"Good evening, dear Lord Earl."
Corleone finally spoke.
The voice was not high, even calm, like a the Doctor asking about the patient's symptoms.
"Normally, I don't drink alcohol before surgery because alcohol affects the stability of my hand."
He raised his left hand.
At this time, Gales discovered that Corleone was actually holding an exquisite glass wine glass in his hand, which was filled with dark red liquid.
Not far away, a trickle slowly dripped from the faucet of an oak barrel. He was very familiar with it. It was the Reach Sweet Red Wine that he had treasured for twenty years.
From Highgarden, the best years, the best fruit.
"But today is an exception." Corleone raised the wine glass in front of his eyes and observed the wine hanging on the wall through the firelight. His behavior was even more elegant than Earl himself.
"After all, I don't have to worry about the patient's chances of survival today."
"Woo... Woo!!!"
Gales Earl struggled with all his strength, and the legs of the chair scraped against the stone ground with a screeching sound.
But it was completely useless. His mouth was tightly blocked and he could only let out a dull whimper.
Corleone didn't look at him at all. He just took a sip of the wine, savored it for a moment, and nodded.
"Good wine."
"The fruity aroma is still there, with a hint of oak and...Maiden breast aroma in the aftertaste?"
"I have to say that you are very good at choosing wine, Master Earl."
He praised with narrowed eyes, then put down his wine glass, took two steps forward, and stopped only an arm's length away from Gales.
The light of the torch cast from behind, stretching the shadow, completely covering the trembling old Earl.
"Usually, rough kidnappers will cut out people's tongues, but that doesn't stop them from screaming."
Corleone leaned over, looked directly into Gales' frightened eyes, and explained to him very patiently, "But that is actually very inefficient. There are rich blood vessels at the base of the tongue, and it will splash everywhere."
"And people who have their tongues cut out can still scream like wind. To be honest, the sound... is really ugly."
His tone was extremely calm, but it was this attitude, as if he was explaining human anatomy, that made Gales even more frightened and his whole body could not stop trembling.
However, Corleone's explanation was not over yet. He stretched out his right index finger and tapped it lightly in the air. "So I used a more efficient method."
"Use a soaked linen cloth and slide it completely along the surface of the tongue into the pharynx, applying just enough pressure to the vocal cords."
As he spoke, he used his fingers to mark the position of his throat.
"Like this, the vocal cords cannot vibrate normally, just like... pressing the air hole of the flute."
As he continued to speak, Gales's struggle became weaker and weaker.
It was not that he gave up, but that he realized that the person in front of him was no ordinary kidnapper or assassin. He forced himself to calm down and stared at Corleone, as if asking.
"Very good."
Seeing this, Corleone nodded with satisfaction, took out a roll of parchment from his arms, and slowly unfolded it in front of Gales: "Now we can talk about business."
Gales looked at the parchment, which glowed softly yellow in the firelight.
The handwriting is neat, written in the standard the Seven Kingdoms common language, and the format is very familiar.
"In the name of the Seven Gods, I, Gyles Rosby, Earl of Rosby City and the lords of this place, hereby make my final will...
Will!!!
After reciting the beginning silently in his mind, Gales immediately widened his eyes again.
He raised his head and looked at Corleone in disbelief, only to see that the other person just put a finger up to his mouth.
"Shh~
"Be patient, my dear lord, and read it all."
This tone was gentle as if to comfort his lover. Gales's chest rose and fell violently several times before he calmed down and looked at the suicide note again.
"Looking back on my long life, I realize that wealth and power are tests given by the Seven Gods."
"My distant relative, Swen Rossby, committed a crime that kept me awake at night. I deeply feel that the family has an obligation to atone for it...
"Therefore, I have decided to bequeath the city of Rosby and all its dependent territories to my faithful cousin and in-law, Mrs. Tanda Stokeworth Earl."
"May she rule this land more justly...
"At the same time, half of the existing Gold Dragon in the family's treasury, about fourteen thousand pieces, will be donated to Black Hand Poor Relief Foundation in Flea Bottom in King's Landing."
"This is to atone for the soul of Swen, and also to repent for my failure to restrain my relatives early...
"I beg the Seven Gods to forgive my sins. May Mother be merciful, Father be just, Warrior grant courage to my successors, the old woman grant them wisdom, the blacksmith bless the territory's prosperity, and Maiden protect the purity of the people...
3
After reading the last word in the will, Gales Earl almost stopped breathing completely.
His eyes widened to the limit, staring at the words on the parchment, and then, as if he had been scalded by boiling water, he began to struggle wildly.
It's a pity that he is not a dead pig.
Rosby town handed over to the Stokeworths?
Fourteen thousand Gold Dragon donated to Black Hand Poor Relief Foundation?
What the hell kind of organization is this!
"It will be established soon."
Seemingly seeing the question in Gales' mind, Corleone answered him promptly, but there was a hint of ridicule in his tone.
"I asked Rorge. Although I don't know why, when I was young, I was addicted to gambling, drinking,
Gyles Rossby Earl, who visited prostitutes and was keen on using First Night, will now become such a devout believer in the Seven Gods."
"But it's not a bad will, isn't it?"
Gales raised his head and saw Corleone smiling confidently, "I drafted it myself. Come on, copy it over, and we can call it a day."
"Woo!! Woo!!!"
As soon as he said these words, Gales struggled violently again, and the whimpering in his throat became sharp and shrill, like the cry of an animal dying.
There was fear and anger in his eyes, and he stared at Corleone, as if he wanted to tear this guy who had unilaterally sentenced him to death to pieces with his eyes.
However, at this moment, Corleone unexpectedly reached out and pulled out the linen from Gales' mouth.
"Rickard!!"
"Herbert!!!"
"Guards! Where the hell are you!!!"
In an instant, Gales's voice echoed in the cellar, "Here comes someone!! There is an assassin! The Seven Gods curse you!!!"
Corleone just looked at him quietly without stopping him, and even took half a step back to give him enough space to shout.
Gales shouted for two full minutes without any response.
Perhaps because of tiredness or poor health, Gales finally stopped. His chest kept rising and falling, and he only felt a burning pain in his throat.
But he still stared at Corleone fiercely, his eyes full of fierceness.
"I have to say, this is a really nice place."
However, Corleone was not afraid at all. There was even a hint of smile in his tone as he looked around, "Almost completely closed stone structure, with walls up to three feet thick."
"Perfect sound insulation, perfect temperature and humidity control, very suitable for storing fine wine."
"It's just that the air circulation is poor, carbon dioxide is easy to accumulate, and the oxygen content is low. If you stay there for a long time, you will feel dizzy and weak. In severe cases, you may even become comatose."
"But don't worry, sir, I opened the door in advance to let the wind pass."
"So... just scream, there's no point in breaking your throat."
"When they discover you are missing, start searching the castle, and find this place, it will be at least tomorrow morning.
Gales couldn't understand this series of professional terms at all, but he could see the confident look on the other side. It was obvious that quality control was in place when building this wine cellar.
"What do you want?"
Gales took a deep breath and forced himself to calm down and deal with the other party. "I have money, lots and lots of money, and I can give you a title...
"You still don't understand what I mean."
Unfortunately, this inducement had no effect and was directly interrupted by Corleone.
He came closer, and the firelight illuminated half of his face, while the other half was immersed in shadow, like a devil's whisper trembling in his ears, "Don't worry, we have a whole night, Master Earl."
Looking at the incompetent guy in front of him, Gales' lips trembled. He wanted to shout louder, but his sore throat prevented him from doing so.
In the end, he could only threaten hoarsely. "You will go to hell... the seven gods will punish you... ahem... even Mother will not forgive you!"
He spoke slowly, but every word was filled with deep-seated hatred.
Hearing this, Corleone tilted his head. "Interesting."
He straightened up, looked at Gales, and said pointedly, "I have investigated you, Mr. Earl"
O
"Before the war broke out, you went to Sept no more than three times a year, your donation amount... was zero, you had at least seventeen mistresses, and countless illegitimate children."
"Moreover, you are a very stingy person. The tax officer often complains that you always want to pay less King's tax."
"But now, you are like an extremely fanatical and devout believer."
Saying that, Corleone took a step forward, [Dignity Iv3] unfolded, giving Gales an endless sense of oppression, and asked, "What changed you, sir?"
"Did Swen's death scare you, or... have you come into contact with certain people and things recently?"
However, in the face of Corleone's questioning, Gales turned a deaf ear and kept repeating as if he was possessed by a demon. "Your soul... will be burned by fire in the seven hells forever, and you will never be redeemed for eternity!"
"You will be in hell forever..
Seeing this, Corleone knew that it was impossible to pry the thing out of this old guy's mouth without some means.
"We're all in hell, Gyles Rossby."
He put the parchment aside, elegantly adjusted the rolled up cuffs, and said softly, "It's just that some people lie on silk sheets and drink wine, thinking that they are still in the world."
"Hell?"
"It's just going home."
The cellar fell into dead silence.
Gales, who was originally possessed by a man, suddenly raised his head, looked at the man in front of him, and suddenly realized something terrible.
He... seems fearless!
How should we threaten and negotiate with such a person?
"Now."
Corleone picked up the roll of sheepskin again and waved it in front of it. "Please copy it, sir, and write your name and yesterday's date on the signature place."
"Of course, you can choose to refuse."
Before Gales could answer, Corleone took out an item from the tool bag he carried with him.
That's a pair of pliers.
"Do you know... how many nerve nodes are there in the human body that can cause severe pain but not fatality?"
"It doesn't matter, I'll teach you."
With that said, Corleone squatted down so that his eyes were level with Gales.
The tip of the surgical forceps hovered gently in the air only an inch away from the little finger of Gales' left hand.
"Please tell me, Gales Earl...
"What is 1000 minus 3?"
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