"Matthew, can't you let me go with you?"
Little Fish bit his lip, tasting salt, but asked stubbornly anyway.
Matthew shoved the child's head, pushing him down next to the corpses.
"Do it. Now."
Little Fish looked at the pale bodies, feeling a mix of rage and fear, but his stubbornness crushed everything else.
"Ahhh!"
Gripping the hatchet with one hand, he scrambled up and swung.
But the first swing missed.
Furious, he started swinging wildly like a madman until his strength gave out and he collapsed into the foul-smelling rainwater.
Matthew walked up to him, took the hatchet, wiped the rain from his face, and said simply:
"Watch closely."
Little Fish looked up, staring at him blankly.
A black shadow flashed by, too fast to see clearly.
Then, he heard a loud thud, like a clap of thunder.
But the sound didn't stop. It rang out fourteen times in succession.
[Slashing Proficiency +14]
Matthew looked at the mutilated corpses and spat out a mouthful of bloody rainwater in disgust.
"Get up. Help me dump the bodies, and then we'll check on your boat. From now on, you have to learn to survive on your own."
As he reached out to pull Little Fish up, seeing the boy's frail but obstinate face, he couldn't help but add:
"Following me is too dangerous. It doesn't suit you."
Little Fish took the large hand and stood up. This time he didn't cry, just kept his head down.
Matthew couldn't tell what he was thinking and didn't want to ask.
People who had just become orphans were all like this. At least Little Fish hadn't gone crazy, which was already a good thing.
He should give a child who was about to become independent enough space to think things through.
Glancing at the tightly closed tents and shacks around them, Matthew bent down disdainfully.
Grabbing a limb in each hand, Matthew walked toward the Blackwater Rush.
Little Fish followed suit.
Five meters from the pier, they stopped.
The river had already risen to this point. Three more steps forward meant plunging into the surging floodwaters.
Matthew tossed the limbs into the water and started looking for Little Fish's boat.
Most boats docked at the pier were larger vessels that could afford the mooring fees. Little Fish's small boat was usually pulled ashore.
But right now, he couldn't see anything.
"Which direction is your boat?"
Unable to find it, Matthew pulled Little Fish over and asked.
Little Fish remained silent, just pointing a finger.
Matthew looked in that direction. Just then, lightning flashed across the sky. By its light, he saw a small boat bobbing and rolling in the river.
He ran over, grabbed the boat's rope, and hauled it back.
Then, Matthew untied the rope and called out:
"Little Fish, hurry up and help."
The child was sullen and withdrawn, but he ran over.
Together, they pushed the boat to the door of the small shack and tied it down. By then, the heavy rain had begun to ease.
"Damn weather."
Matthew couldn't help cursing. He took off his robe, wrung the water out, and put it back on.
Little Fish walked silently to his father's body and suddenly spoke, his voice hoarse:
"Matthew, what should I do with my father's body?"
Matthew walked over expressionlessly, lifted the body with great strength—squeezing the boy uncomfortably in the process, though no one cared—and carried it back to the shack.
He tossed the body inside.
After closing the door, he said:
"Lock the door tight. Pretend you don't know anything. The Gold Cloaks and the Church will definitely come tomorrow. Leave everything to them."
Matthew looked at the hatchet.
In the end, he tucked the hatchet back into his belt, picked up one of the daggers from the ground, and tossed it inside.
Then, picking up the other two daggers, he hurried back to his own large tent.
His footsteps grew fainter, the sound fading into the reluctant wind and thunder.
---
Back at his own place, Matthew saw that Harlan had already returned.
Though surprised, he put on a show, throwing the two captured weapons onto the ground and cursing decisively:
"Damn rainy night. Brought all the beasts out. I almost got ambushed and killed."
Harlan and Newar saw the bloodstained weapons and nodded secretly, deciding not to pursue Matthew's fault.
Instead, Newar, licking his swollen lip, stood up with a smile. He walked over and asked with a hint of respect:
"Do you want to go to the docks and see if Stannis will really leave under the cover of night?"
Matthew had been wondering how to persuade them to go, so now that they brought it up themselves, of course, he was going.
However, he feigned annoyance, waving his hand and playing hard to get:
"Forget it. Water everywhere outside. Stinks like hell."
Saying this, he glanced at Newar.
Newar froze, immediately looking back at Harlan.
Matthew followed his gaze.
He wanted to see what game these Little Birds were playing.
Harlan stood up silently and said directly:
"You must go. No one here knows the docks better than you. If the Master wants to stop Stannis, we'll need your effort."
Matthew was overjoyed inside, but on the surface, he frowned, looking at Harlan with displeasure, and said coldly:
"I am the commander appointed by Lord Varys."
Harlan raised his head, asking indifferently:
"So you intend to be absent from Lord Varys's operation?"
Immediately, six people drew short knives, staring at him intently.
Seeing this, Newar clapped his hands.
Another six people drew their daggers.
Matthew scanned the room and laughed in anger.
"Are you trying to force me to go?"
Harlan remained silent.
The tent was exceptionally quiet, but a storm was brewing.
Seeing Harlan wouldn't back down, Matthew dropped the act and said helplessly:
"Fine, I agree. But once we leave this tent, you have to listen to me."
Harlan nodded but added:
"You must also bring all the members of your squad."
Matthew had no objection and agreed immediately.
Then, Newar led six people out the door with him.
But before leaving, Newar went to the small shack next door and brought out another six people.
With these six added, Newar's squad was complete.
Matthew glanced at them and walked off alone.
Newar hurried to catch up.
Matthew's men were usually scattered throughout the Fishmarket, sometimes hard to find at the base.
But with the rain tonight, no one wanted to run around outside.
Fourteen people walked a circuit through the north, south, east, and west of the Fishmarket, successfully growing to twenty-six people. They hid behind a row of shacks to the rear-left of the docks.
The ground was covered in water, so the twenty-odd people had to stand and wait.
Matthew wasn't willing to suffer with them. He gave a wave and went to the back to find a place to sit.
Newar wanted to follow, but Matthew only wandered within their line of sight.
After watching for a while, the Mud Gate suddenly opened.
A group of people carrying torches rushed out.
The Gold Cloaks behind were still shouting, but they couldn't stop them. Finally, amidst the roaring, the gates closed.
Newar's attention was instantly drawn to them.
A moment later, seeing the people approaching, he turned to call Matthew over to look, only to find the man gone.
Newar was just about to lead his men to search.
But suddenly, someone appeared out of nowhere, spotting them and running over urgently.
The figure was small and thin—likely a child or a dwarf—wearing a long robe that covered their face, making them unrecognizable.
Newar instantly gripped his dagger.
If it wasn't one of their own, they had to be eliminated.
But when the person was five steps away, they said:
"Lord Varys says there is no need to stop Stannis from leaving."
With that, the person left directly, chasing after Stannis's group.
Newar stared at the group moving further away, released his grip, and sighed in relief.
He immediately turned around, instructing the people around him with a serious face:
"Listen up. Find Matthew. Find out where he went."