ROAAAAAR—
As the Titan roared, Braavos entered the night.
If one continued to walk armed with a sword at this hour, other bravos and assassins had the right to challenge them, and the winner could claim a possession from the loser.
At a manor near the Moon Pool, many people came and went through the side door. They were of various identities: assassins, beggars, mummers, sailors, healers, peddlers.
These people were what Sabel Kaffi often referred to as his "blind eye."
"My Lord, after collating the information from this morning, there isn't much of value."
A servant reported the news gathered from all over Braavos while serving Sabel Kaffi his meal.
On Sabel Kaffi's table sat his favorite onion meat soup, white bread made from finely ground wheat, and a baked seafood pie with crab and shrimp.
Beside the food was peach wine shipped from across the Narrow Sea.
The soft white bread dipped in the savory soup filled his mouth with salty, umami flavor. This was Sabel Kaffi's favorite taste.
Chewing the bread, Sabel Kaffi popped the sapphire out of his empty eye socket and handed it to the servant. "What are the movements of those insurance merchants?"
"The insurance merchants have stopped selling any contracts for the Braavos-White Harbor route, no matter how high the captains bid." The servant placed the sapphire in hot water and cleaned it carefully with a small brush.
"However, there are rumors that at the upcoming Harvest Feast Masquerade, they plan to expose your collusion with the Sistermen targeting their insured captains to the Sealord and the judges."
The Harvest Feast and Masquerade was a traditional festival held annually in Braavos, usually lasting ten days.
During the festival, almost everyone in Braavos wore masks and drank freely. On the tenth day, when the Titan roared, everyone would unmask together.
The Sealord would also invite the city's prominent nobles and top talents from all industries to celebrate in the Sealord's Palace, showing respect and favor.
"Just a dying struggle. Which law in Braavos forbids selling information for profit?"
Kaffi lifted his three chins, curling his lip in disdain. He stuffed a piece of seafood pie cut by the servant into his mouth and washed it down with crisp peach wine.
While enjoying the food, he didn't forget to order:
"Increase my guard. Hire more skilled swordsmen. Didn't the bastard create that swordsman certification?
"Snow, Peach, whatever. And those Black Mamba swordsmen. Saves us the trouble of screening them."
Servant: "Yes, my Lord. I will arrange it. However, hiring Peach-mark swordsmen costs more than ordinary ones, and Black Mamba swordsmen cannot be hired with money alone."
Kaffi spat dissatisfiedly. "These swordsmen nowadays, get a decent sword and become unbearably arrogant. Singers make them sound like they don't shit or fart. I think they're far less lovable than my good dog, Claw."
The servant was clearly used to Kaffi's manner of speech and lowered his voice:
"My Lord, I have confirmed intelligence that one of those insurance merchants visited the House of Black and White. They might hire a Faceless Man!"
"Haha..." Kaffi suddenly laughed happily, his fat jiggling.
"They really are desperate like cornered dogs. Faceless Men are only good for scaring outlanders and savages."
"They can't afford the price a Faceless Man demands for a kill."
Years ago, he had visited the House of Black and White, asking the priests of the Many-Faced God to arrange for a Faceless Man to kill an assassin.
His blind eye was courtesy of that assassin.
However, the assassin worked for a Keyholder, so he couldn't act directly and sought the Faceless Men.
He knew Faceless Men made kills look like accidents, leaving no trace.
But the price the priest demanded far exceeded what he could bear.
"Death is a gift. The Many-Faced God is never stingy with his gift, for all men must die," the priest receiving him had said in an extremely flat tone.
"However, all men must serve. After the Many-Faced God grants the gift, you must serve him with your whole heart and soul from now on. Can you do that?"
"I... I cannot."
I couldn't do it, and they certainly can't, Sabel Kaffi comforted himself again.
After all, he only wanted a Faceless Man to kill an assassin, and the price was all his assets and the rest of his life.
To kill him, someone with fame and wealth far exceeding an assassin? The price would be unimaginable.
"Hurry up and hire Peach-mark swordsmen. If it costs more, pay it." Sabel Kaffi smacked his lips and instructed the servant again.
Only after the servant promised to complete it did he ask, "Any movement from the bastard?"
"Since Zaren returned, everything has been normal on the bastard's side. He's managing his smithy and fleet, no movement," the servant replied.
"They haven't arranged to return the contract you drafted personally. I asked Pate, and he said the bastard is still considering it. They still accept all the shipping information we provide."
"Good, I know. You may leave." Kaffi waved his fat hand.
"Tell the guards outside to keep their eyes wide open recently. Tell the kitchen to prepare the meat Claw likes and feed him. He can't sleep well without meat at night."
The servant acknowledged, bowed respectfully, and withdrew. Kaffi continued to enjoy his favorite dinner alone in the room.
Just as Kaffi was about to finish all the food on the table, a slight, rhythmic tapping came from the wall behind him. If one didn't listen carefully, it was impossible to detect.
Hearing the sound, Kaffi struggled to stand up, supporting his round belly. He grabbed a gilded mermaid ornament on the cabinet and twisted it rhythmically a few times.
A secret door opened in the side wall, and a graceful figure walked out quickly.
Sabel Kaffi piled a smile onto his fat face and said eagerly to the figure, "My Mermaid, why are you so late?"
"Confirming some news took time." The visitor was a beauty with a standard figure and face.
Kaffi openly used his 'blind eye' network to collect intelligence, but in reality, it just covered his true source.
No one knew he secretly controlled a famous brothel and even cooperated with the 'Mermaid Queen' among the courtesans to obtain valuable information.
Sabel Kaffi understood that the information collected by his 'blind eyes' was basic, often false.
But in a brothel, after a few cups of wine and under the teasing of girls, extracting information was often easy and reliable.
The Mermaid brought him the news he wanted: "Zaren Borrell threatened to find leverage on you, even kidnap you, but was stopped by Arthur Snow."
Then, the Mermaid described the entire meeting between Arthur and Zaren in detail, even recounting what Arthur whispered to Weiss as if she had been there.
Kaffi: "Where... where did you hear this?"
"Who else? Unsatisfied men." The Mermaid rolled her eyes at him. "You used to bring Zaren to play often. Recently, he followed suit and brought his friends."
The Mermaid counted on her white fingers: "The dark-skinned Summer Islander, the Braavosi, the Westerosi. Their lips are tight, but each one spilling a little allowed me to piece together the complete intelligence."
"The bastard told Zaren to familiarize himself with the businesses. I didn't expect his method to be so... unique." Sabel Kaffi commented.
"I tried to recruit him long ago. Pity his Braavosi was poor then. We could only communicate simply, but I sensed he didn't trust me."
The Mermaid shook her head. "How can there be trust without a common language?"
"Many of his Braavosi words were taught by my girls in bed. They said he was clumsy and took a long time to learn."
The Mermaid then spilled a plethora of information. Besides Arthur, it included ship movements, departure times, destinations, insurance statuses, and underwriters.
Inside information on Braavos customs, material preparations for the upcoming Harvest Feast and Masquerade, and the rough guest list of the Sealord.
Names like Arthur, Sabel Kaffi, the 'Black Pearl', and even the 'Mermaid Queen' were prominently listed.
They spent fifteen minutes more than usual.
After completing the information exchange, the Mermaid left through the secret door with infinite charm.
After she left, Sabel Kaffi reviewed the information again.
Looking at the note saying Arthur Snow didn't like his tactic of finding loopholes in the contract.
"I don't care if the bastard likes it or not." Sabel Kaffi snapped the notebook shut.
"I like my good dog Claw. Can I make everyone turn into Claw?"
Even if the bastard doesn't like it, he has to come to me personally, put on a smile, and negotiate. For those 20,000 Gold Dragons.
Thinking of this, Kaffi felt comfortable all over. He ordered the servant to light incense in the bedroom, lay on his velvet bed, covered himself with a silk quilt, and fell asleep peacefully.
---
ROAAAAAR—
The Titan roared again, signaling the arrival of day.
Sabel Kaffi woke from his dream. He exhaled a long breath, feeling refreshed and happy, though he felt a bit damp.
He didn't think much of it. Braavos was made of islands; high humidity was normal.
Rubbing his single eye, Sabel Kaffi sat up to light the fireplace and dry off the dampness.
When he lifted the silk quilt, a bloody smell that the incense couldn't suppress hit him in the face.
Kaffi squinted in confusion.
A bloody dog head lay right at his feet!
The familiar look of the dog head... he recognized it at a glance. It... it was the head of his beloved dog, Claw!
When fear overwhelms a person, thousands of words are reduced to a single sound.
"AAAAAHHHHH!!!!!!"
The one-eyed fat man's scream was thin and high-pitched, even drowning out the Titan's roar outside the window.
Recovering from the shock, Kaffi kicked the dog head off the bed violently, gasping and retching uncontrollably, covered in body fluids.
The velvet bed was soaked in dog blood, sweat, and urine.
Bang, bang, bang—
Just as he caught his breath, the door was pounded violently.
Startled, Kaffi let out another hoarse scream from his throat, then heard the servant's familiar voice from outside:
"My Lord, that bastard is here to see you!"