Ser Ilyn Payne had just impatiently pulled off his blood-spattered hood when a crossbow bolt flew out of nowhere and pierced his face.
Simultaneously, several players revealed the hand crossbows they had been concealing and unleashed a volley at the "target group" that hadn't yet walked far.
Kingsguard Knight Ser Meryn Trant took a bolt straight to the throat. He fell backward, dead on the spot.
Kingsguard Knight Ser Mandon Moore took a bolt through his face. He fell backward, dead on the spot.
Amidst the screaming of the crowd, several jars of Wildfire were hurled by the players into the "target group."
Three courtiers and two noble ladies were instantly turned into human torches. Sandor Clegane, "The Hound," who was supposed to be guarding Prince Joffrey, backed away in terror, his face twisted with fear—looking even more panicked than his nominal master, Joffrey.
King Robert's roar of fury nearly shattered the sky. The former Demon of the Trident, the Warrior incarnate, was now forced into the role of a helpless husband by players whose eyes glowed green with greed.
Ser Barristan Selmy, Lord Commander of the Kingsguard, protected his King with unwavering duty. Even in this sudden ambush, the fearless knight was confident he could keep his King safe.
Under Ser Jaime Lannister's orders, a group of Red Cloaks formed a human shield, completely hiding Robert from view.
In the chaos, Ser Barristan even stripped off the King's opulent cloak and removed his crown, draping him in a simple Red Cloak to blend in.
This move drove the players, who had lost sight of their primary target, completely mad. Realizing their golden opportunity was slipping away, they threw caution to the wind. Wildfire jars, which they had bought at exorbitant prices, were tossed like cheap Molotov cocktails.
Countless Red Cloaks and Gold Cloaks were reduced to black ash by the raging green fire.
A few players who had managed to score some kills calmed down and quickly vanished into the panicked crowd.
This left seven or eight of their comrades behind, still attacking indiscriminately in a frenzy.
Watching the chaos unfold, Iron-Pumping Superman was reminded of the description of Li Kui in The Water Margin:
"He hacked away, caring not whether they were soldiers or civilians..."
Moon-Fang had already cut the livestream. After all, what those frustrated players were doing looked bad. They had nothing to lose, so when they snapped, they just went on a rampage to vent.
But he was a big streamer now. He had to care about keeping his content "wholesome and green."
"Let's go. Those guys are too impulsive. I bet they didn't even agree on how to split the loot beforehand. Wasted such a perfect setup just to kill three or four small fry," Iron-Pumping Superman said, arms crossed, watching as two enraged players suicide-bombed a group of Gold Cloaks, leaving the rest with no chance to make waves.
"Fuck! This run is bricked! You two, get out of here! I'll cover you!"
A red-eyed player, relying on the Intermediate Swordsmanship skill he had spent a fortune on, single-handedly held off four Gold Cloaks to cover the retreat of his two companions, shouting loudly.
The two companions didn't waste words. They turned and ran.
Staying to kill a few more Gold Cloaks was meaningless now.
As the player covering the rear was stabbed down by the increasing number of Gold Cloaks, he cursed and respawned back at the initial spawn point.
---
After watching the anti-climactic assassination attempt, Moon-Fang and Iron-Pumping Superman quickly left the scene.
They wouldn't be returning to Pentos anytime soon. They planned to lay low in King's Landing for a while and see if any other opportunities to cause trouble popped up.
Many of the players who escaped into the crowd had come up empty-handed after all their effort. Most were unwilling to give up and went into hiding, waiting for the next chance to strike.
Some players, following Moon-Fang's recorded stream, found the secret passage and tried to sneak into the Red Keep, only to find the entrance already sealed.
A few players who succeeded in their hits chose to return to Pentos, while others bought new gear and prepared to leave King's Landing to open up new maps.
However, a significant number of players still lurked in the harbor of King's Landing. Not all of them were after Robert's head; some were agents from the Secret Police Intelligence Station, and others were players with whimsical, chaotic ideas.
There were even some plotting to use Wildfire and gunpowder to blow the Red Keep sky-high.
It could be said that dark currents were surging beneath King's Landing. If King Robert and his Hand, Eddard Stark, thought the Gold Cloaks could easily clean up these players hiding in the shadows, they were in for a challenging time.
---
However, Eddard soon shifted his attention away from the assassins who had crossed the sea.
In Tobho Mott's armory, Eddard met Gendry.
The lad was tall and muscled thick—a good apprentice, well-suited to the smith's life.
Gendry was about the same age as Robb. Eddard felt a pang of longing for his family back in Winterfell.
The boy had blue eyes and thick black hair. He looked more like Robert's son than Joffrey ever did.
Eddard didn't say much. After exchanging a few words with Gendry, he turned and left the smithy. A thought had already formed in his mind.
But there were still a few people he needed to see to confirm his suspicions once and for all.
Shortly after Eddard left, a young man munching on a fruit slipped out of the smithy and followed him.
---
Flea Bottom. The famous "scenic spot" of King's Landing.
In a hidden fighting pit, a burly, bald man hissed strangely, revealing a mouthful of filed, sharp teeth. He was pinning down a struggling dog. The dog whimpered, its four legs kicking uselessly.
At a table not far from the pit, Moon-Fang looked away. Beside him, his inseparable partner, Iron-Pumping Superman, was slurping meat soup.
Sitting across from them was a massive brute of a man—hunched, noseless, and covered in black hair like a great ape.
Behind the brute stood seven or eight men, each with a knife or short sword at their waist.
The brute's name was Rorge. He ran this fighting pit and was considered a big shot in Flea Bottom. But right now, he looked grave, staring at these two uninvited "guests" as if facing a formidable enemy.
"Well? Have you thought it over?"
Iron-Pumping Superman finally finished his soup, wiping his mouth with a piece of bread as he looked at the brute.
Rorge swallowed hard. Just yesterday, he had personally stabbed a knife into the neck of this guy who had brazenly demanded his submission. He could still remember the smell of the blood.
But... but today, the damn guy was sitting right in front of him, alive and well!
"What do you want?!" Rorge hissed, his voice low.
"I told you. My brother and I are going to be staying in King's Landing for a while. We don't have any men. So, you and your boys are going to work for us. Stick with us, and we'll make it worth your while," Iron-Pumping Superman said slowly, enunciating every word.
"You!" One of the thugs behind Rorge couldn't take the arrogance. He reached for the knife at his waist, intending to teach this guy a lesson.
"Eh. Pull that knife and you die," Moon-Fang said, glancing sideways at the thug with a lazy stare.