Game of Thrones: The Road to Pirate King

Chapter 347 Recruitment – ​​Tetsu Nestos

The next morning.

Through the introduction of the River family, a master craftsman known as "Groundhog" Bod came to Euron.

Bode comes from a third-generation family of stonemasons in the Riverlands. His knowledge of the local soil structure, stone properties, and groundwater sources is as intimate as the lines on his own palm. His addition provided crucial information to the team of craftsmen from the Iron Islands, who were more familiar with the ocean and reefs.

Bode worked closely with the stonemasons and craftsmen to develop several detailed plans for the renovation of Harrenburg.

In a side room of Harrenhal, which was temporarily used as a council chamber, several meticulously drawn parchment scrolls were spread out on a long table, covered with various symbols and lines.

The stonemasons and craftsmen stood solemnly to one side, their expressions a mixture of tension and anticipation.

Euron carefully reviewed each scroll and description. He did not choose the grand blueprints that attempted to restore the castle to its former glory, which were costly and time-consuming, nor did he choose the radical designs that completely demolished and rebuilt the castle.

The solution he ultimately chose was the most pragmatic one, one that precisely addressed the current needs.

The core of this plan lies in "repair and reinforcement" rather than "reconstruction and expansion". It cleverly utilizes the relatively intact existing structure of Harrenhal, focusing on restoring the defensive and residential functions of key areas, while efficiently clearing and utilizing large areas of ruins.

This plan allows Harrenhal to quickly shed its dilapidated appearance and become a fully functional and powerful fortress again, while also being extremely restrained in terms of the cost of gold dragons and manpower, perfectly meeting Euron's current needs.

"Let's go with this approach," Euron concluded, adding, "What I need is a Harrenhal that can operate quickly, not a dreamlike blueprint that will take a generation to complete."

Although the plan was finalized, modifications and revisions were inevitable during its actual implementation. Euron delegated these powers to the professionals and indicated that he would no longer interfere.

When Duke Euron's letter requesting the appointment of a scholar to Harrenhal arrived at the ancient city of the Academy, this request from a newly rich nobleman of the Riverlands was presented to Dr. Schiobold, the city's steward.

This steward, known for his "rigorous to the point of being rigid" academic attitude and "skillful coordination among various forces," submitted the information to the powerful shogun in accordance with procedure.

Inside the cardinal's chamber, the doctors, dressed in grey robes, sat around a long table, examining the letter of request, focusing not only on "the Lord's stated needs" but also on "the Citadel's own interests and plans."

The letter stated that Harrenhal's most pressing need was to manage its vast territory and the soon-to-be-recovered trade, therefore the required scholars should primarily be skilled in managing taxes and trade, with medicine and raven communications as secondary skills.

After a series of sharp and insightful discussions and deliberations, the Cardinals finally made their decision. They unanimously agreed that sending Maester Goemann to Harrenhal would best satisfy both the Lord's needs and the Citadel's expectations.

Sigrún has taught at the Iceland University of the Arts as a part-time lecturer since and was Dean of the Department of Fine Art from -. In – she held a research position at Reykjavík Art Museum focusing on the role of women in Icelandic art. She studied fine art at the Icelandic College of Arts and Crafts and at Pratt Institute, New York, and holds BA and MA degrees in art history and philosophy from the University of Iceland. Sigrún lives and works in Iceland.

Maester Goman is a recognized financial expert within the Citadel. He wears a gold ring around his neck, a symbol of his financial expertise. He was deeply involved in drafting the complex spice trade agreements between the Citadel and the free trade cities of the East, and is exceptionally skilled at building and managing intricate financial systems. For Harrenhal, a city in dire need of rebuilding and establishing a new economic order, he is undoubtedly the perfect candidate.

Euron was also pleased with the Citadel's arrangements, and he specially hosted a welcome banquet for Maester Goman to show his respect for him.

The world of Techo Nestos, the messenger of the Iron Treasury, collapsed the moment those two million golden dragons sank to the bottom of the icy sea along with the fleet.

His former shrewdness and power have vanished, leaving him like an empty shell stripped of his soul. He shed his former purple robes and fled to the cheapest brothels and taverns in King's Landing, numbing himself with cheap alcohol and escaping the inevitable horror of his impending doom in a drunken stupor.

He knew better than anyone the Iron Bank's cruel methods for dealing with losers, and he knew he was doomed.

When Lisa's men finally found him in the sewage and garbage heap of the flea den, this once arrogant Braavos nobleman had already been thrown out of the tavern after exhausting his last golden dragon. He lay drunk and unconscious in the mud like the lowest beggar, reeking of stench.

Tetsu Nestorus was dragged to Harrenhal like a dead dog. When he was brought before Euron, the pride and nobility that Tetsu once possessed as a member of the Iron Bank's upper echelons, which were etched into his very bones, had vanished completely.

-

All that remained were a pair of empty, lifeless eyes, staring blankly, like a fish that had been exposed to the sun on the mudflats for a long time and had already died.

Euron stared at Taichu, who lay curled up on the ground like a rotten log, and teased, "What's wrong? Afraid that you're still alive but haven't spent all your gold—feeling like you've lost out, and you're not even willing to die?"

Techu Nestos's cloudy eyes moved slightly but did not focus, his chapped lips remained tightly closed, and he did not utter a word, as if all his life force had been extinguished along with the golden dragon that sank to the bottom of the sea.

Euron didn't seem to care. As if by magic, he produced a golden key tied with a red string, its tip gleaming with a unique, heavy sheen in the dim light. He held the key up to Taichu's eyes and gently shook it; the red string and the golden key formed a tiny pendulum, swaying back and forth before Taichu's eyes. "Do you still recognize it?"

That familiar golden hue pierced Taichu's eyes like needles. His stagnant gaze finally stirred, his lips began to tremble uncontrollably, and a strange sound escaped his throat. With all his might, he raised his filthy, slightly trembling hand, wanting to touch the token that was so close yet so unattainable.

Just as his fingertips were about to touch the key, Euron pulled his wrist back deftly and chuckled, "Looks like you're not quite dead yet; at least you still recognize what this is."

"Give it back to me." Taichu's voice was hoarse, like a broken bellows, filled with a desperate plea.

"Give it back to you?" Euron chuckled softly, as if he'd heard a funny joke. "What good would it do you? To you now, it's just a piece of metal with some sentimental value, completely useless." His tone shifted, becoming sharper and more realistic. "Besides, aren't you already determined to die? Isn't it a waste for someone seeking death to keep something that represents their identity and past?"

The word "waste" was like the last straw, breaking Taichu's numb nerves. A deep hatred suddenly flashed in his eyes, shooting straight at Youlun.

If it weren't for Euren, there wouldn't have been that additional three million gold dragon loans!

For centuries, the Iron Treasury had been traveling to and from Westeros. Each time a huge sum of money was transported, the top experts would repeatedly survey the celestial phenomena and sea conditions to choose the best time to set sail when the winds were calm. Never before had such a disruptive accident occurred!

A voice was screaming wildly in the depths of Taichu's heart. He was almost certain that this "natural disaster" was inextricably linked to the man in front of him. However, whether it was the testimonies of the surviving sailors and guards or the subsequent on-site investigation by the investigators, all the evidence pointed flawlessly to an extremely unfortunate and purely natural disaster.

According to the cold, ruthless rules of the Iron Bank, this huge loss caused by "force majeure" will ultimately be borne entirely by him—the person directly in charge of the loan.

This hatred, which had no way of being proven or appealed, could only rot in his heart along with endless fear and despair.

Euron looked down at Tychu, who was curled up on the ground, and casually offered a suggestion: "Tychu, I'm planning to open a bank in Westeros, and I happen to need a business-savvy manager. How about coming to work for me?"

Taichu let out a sneer that was almost a sob, his voice hoarse: "Help you? A dying man already marked by death—not worth your trouble recruiting."

"What if I said," Euron's voice held a strange, seductive quality, "that I could let you live?"

"The Faceless Ones' pursuit—no one can escape." Taichu's eyes were filled with a deathly grayness, the despair that only those who deeply believe their fate is sealed can feel.

Upon hearing this, Youlun pondered for a moment, then took out an antique-style silver coin from his pocket.

It lay quietly in Euron's palm, gleaming with an unusual luster in the dim light. The coin was inscribed with "Valar".

The inscription reads "Morghulis" (All men must die).

"Do you recognize this?" Euron showed it to Taichu, saying, "This is a token personally given to me by the benevolent man of the Black and White Temple."

As a Braavosian, as the steward of the Iron Treasury, and as the key keeper, Techo certainly recognized this silver coin.

It has two functions. First, it can get you help from the Faceless Men. Second, it can remove you from the Faceless Men's death list.

For Taichu now, it represents the hope of survival.

Taichu's breathing suddenly quickened, and a near-mad light erupted in his lifeless eyes. He stared intently at the silver coin, his voice hoarse with extreme desire: "Give it to me!"

Euron's fingers tightened, calmly returning the silver coin to his palm. He smiled and said, "It seems you recognize it. Then you must know what it represents and what its value is." He looked down at Taichu and asked, "Give it to you? Unless you can prove to me that the value you can create for me in the future far exceeds this silver coin itself."

"I can!" Tychu practically roared, straining to prop himself up as if pouring out all his pent-up emotions at once. He gasped, "My family were the first Keepers of the Keys! I am a direct descendant of the 23rd founder of the Iron Bank! I know its countless secret operating methods, loopholes, and even the patterns in its core accounting! I grew up there, served as its bank manager for many years, and banking is in my blood! If you want to build a bank, I can absolutely help you establish a financial system that surpasses Westeros's current level!"

Euron listened to his eager confession and slowly chuckled: "Sounds good. But, Taichu, you've chosen to serve me now out of fear of death. In the future, won't you betray me in the same way out of fear of other things or threats from other people? Tell me, how can I trust someone driven by fear?"

Taichu was taken aback by the question, then a desperate, resolute clarity flashed in his eyes. He stopped begging and instead answered with unusual frankness, even a touch of self-mockery: "Yes, you can't trust me. In fact, you should never completely trust me." He raised his head, looked directly at Euren, and solemnly said, "But as long as you remain strong, strong enough to protect me and free me from other fears, then I will not betray you. All I want is to live and restore my family's tarnished glory."

Taichu's voice was filled with deep resentment and unwillingness as he said, "The Iron Treasury has long since abandoned my family, abandoned me! No matter how much effort I've put in, even though the founder's blood flows in my veins, I've always been excluded from the innermost circle of power, like a permanent outsider!"

Taichu knew that his life and death were now completely out of his control, so he could only fight to the death and said, "Lord Youlun, I can see that your ambition is very big, bigger than I can imagine—even that so-called natural disaster was caused by you, right?"

Even, your goal in opening a bank is to swallow up the Iron Vault, isn't it? I'm the one who can help you achieve that goal. Only I truly understand every weakness and crack beneath its glamorous surface.

Youlun's gaze was as heavy as a physical object on Taichu's face, scrutinizing every subtle change in his eyes.

The brief silence seemed to last forever, until a faint smile flickered across Euron's lips, turning into a barely audible sneer.

"Go take a shower," Euron said calmly as he turned around. "You stink right now."

He didn't look at Taichu again and walked straight towards the door. But in the instant he turned around, he casually tossed the silver coin, which carried the weight of life and hope, behind him.

The silver coin traced an arc in the air, accompanied by a faint metallic hum, and landed precisely on the rough stone ground in front of Taichu with a "clink".

Taichu's pupils suddenly contracted. Almost the instant the silver coin hit the ground, he leaned forward like a hungry tiger pouncing on its prey, gripping it tightly in his hand with all his might.

The cold metallic touch sent a shiver down his spine. Then, as if guarding the most precious treasure in the world, he pressed his clenched fist, along with the silver coin, against his violently heaving chest, curled up on the ground, and remained motionless for a long time.