Game of Thrones: The Road to Pirate King

Chapter 319 Curtain Call - The Octopus Spider's Final Act

Lloyd Hutchinson's scarred face made it almost impossible to tell where he came from.

Only a very few people know that he comes from the distant continent of Sosros, a place known as "Axe Island," a land of ancient jungles and primitive tribes. The legends surrounding him are more chilling than his appearance. It is said that the dagger in his hand possesses a demonic precision, capable of peeling flesh from a person's bones bit by bit while they remain conscious, ultimately leaving behind a complete, trembling skeleton.

Two years ago, on the Stepstone Islands, a place permeated with the salty stench and stench of sin, this man, feared by all, stumbled upon Euron's recruitment notice. The black flag bearing the sea monster seemed to resonate with some deep-seated longing within his soul. He traversed the bustling harbor and countless suspicious gazes, arriving before Euron, who had by then conquered the Stepstone Islands with absolute power.

When Lloyd answered the call, he didn't display his terrifying skills. Instead, he stared directly at Euron with his clear, grey eyes, still bright despite the scars, and said in a hoarse voice like grime grinding: "In this world, no one can keep a secret from me." Euron, who was then desperately trying to establish his own order and deterrent power, merely narrowed his eyes slightly upon hearing this. He didn't ask any questions or doubts, as if he could see through the unique value hidden beneath this terrifying exterior at a glance.

“Very good,” Euron simply nodded calmly. “I happen to be short of a criminal judge.”

From that moment on, Lloyd Hutchinson from Axe Island became the most chilling part of the shadows, and Euron's most deadly and loyal key, used to unlock the most stubborn mouths and peek into the deepest secrets.

After bringing people back from King's Landing, Lloyd Hutchinson's fearsome skills were used on only one person on the island—Varys, the former chief intelligence officer of the Seven Kingdoms.

The interrogation room, deep underground, is perpetually filled with the salty smell of the sea and a faint, even more unpleasant odor.

When Euron stepped inside, ready to hear the final results, his gaze fell on the "thing" chained to the stone wall, and his steps faltered for a moment.

That can hardly be called a "person".

Her once full, round cheeks were now deeply sunken, as if covered by a thin, deathly gray skin clinging to the contours of her skull. Those eyes, which had always gleamed with shrewdness and calculation in King's Landing, now seemed to have lost their humanity; the remaining light within them was as faint as a candle flickering in the wind. Her once magnificent silk robes had been replaced by filthy rags, and her exposed skin was covered with indescribable marks and scars.

Euron's memories flashed back, sweeping across the image of the octopus-like figure who moved nimbly through the corridors of King's Landing, reeking of perfume, and effortlessly controlling countless secrets. Contrasting this with the curled-up, almost inhuman body before him, a sense of absurd alienation gripped him.

At first glance, he couldn't recognize any connection between the two.

The damp air in the dungeon seemed to solidify, broken only by the occasional crackling of torches. Euron stood before the curled-up body, his voice calm: "Varys," he called, as if addressing a familiar old friend, "did you ever imagine you'd end up like this?"

The figure chained by the iron chains moved slightly, its chapped lips parted with difficulty, but only a few hoarse gasps came out, like a broken bellows panting.

At that moment, Lloyd, who had been standing in the shadows, took a half-step forward. His voice was soft, yet it sent a shiver down Varys's spine. "When the master questions you," Lloyd's voice slid like a venomous snake across stone, "what should you do?"

Extreme fear flashed in Varys's cloudy eyes, and he spoke almost instinctively: "Answer—answer the truth."

Before he could finish speaking, Lloyd had somehow produced a strangely shaped pair of pliers in his hand. He precisely clamped onto a layer of loose skin on Varys' chest and then slowly applied pressure. Varys convulsed in pain but dared not struggle.

"Then why aren't you answering?" Lloyd's voice remained calm.

"No—I never thought this day would come!" Varys finally cried out, tears mixed with blood streaming down his face.

Just when he thought the torture was over, Lloyd's knife deftly sliced ​​through the skin, peeling off a thin layer of skin completely.

"And what is the honorific?" Lloyd's voice remained soft, as if whispering.

Varys let out a scream that sounded inhuman: "Master—!"

The piercing cry echoed through the dungeon walls before being swallowed by the boundless darkness.

Euron waved his hand to signal Lloyd to pause, and asked: Is there anything else he knows that he is hiding?

Lloyd: I made him recall exactly what the person who was stabbed in the butt looked like when he was three years old. I swear on my life, there was nothing I missed. Euron's cold questions echoed between the stone walls, each word like a poisoned dagger, precisely piercing the disguise that Varys had woven with his entire life.

"You say you protect the weak," Euron's voice held no anger, only an almost cruel calm, "but those little birds who steal your secrets—aren't they weak too? When you sent them into the abyss, did you ever think of protecting them?"

Varys tried to curl up, but was mercilessly pulled by the chains.

"You claim loyalty to the kingdom, yet you've deceived king after king. You claim to protect the people, yet you've spread rumors in the shadows, personally lighting the fuse of war." Euron stepped forward, his shadow enveloping Varys' trembling body. "You say you're choosing a wise ruler, but what about the mad king, Aerys? Is he also a good king you approve of? If so, why didn't you support the virtuous Prince Rhaegar sooner?"

He leaned down, his gaze piercing Varys's empty eyes like icicles: "You say you're loyal to the people? But if it weren't for your little bird stirring up trouble everywhere, how could the Seven Kingdoms be engulfed in war? Under the iron heel of this chaotic world, people fell like weeds—every single one of these deaths is recorded in your account."

Finally, Euron's voice lowered further, yet carried a deadly piercing force, completely tearing away the last mask: "Varys, you serve no one. All you do is because your body is crippled."

"You're a eunuch. Only by turning the whole world upside down and plunging it into chaos can you gain a pitiful sense of existence and feel a twisted pleasure in the game of power."

Am I right?

Whenever Euron thought of Varys, he would think of the Ten Attendants of the late Han Dynasty, Zhao Gao of the Qin Dynasty, Gao Lishi of the Tang Dynasty, Wei Zhongxian of the Ming Dynasty... Almost no eunuch was mentally sound.

A deathly silence fell over the dungeon. Varys trembled violently; the towering edifice of beliefs he had painstakingly built throughout his life crumbled in that instant. He opened his mouth, but could only utter broken, tearful murmurs: "I—I don't know—"

"I really don't know—" Tears mixed with blood streamed down his utterly devastated face.

A flicker of displeasure flashed in Lloyd's gray eyes. Clearly, Varys's vague and disjointed answer fell far short of his standard of "truthful reply." He silently took a step forward, a strangely shaped tool now in his hand, its cold, metallic sheen gleaming in the dim firelight.

Just as he was about to bend down, Euron raised his hand slightly, stopping him.

"No need to ask anymore." Euron's voice remained calm, without the slightest ripple, as if he were making a trivial decision. "Since his tongue can no longer produce the truth we need, there's no point in keeping it. Remove it."

Lloyd's gruesome scars remained unmoved, showing no surprise at the order. He silently put away his tools and instead drew a shorter, thicker knife from its leather sheath at his waist; its blade appeared dull and even somewhat clumsy.

Without a moment's hesitation, he grabbed Varys's jaw with one hand, forcing the man to open his mouth. Varys seemed to sense what was about to happen, letting out a desperate "whoosh" in his throat. His broken body began to struggle violently, the chains rattling, but he couldn't break free even a fraction.

Lloyd's movements were steady and precise. The relatively dull blade wasn't cutting, but rather sawing back and forth across the tongue that had once been so eloquent and capable of stirring up the seven kingdoms. It was a slow and agonizing process, akin to sawing damp wood, the dull, sticky sound particularly clear in the silent dungeon.

Varys's body was taut as iron, his eyes bulging, and his incoherent sobs were choked by blood and excruciating pain, turning into intermittent and agonizing gasps.

In a short while, everything was done.

Lloyd, expressionless, tossed the mangled piece of flesh onto the straw at his feet with a soft thud.

He took a half step back, turned to Euron, and nodded slightly, indicating that the mission was complete.

Euron stopped looking at the trembling body and turned to Qyburn, who stood silently to the side. His voice was as calm as if he were giving a routine business instruction: "Qyburn, you have a new material in your experimental inventory." He paused, then added meaningfully, "Make good use of it."

"Flame—Apollo!"

Before he could finish speaking, a blazing flame burst forth from the shadows of his left shoulder—an elemental creature created from the Soul-Soul Fruit. It landed lightly at Euron's feet, its eyes, composed entirely of flame, locking onto Varys.

Without warning, it suddenly opened its mouth, and a highly concentrated, incandescent pillar of fire shot out, precisely engulfing Varys's face.

"Ugh—Ah!!!"

A piercing scream erupted briefly, then was swallowed by the roar of flames. The air instantly filled with the horrible smell of charred flesh. The flames did not spread and burn, but rather had a strange, sticky quality, like molten lava, covering Varys' entire face.

A moment later, Flame Apollo withdrew its flames, gracefully leaped back onto Euron's shoulder, and disappeared from sight.

What remained was a horrifying face that could no longer be identified as human—skin, muscles, features, all contours melted and fused together under extreme heat, eventually solidifying into a smooth and complete hard shell covering the skull, a mixture of charred black and dark red, like a hideous pancake forcibly branded on.

Varys could no longer make a sound, only unconscious, intermittent sobs coming from beneath his chains.

Euron stood still, coldly watching Varys's disfigured face. His voice was not loud, but it was clearly audible in the silence of the dungeon, as if he were stating a pre-planned procedure.

"If his tongue is pulled out, he will be unable to reveal any secrets with words."

"Burn his face, and no one in the world will be able to recognize him."

"If we handle it this way, it won't matter even if someone sees it. This way, the test subjects won't have any accidents. Koben, understand?"

Euron's considerations were always so thorough. Even when dealing with a prisoner on the verge of losing himself and becoming experimental material, he would completely erase all traces of his past—his voice, his appearance. Only by eliminating all potential risks could absolute control be ensured. On this isolated island, even the cruelty inflicted on enemies required the most shrewd calculation. He also wanted to use Varys as an example to tell Qyburn that he must be careful when doing dangerous things in the future, and not leave any loose ends to be caught.

Koben nodded repeatedly, his eyes shining with admiration, indicating that he had learned it.