Janos Slynt was panicking.
As the former Commander of the City Watch, this short, sturdy man had lived exceedingly well over the years.
Ever since the now-deceased Hand of the King, Jon Arryn, had promoted him to Commander of the City Watch, his formerly honest, guileless image had undergone a complete transformation.
Extortion, bribery, selling offices and titles-if it made money, there was nothing Janos would not dare do!
Even on the eve of Arthas taking over his post, most of the officers in the Gold Cloaks still had to pay him tribute out of their own wages!
After Jon Arryn discovered this Commander of the Gold Cloaks' true colors, he had long since advised Robert to replace him, only for Robert to refuse in the strongest terms...
That was because most of the Gold Dragons he acquired illegally ended up in the royal coffers.
That was also what gave him the confidence to amass wealth so brazenly-the king himself had his back!
Janos had thought he could at least remain Commander of the Gold Cloaks until he died, or until Robert did.
But who could have imagined that some Lannister brat would defeat seven Kingsguard single-handedly and snatch away his lucrative post!
To that, Janos wanted to say only one thing:
"You Lannisters aren't short of money! Why fight me over these scraps?"
Still, it was all right. Though he could no longer rake in money openly, the wealth he had accumulated over the years was enough to let him live out the rest of his life in considerable comfort.
But who could have imagined that, just days after Robert left, this newly appointed blond brat would bring the Gold Cloaks and drag him out of bed!
"L-Lord Arthas..."
Knowing that the youth before him far surpassed him in family background, personal strength, and current status alike, Janos could only force out as ingratiating a smile as possible, hoping the other man would show mercy and let him off:
"What are you saying, my lord? In all my years as Commander of the City Watch, I've always worked diligently and served the public selflessly. Everyone has seen it."
"If you ask me, some malicious villain must have been sowing discord in front of you."
"Your eyes shine as brilliantly as the sun. I'm sure you'll see through the schemes of these sewer vermin, won't you?"
As Janos spoke, he kept clasping and rubbing his hands together. Clearly, although he appeared composed on the surface, he was panicking inside. After all, none of the things he had done could withstand any investigation.
No... there was not even any need to investigate. Arthas only had to wave a hand, and plenty of people would want him dead.
"Of course, Lord Janos."
Looking at the ugly, balding man with the frog-like face, Arthas wore a very gentle smile, but Frostmourne in his hand continued to radiate a piercing chill:
"Of course I believe you're a good commander who serves the public selflessly."
Hearing what seemed like an intention to let him off in Arthas's voice, Janos first breathed a sigh of relief, then felt an icy pressure surge straight to the crown of his head.
"But in the days since I took over as Commander of the Gold Cloaks, anonymous letters reporting you have come in without end. My office can barely hold them all."
"Ah..."
"Originally, I intended to suppress these anonymous reports."
Shaking his head as if in regret, Arthas clamped his large hand tightly around Janos's shoulder, squeezing with such tremendous strength that Janos nearly cried out in pain:
"But, Lord Janos."
"Do you know that in these few days since I took office-these mere few days..."
"More than thirteen hundred of our fellow Gold Cloaks have jointly reported your filthy conduct to me!"
At this, Janos was almost in despair, repeatedly casting pleading looks at Arthas.
But Arthas clearly had no intention of letting him off so easily. He shoved him hard, sending him to his knees. Seeing this, Lancel hurried forward, seized Janos's hands, and hauled him back up.
"Let's go, Commander."
Deciding not to drag this out any longer, Arthas rested Frostmourne on his shoulder and delivered his ultimatum in an icy voice:
"Take us to your mansion, and let us see those mountains of Gold Dragons!"
Meanwhile, the Gold Cloaks, who had turned out in almost their entirety and dispersed in all directions, gradually filled every artery of King's Landing like blood flowing from a heart.
A sweeping purge operation was getting underway.
Wherever the Gold Cloaks went, whether they encountered robbery, theft, or human trafficking, they arrested everyone involved without showing the slightest mercy!
For a time, panic gripped King's Landing. No one knew what had gotten into these Gold Cloaks, who normally did nothing but squeeze the common people. Almost everyone hid at home, afraid to come out for fear they would be next.
Inside the beast-fighting arena in Flea Bottom.
The spectators screamed and cheered wildly, their eyes bloodshot.
In the center of the arena, a burly man covered in bulging muscle was fighting a direwolf from the North head-on.
The direwolf was enormous and swift. Even with a longsword in hand, the man could not avoid receiving numerous horrifying wounds from the ferocious beast.
The bloody spectacle excited the spectators even more. They screamed themselves hoarse, some even throwing their wine bottles into the arena, as though watching one of their own battle a beast had stimulated every cell in their bodies.
The arena's owner, Eno Or, sat in the room that had once belonged to Yarn, his eyes closed as he savored the cheers outside.
After Yarn disappeared, Eno, as his deputy, had naturally become the owner of the place.
Swallowing the fruit the maid beside him fed him and firmly squeezing her round, pert buttocks with his large hand, Eno experienced a wonderful life unlike anything he had ever known.
Bang!
Just as everyone was immersed in excitement or delight, the arena doors were forced open. Gold Cloaks in standard-issue armor filed in, shattering the "harmonious" atmosphere.
"Oh, my dear lords of the Gold Cloaks."
Hearing the commotion, Eno hurried out and greeted their leader warmly.
Though he had never seen this blond fellow before, Eno hardly needed a brain to work out what these insatiable Gold Cloaks had come for.
With a warm smile in his eyes, Eno took Lorien by the arm and led him toward the room.
As the captain of this squad, Loryn Lannister was not as tall as his distant cousin Lancel, but his exceptional swordsmanship was enough to rank him among the Lannisters' elite knights.
Of the ten knights who had challenged Arthas, he had been fortunate enough to last until the third round before falling.
The moment he entered, Lorien's gaze was drawn to the burly man fighting the direwolf in the arena. But with official business to attend to, he could only have the others stand guard outside and allow Eno to lead him into the little room.
"My dear lord, judging by your hair, you must be from House Lannister?"
Once inside, the socially adept Eno pressed Lorien into a chair and patted the maid beside him on the backside, signaling her to hurry up and show what she could do.
"Lorien Lannister. You can also call me Lorien."
Sprawled in the chair, Lorien enjoyed the special services of the shapely maid without the slightest reservation.
The Gold Cloaks had not come to collect money since Yarn's death. Eno knew perfectly well that unless he satisfied these men, there was no hope of keeping his arena open.
With the maid's body shielding him from view, he turned to a corner and took out a chest full of Gold Dragons, then removed sixty-five coins with a pained expression.
Eno had counted carefully. There were sixty Gold Cloaks outside...
Somewhat reluctantly, he handed the bag of Gold Dragons to the visibly satisfied Lorien and leaned his aging face closer with an ingratiating look:
"My dear Lord Lorien, under the usual arrangement, it was one Gold Dragon for every two men."
"But to celebrate your new appointment, I've decided to offer sixty Gold Dragons and treat our Gold Cloak brothers to a good drinking session."
Then he patted the money pouch and cast Lorien a suggestive look:
"And I've added another five Gold Dragons for you personally, as a congratulatory gift!"
His words left no loose ends, and his handling of the whole affair was beyond reproach. Had this been the previous Gold Cloaks, they would probably have taken the money and left delighted.
But he had forgotten that the man before him was a Lannister.
Looking at his miserly manner, Lorien first shuddered for a while, then pushed the maid's head aside.
Then, under Eno's hopeful gaze, he hurled the bag full of Gold Dragons straight into his face:
"You fool! You actually think you can buy a Lannister with money?"
Having enjoyed his release, Lorien pulled up his trousers, his voice full of contempt for Eno.
He took a sheet of parchment from inside his clothes. Under Eno's startled, uncertain gaze, he seized the man's hand, cut it, and pressed it firmly onto the parchment.
Ignoring Eno's struggles of pain, Lorien spoke loudly:
"Eno Or."
"I, Loryn Lannister, captain of the City Watch Third Squad, hereby formally notify you."
"Whatever rules Janos or anyone else set for you in the past are null and void as of today."
"From now on, you need only follow the rules of Commander Arthas Lannister."
"You may continue operating the arena, and you may continue running the betting."
"But seventy percent of your monthly earnings will be handed over to the City Watch as the necessary funds to protect your business."
"Furthermore, no illegal activities such as theft, human trafficking, or unauthorized poppy sales will be permitted here, nor may you set up betting schemes to lure poor people in and swindle them."
"Otherwise, we will punish you in accordance with the laws of the kingdom."
Finishing this in one breath, Lorien bared his teeth and stared fiercely at the now somewhat trembling Eno, delivering one final warning:
"Believe me, you don't want to know the specifics of that punishment."
Briskly putting away the parchment, Lorien tossed his smooth blond hair and walked straight out of the little room.
Only when he reached the hall did he discover that, at some point, the burly man who had been fighting the direwolf had sat down at the edge of the arena to rest, panting heavily.
In the center of the arena, all that remained was a dead wolf whose belly had already been torn open.
"Hey, lad, what's your name?"
Walking over and crouching beside him, Lorien greeted him amiably.
"Don't call me lad! I'm already fifteen!"
The blood-faced man opened his eyes and answered with some displeasure:
"Gendry."
"My name is Gendry!"
Looking at this fellow who was built like an ox, Lorien smiled and extended his hand:
"Well then, Gendry."
"Would you like to join the City Watch?"
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