The capital of the Seven Kingdoms—King's Landing.
King's Landing also has three abundances.
First, there are many brothels.
Petyr Baelish, the Littlefinger and Treasurer of the State, was a high-ranking official in the Council of Kings and owned the most brothels in the city. His brothels were divided into two classes: the highest class catered to royalty, prime ministers, and kings; the second class catered to knights and knights.
The city is made up of three hills, with streets and houses scattered throughout. Every bustling street has a little finger-sized brothel.
The second largest factor is the large number of people.
King's Landing has a permanent population of over 500,000. In addition, it has the second largest port on the entire continent and is located in the center of the Seven Kingdoms. It is the core area for cultural, political and trade exchanges in the country, which brings the largest number of transient people to King's Landing.
The third problem is the abundance of garbage. Garbage is everywhere, the stench is overwhelming, and it's notorious throughout the Seven Kingdoms, hence King's Landing's other name: Garbage City.
Even outside the city, you can smell the stench of the city.
The city's garbage heaps are mainly concentrated in the Flea Hollow area south of Steel Gate and Dragon's Lair. Flea Hollow is where King's Landing's poor congregate. North of Flea Hollow, across the hills, lies King's Landing's famous Old Town, also known as the wealthy district. Merchants from various countries, high-ranking officials, nobles, and the wealthy all own private villas in the Old Town north of Flea Hollow.
Littlefinger Petyr has three of the most upscale brothels located in the wealthy neighborhood.
Every night, Littlefinger would sit in the largest brothel in his wealthy district to tally the accounts. At a set time, the managers of brothels throughout the city would bring the money they had earned the previous day and their ledgers to this brothel for Littlefinger Petyr Baelish to review.
The rule of submitting yesterday's accounts every day has been in place for two years.
The phrase "making a fortune every day" perfectly describes Littlefinger's income.
Petyr was neither tall nor short, of medium build and slender, which gave him an air of competence and shrewdness. He had handsome features, and a signature mischievous smile often played at the corners of his mouth, as if he were mocking the shallowness of the world. He had grey-green eyes, a small tuft of black beard on his chin, and dark hair streaked with gray.
Littlefinger was extremely particular about etiquette and aristocratic manners. He was always impeccably dressed, and a chimera pin representing the Baelish family crest held a magnificent robe, a symbol of his status. The robe was always pinned diagonally to his right side, making him look like a true nobleman.
It was time to collect the money and check the accounts again. The madam of the furthest Mud Gate was always the first to arrive, and she was Littlefinger Petyr's most admired assistant.
When the madam slipped in through the brothel's back door, Littlefinger's pale green eyes widened, and his voice became slightly urgent: "Where's my money?" That was Littlefinger's first question.
The madam's lips were broken, several teeth were knocked out, her body was covered in blood, her eyes were black and blue, the right side of her face was swollen, and her bright silk clothes were torn to shreds, revealing her red undergarment.
"My lord!" The madam hurried a few steps and plopped down at Littlefinger's feet, reaching out to hug his legs. "My lord, the money was stolen, and I was humiliated. You must notify the garrison to arrest all those thugs." The madam became more and more agitated as she spoke, and began to sob in a drawn-out voice.
"Shut up!" Littlefinger squatted down, regaining his elegant and capable demeanor. He smiled and said softly, "Listen, I have a distinguished guest from across the Narrow Sea. If you disturb one of my guests, I'll cut out your tongue and throw you into a low-class brothel in a flea den, where I guarantee twenty men reeking of stench will come and have their way with you every day."
The madam immediately shut up, silencing her tears and voice.
"Who did this?"
"A knight who calls himself Polliver Clegane." The madam miraculously forgot the humiliation and pain, speaking clearly and reacting quickly, but she couldn't hide the fear in her eyes. "My lord, that guy is a monster. He said he'd gouge out my eyes tomorrow and soak them in a wine vat to make them into works of art. He said he likes my eyes, my lord."
Littlefinger Petyr Baelish knew perfectly well that the Clegane name was not one to be trifled with.
What else did he say?
"He also said that if you don't approve their matter tomorrow, sir, he will..." The madam dared not continue, because the knight named Polliver said something very unpleasant and revealed a very terrible evil. "Sir, that guy doesn't seem to be a normal person."
"No one with the surname Clegane is normal. Tell me, what did he say?" Littlefinger smiled gently, exuding elegance.
But the madam shuddered.
It was as if an invisible knife was pointed at her heart.
"My lord, he said, he said that if you don't give them the best grade of ore, the highest price, and the most lenient delivery time, he will cut off your… thing and stuff it into your mouth. And he will also burn down all your brothels."
Littlefinger had already learned from his subordinates that this group had come empty-handed, without any ore samples, yet they wanted the mining officials to set the highest grade standards for the ore they hadn't yet delivered. They hadn't brought a topographical map of Golden Leaf Bay or estimated ore volumes, yet they wanted the mint officials to set the minimum and maximum standard ore delivery quantities for the month.
In short, nothing was provided; they demanded the highest grade, the most expensive price, and an unreasonablely high limit on the amount of ore to be handed over.
In Littlefinger's experience, if these people don't finish paying their quota, they'll definitely put stones under the gold ore. The Silver Hall Salot family in the West Frontier did just that.
Did he tell him where they live?
"I told you, they're staying at the Steel Street Inn, the inn on the highest hill, next to the blacksmith shop of weapons master Tob Mort. Their master, Gregor Clegane, is waiting for you for one night; after tonight, they'll come here to find you."
"Alright. I understand. Go ahead, you don't need to compensate for the money you lost." Petyr gently patted the madam's swollen face. "Go back to work and I promise they won't bother you again. Don't worry, your eyes won't get soaked in a vat of wine."
"Yes, sir!" The madam trembled slightly.
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*
cocoa!
Cocoa!
Someone knocked on the door very politely.
The door was pulled open, and a man reeking of alcohol glared angrily: "Who are you looking for?"
Petyr Baelish, Littlefinger, smiled elegantly and said, "I'm looking for Lord Gregor Clegane."
"Oh!" The other person turned and walked away, the dagger and short sword hanging at their waist clinking together. "Come with me!"
Littlefinger Petyr Baelish walked through the gate and was greeted by the deafening sounds of drinking games and finger-guessing.
A bunch of unruly and ill-mannered bastards.
Littlefinger followed the soldier in front of him up to the second floor. The entire inn was empty, except for one place where someone was making a lot of noise.
After all, he is the number one villain of the Seven Kingdoms of Demon Mountain. If he stays in this inn, everyone else has to get out.
*
"Sir Gregor," Littlefinger stood calmly before Gregor, "Your Excellency has arrived in King's Landing without even sending a word to me, so I could arrange a few Rhysian virgins for you to quell your itch. Are you and your brothers settling in comfortably here? If you find it unpleasant, lodging, banquets, and women—I'll cover it all. You and your brothers must have a good time."
Gregor stared at the legendary Petyr Baelish, Littlefinger, without saying a word.
Littlefinger remained unfazed and unperturbed; he was an unparalleled master of intrigue and scheming. Of course, what drove him to fully utilize his intelligence was an even greater ambition.