Game of Thrones: From a deserter to a high-ranking official

Chapter 30 Cultural Offensive

After hearing Vito's "little story," Tiberius did not show any fear or turn pale, but rather accepted it quite calmly.

"The foundation of keeping promises is making it impossible for anyone who breaks them to pay the price. If that can't be done, my uncle could never have been the leader of the White Army."

"Now it seems that Governor Lisanzhuo's accountant only skimmed the edge a little, instead of trying to fool us with semi-solid gold coins. He probably remembered what happened to that family back then. It's a kind of... tacit 'rule'. They took what they were entitled to, but didn't dare to go too far or cross the line. Otherwise, without us having to do anything, Lord Lisanzhuo would have thrown them into the sea."

"As for the Hein family... to them, she's just a second daughter, not as valuable as the beloved eldest daughter of Lisandro, Serafis. I reckon my uncle just turned a blind eye to the fact that they gave her the semi-solid gold coins and small gold coins."

He picked up a small, dark gold coin from the Hein family, clearly tainted with copper, and twirled it between his fingers. "After all," he said, "they also gave us a dye workshop—small, but still a hen that lays eggs, and in the long run, it might be worth more than this gold coin. They also threw in several thousand bolts of cotton cloth and a thousand silver rings. Although the workmanship and quality of those rings..." He paused, a complicated expression on his face.

"It's really putting us in a tough spot, like clearing out the warehouse stock... tsk, the quality is inconsistent, and the processing is quite haphazard. It's probably mostly made by apprentices..."

Vito looked at Tiberius with some surprise, then grinned, a smile carrying an air of approval and "you're teachable" in his eyes. "Kid! Looks like you were born for this mercenary life! Your mind is as clear as a mirror, but your heart is as hard as stone! You members of the Mode family are truly cut from the same cloth—ruthless!"

Upon hearing Vito's words, Tiberius's facial muscles twitched almost imperceptibly, as if he wanted to refute something, but in the end he just pursed his lips and did not respond to the topic of family traits.

"But!" Tippi raised his voice, his tone filled with obvious dissatisfaction and disdain, "Giving us money of this caliber... the Hein family really has no shame! They're supposed to be a respectable family in Ries, yet they're so stingy!"

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"...Yes, after Lord Risangzhuo drank the last glass of wine, he seemed to realize something...it was as if a flash of inspiration descended from the sky, and suddenly he understood everything!"

Inside a large, makeshift tent on the edge of the White Legion's encampment, the atmosphere was quite lively.

Inside the tent, Vito had gathered seven or eight storytellers, bards, and a few informants who were in charge of delivering messages in the dock area. They were dressed in various ways, some of them quite respectable. For example, one bard who was clearly doing well not only wore a silk cloak but also had a small string of gilded chains hanging around his neck.

But many more carried a distinct air of street life, their bodies reeking of cheap perfume, sweat, and alcohol. They huddled together on the benches, so full that they almost resembled a wooden barrel crammed full of pickled vegetables.

"These bandits seem to target only specific people! For example, his beloved daughter, Serafina, has typical silver-blonde hair, and most of the girls who went missing before also had this hair color!"

"So, Tiberius the Lightning... sir." The bard found it difficult to address Tiberius as "sir" directly, but he said it anyway.

"What happened next? What happened after that?"

Looking at the eager bards and storytellers, Jules couldn't help but admire Tiberius even more.

"Alas, Lord Lisandra immediately realized that a girl was needed as bait to lure out the bandits. Then they could be wiped out in one fell swoop! But... alas." Tiberius's face showed an expression of "quite admiration" and "deep emotion," and even his eyes were slightly red.

"Lord Lisandro held my hand with tears in his eyes and said, 'Young Tiberius, my daughter Serafina is missing, and may already be dead. If I send someone else's daughter as bait, what if I'm not careful... Alas! Whose daughter isn't a daughter?'"

After hearing the story, the bards and storytellers present immediately pictured Governor Lisandro's face in their minds, and the story instantly gave his dignified and even somewhat shrewd face a golden glow that only a saint could possess.

[This kid... he's a natural storytelling prodigy!] Vito thought to himself.

In his story, it seems that every time Lisandro makes progress, a new and more noble "moral dilemma" or "real-world obstacle" always emerges, shaping him into a saint struggling painfully between emotion and reason, public and private interests, rather than a shrewd and ruthless politician...

and……

"Ahem, that concludes the third segment. Now, just as I instructed you before, after each segment, no matter how much the audience urges you, do not continue with the next segment. Put down your instruments, or step off the stage, ask for a beer, and before leaving, tell everyone, 'And before you leave, in your most suspenseful tone, tell everyone—'To find out how the Governor resolves this dilemma and cleverly captures the culprit, stay tuned for the next installment!'..." Tiberius paused, picked up a glass of orange juice, and took a sip.

He talked for almost three hours straight, and his throat was practically burning.

Yes, that's the most brilliant part: before Rissandra had even finished resolving the problem, the story... abruptly ended...

This made Vito really curious, eager to hear the next part of the story!

Isn't this just teasing us? This kid is truly a genius!

"Alright, everyone, as for how to make the audience even more engrossed in the story, and more in line with... well, more down-to-earth atmosphere, you can ask Uncle Vito about that." Tiberius stuffed several silver coins into their hands.

Once they had the silver coins, it was obvious that their eyes became "loyal".

"It's a tip." Tiberius patted them on the shoulder. "You've all worked hard, haven't you? Lord Risangor won't let you suffer."

"Oh, right, I remember. Meet at the same place in a week. I'll give you the next part of the story, and remember to report back to the audience for their reaction."

Throughout the entire process, Lisangluo remained somewhat restless, occasionally frowning slightly at the overly strong odor emanating from someone nearby, or leaning back quietly at the excited manner of a storyteller who was spitting as he spoke.

Ultimately, most of these people are just ordinary citizens. Asking them to shower daily and brush their teeth requires careful wording…

It's absolutely impossible, okay?

But he didn't leave, enduring his discomfort to listen until the very end.

For him, these raw, authentic, and bloody stories were far more novel and exciting than the poetry and casual conversations he usually listened to at banquets.

Moreover, this is a story about his father, and both morally and logically, he should insist on listening to it to the end.