This world was too magical.
When Jaime Lannister saw the scene inside the cell, he felt the cognition built over his nearly thirty years of life collapsing inch by inch.
He had envisioned countless possibilities...
For example, Corleone being tortured bloody and dying, or even the worst outcome; Jaime was mentally prepared.
But the scene before him completely exceeded his imagination.
Although the cell was simple, it was fairly clean. But that wasn't important. What was important was that in the center of the cell stood a wooden table brought from who knows where.
Vito Corleone, whom he had been worrying about, was sitting leisurely behind the table. A tablecloth was spread, and on it sat a sizzling grilled steak.
On his right hand, there was even a glass of wine shimmering with deep red luster!
And Corleone was using a small knife to slowly send the steak into his mouth, his movements elegant and unhurried.
What was even more astounding was that two guards in gold cloaks were waiting beside him like attentive servants, bowing with smiles piled on their faces, holding a plate with several fresh berries!
"My Lord, is this wine to your taste?"
"This is the Summer Red from Dorne I secretly hid!"
Corleone slowly wiped the corner of his mouth with a napkin and nodded slightly: "Not bad. Thanks for your trouble, Moss."
In another corner of the cell, a young noble whom Jaime found somewhat familiar was curled up, with cold meat and wine messily placed on the ground in front of him. He was staring at them eagerly with a livid face.
Seeing this, Jaime couldn't help but glare back at Humfrey, as if saying: You fucking tell me this is a prisoner!
If one didn't know better, they'd think this was the office of the Commander of the Gold Cloaks!
Humfrey just smiled awkwardly at this; after all, he couldn't explain the current situation either.
Just then, Corleone seemed to notice the movement at the door.
Looking up, his gaze fell directly on Jaime. There was no surprise in his eyes; instead, he raised his wine glass towards him from afar, revealing an elegant smile.
As if he had long expected his arrival.
"Oho~ Ser Jaime."
Corleone's voice was calm as always, even carrying a hint of teasing: "Seems you caught dinner time. Care to join me?"
"Although the environment here is a bit simple, the steak is cooked just right. They specially caught... found a cook to pan-fry it for me in the Gold Cloaks' kitchen."
Looking at this guy who could turn oppression into enjoyment and guards into servants even in the deepest dungeon, Jaime didn't know what expression to show for a moment.
All anxiety, anger, and worry dissipated, leaving only a feeling of sheer absurdity.
I'm so silly, really...
Jaime's mouth twitched constantly. Taking a deep breath, he stepped into the cell.
"What the fuck is going on? Do you know how worried I was!"
After hesitating for a moment, he ultimately couldn't hold back from cursing.
"Huh?"
Hearing this, Corleone raised an eyebrow.
Looking at Jaime's puffy face, he slowly put down his knife and fork.
"Let me introduce you. This is Old Moss. He is about to win back the money he lost from the casino."
"This is Pock, a young man troubled by love. With my encouragement, he will confess to his beloved girl tomorrow. When the time comes, you and I will have to attend their wedding as witnesses."
"Oh right..."
Saying this, Corleone didn't forget to point to the sucker in the corner.
"That is Herb Rykker. I think you should know him. He... owes me a favor."
Seeing Corleone introduce everyone familiarly and even booking him for a wedding, Jaime was even more dumbfounded.
However, he roughly guessed what happened here.
"Corleone..." Remembering the journey from the Riverlands back to King's Landing, Jaime sighed with complex emotion: "You really don't mistreat yourself wherever you go."
Looking at the amused and annoyed Jaime, Corleone just shrugged indifferently.
He picked up the bottle of deep red wine on the table, filled another glass by his hand, and handed it to Jaime.
Yes, he had asked Old Moss to prepare two wine glasses in advance, as if he knew long ago that Jaime would definitely come.
"Old Moss says this is Summer Red from Dorne." Corleone's tone was flat, like commenting on the weather: "I don't know much about wines, but I think, as a Lannister, Lord Tywin's eldest son should be much more familiar than me."
The deep red liquid was pushed in front of him. Jaime rolled his eyes grumpily.
Almost out of spite, he snatched the wine glass, threw his head back, and drained the contents in one gulp, his action as rude as drinking cheap ale.
After all, having rushed all the way, he was indeed a bit thirsty. Not to mention, this delicate flavor, expensive to others, was just the most ordinary drink to Jaime.
This waste of good wine made Old Moss's eyes twitch twice, feeling somewhat pained.
"Oh~~~~ Seven Gods above, Jaime, you run... too fast..."
Just then, a panting voice came from the door: "Don't you know... to consider my two... ha... precious but limited-length legs?"
Tyrion Lannister held onto the door frame, gasping for air. Finally recovering, he looked up into the cell, his eyes widening instantly.
His brother was drinking with a prisoner in a filthy cell, with Gold Cloak guards bowing like servants beside them?
Wait... weren't we here to save someone?
Just this?
"What the fuck... is going on?"
But before Tyrion could speak, Ser Addam, following closely behind him, arrived and immediately asked what was on his mind.
His gaze swept over the fawning Old Moss and the other guard, then looked at the conspicuous steak and red wine, finally landing on Corleone.
"I think I need an explanation, Jaime."
Hearing this, Jaime awkwardly put down the wine glass: "This... this is another long story, Addam."
Seeing his old friend's face looking a bit off, he quickly cleared his throat and changed the subject: "Allow me to introduce. That is my brother Tyrion, and beside him is Ser Addam Marbrand, Commander of the City Watch."
Saying this, he turned his arm towards Corleone: "And this..."
"Vito Corleone."
Corleone raised his glass towards Addam and Tyrion from afar: "Pleasure to meet you, Ser Addam. I have to say your subordinates are very polite."
"Under the leadership of an excellent knight like you, the City Watch must be achieving great things."
He said this extremely naturally, as if he were the host here welcoming guests and casually praising the capability of the other's servants.
That posture, that tone, didn't look like a prisoner at all, but clearly a superior inspecting work!
The muscles on Ser Addam's cheek twitched. Exchanging glances with Tyrion beside him, the two didn't know how to speak for a moment.
The bizarre scene before them filled their heads with question marks, yet they didn't know where to start asking.
"Reminiscing can pause for now, Corleone."
Seeing this, Jaime took a deep breath, forcibly pulling the topic back on track, his expression becoming serious again: "Although I know you may have been treated unfairly, we'll deal with matters here another day."
"Because my father wants to see you, now."
Hearing the Hand of the King wanted to see him, Corleone showed no surprise on his face, as if the appointed meeting time had just arrived.
Under everyone's gaze, he stood up leisurely, his movements unhurried.
However, Corleone didn't leave directly but turned to the confused and shocked youth in the corner.
"Lord Rykker."
Corleone's voice wasn't loud but carried convincing weight: "Please remember, you owe me a favor."
"Maybe one day, I will ask you to repay this favor. Of course, that day may never come, but before it does, please keep it in mind."
His wording was very polite, even showing considerable respect, but the undeniable sense of control revealed in his tone made the shocked Rykker nod involuntarily.
Then, Corleone turned to Old Moss, his expression relaxing a bit: "Oh~~~ Moss, remember the method I taught you, win back your money."
"Of course, if you want to have some fun in the future, you can come to Flea Bottom, my casino. I guarantee you, in my territory, fairness is the only rule."
"Everyone can bet with ease, no need to worry about liars sitting across the table."
His attitude towards these low-level guards was no different from his attitude towards Rykker and the others, perhaps even more easy-going and sincere.
In Corleone's eyes, people didn't seem to have absolute high or low status, only the difference between "possibly useful" and "useful later."
So, he valued every favor that seemed insignificant to big shots.
Maybe a seed planted unintentionally now would grow into a towering tree in the future.
But at this moment, Old Moss was completely stunned. He opened his mouth wide, exclaiming incoherently: "Lord... Lord Corleone, you really know the Lannisters, and are even going to see the Hand!"
Facing his shock, Corleone didn't answer, just responding with a smile, as if saying: I told you so.
When Corleone stepped forward, the moment he was about to cross the threshold of the cell, Old Moss woke up from his dream and hurriedly asked: "Lord Corleone, where is... your casino?"
Corleone's steps paused at the door. Without looking back, he calmly uttered two words: "Blood Cellar."
"Blood Cellar?" Old Moss almost thought he heard wrong: "But that's Raff's territory!"
Hearing this sentence, Corleone finally turned his head slowly.
The flickering firelight in the dungeon corridor shone on his profile, casting half of his face in shadow.
There was no ripple in his pitch-black eyes, only the absolute certainty of victory.
"Tomorrow."
"It won't be."
If you're enjoying these stories, consider leaving a comment, review, or vote.
You can also visit the Pat** on at: CaveLeather
GOT Hedge Knight Don Quixote
GOT: King of Harrenhal— Garth Greenhand Stat Panel
GOT Stardew Valley
GOT Pirate King
Marvel Inventor
GOT True Dragon
GOT Farmer King
GOT White Wolf
GOT Godfather of Westeros
GOT True King
GOT Black Dragon Revenge
GOT Unleashing the Fourth Scourge
GOT Slayer System
GOT: I Am Aemon Targaryen
GOTJon Snow Grind System
GOT King Bastard
GOT Iron Throne