I'm afraid of losing."
Bronn picked up a chip and looked at the light. "This thing is too uncertain. If you put it in, it may become two, or it may become zero."
"I am a person who prefers things that are sure to be obtained, such as killing people. The price is clearly marked and I get a certain amount of money for each vote. It is clear."
Hearing this, Tyrion sneered and wanted to persist, but Bronn had already pushed back the chips, stood up, and clapped his hands. "Let's go, don't waste time here, let's go to a good place."
"Where?"
"Silk Street."
Bronn blinked. "I heard that there are some new Reese girls who are very skilled. I'll treat them to you."
Tyrion's eyes lit up, but he hesitated. "Flea Bottom is not close to Silk Street. Is it safe on the road? I heard from Humphry that many children seem to have disappeared in King's Landing recently?"
"Are you a child?"
Hearing this, Bronn first sneered, then slapped his chest. "Don't worry, Uncle Bronn is here!"
After saying that, he supported Tyrion and the two of them staggered out.
When walking through the hall, everyone around them subconsciously gave way to them. After all, there was a drunk Tyrion and a hired knight with "Don't mess with me" written all over his face. This combination was the only one among Wheel of Order that had a scorpion shit.
After exiting the casino gate, the streets outside were still brightly lit.
This is Corleone's rule. There must be a street light every fifty steps on the streets of Flea Bottom.
Although it is not as bright as the candles in the Red Keep, for the residents of Flea Bottom who have lived in darkness all their lives, this is already a miracle.
It was almost late at night, but there were still vendors setting up stalls on the streets, and Community Wardens in gray uniforms patrolled the crowd to maintain order.
Tyrion looked at all this, sighed suddenly, and turned to look at the casino behind him.
The building was brightly lit, with people coming and going at the door, and it was very lively.
"If I had known that guy Corleone could be so prosperous, I should have invested in some shares."
"Even if you just invest a hundred Gold Dragon, it can be doubled dozens of times now, right?"
Listening to his sigh, Bronn also echoed thoughtfully, "Who the hell knows."
The two of them continued walking forward.
After walking for a while, Tyrion suddenly stopped.
"Wait."
"What's wrong?"
"I need to pee."
"Here?" Bronn looked around.
They were standing at the entrance of an alley. The alley was very narrow, only one person wide, with high walls on both sides. It was pitch black inside and it was hard to see how deep it was.
"What if?"
Tyrion said confidently, "I can't pee in my pants, can I?"
"But you are not allowed to defecate in the flea nest."
Bronn said seriously, "This is Corleone's rule. If you are caught by those Coordinators, I can't save you."
Hearing this, Tyrion rolled his eyes at him and gave Bronn a middle finger. "Fuck Corleone."
After saying that, he turned around and walked into the alley.
Bronn had no choice but to lean against the wall at the entrance of the alley and wait. After a while, the sound of water flowing from the alley came.
Immediately afterwards, Tyrion's voice came from the alley. "Tell me, where did this guy Corleone come from?"
Bronn didn't answer.
Tyrion seemed to be drunk, and kept saying to himself, "His Medicine is so superb, and his swordsmanship is so good that he can defeat the first knight of the valley."
"Moreover, it's a miracle that that guy can become a popular figure in King's Landing in such a short period of time, and even replace me as Minister of Finance."
"He is too strange, too strange to be from this world..."
As if he didn't get an answer from Bronn, Tyrion's voice became smaller and smaller, until he couldn't hear it at last.
The sound of water flow also stopped, but Tyrion did not come out immediately.
Bronn waited for a few seconds and shouted impatiently, "Hey! Are you ready?"
No response.
Bronn frowned and shouted again, "Tyrion!"
But still no response.
Bronn's expression suddenly changed, and he hurriedly walked into the alley. The alley was very dark, but Bronn's eyes quickly adapted to the darkness.
There is nothing, the whole alley is empty!
Only a few chips were quietly scattered beside a puddle of water on the ground.