Game of Thrones: The Road to Pirate King

Chapter 111 The Regretful One—Victoria Daniels

Inside the main hall at the bottom of the Ghost Tower, torches cast distorted shadows onto the cold stone walls.

The assassin, captured alive, was firmly chained to a chair. His black mask had been roughly ripped off, revealing a face that surprised everyone—not the cold, stern man they had imagined, but a young woman with a pure, even somewhat childlike, appearance. She was petite, and if it weren't for the lingering professional coldness and current fear in her eyes, she would have been almost indistinguishable from an ordinary girl next door.

Dagmo stood by, panting heavily, holding a leather whip soaked in salt water. The beating he had just given the girl hadn't made her speak.

Euron raised his hand to stop him from taking another step. He slowly stepped forward, his cold gaze sweeping across the girl's face like a scalpel.

“Regretful guest,” he said in a low voice, revealing her origins in one sentence, “the Merchant Guild of Qarth is indeed worthy of its reputation, to have cultivated such a woman who is good at hiding.” His tone was calm, but it carried a chilling pressure, “But your organization will not come to your rescue.”

A failed assassination attempt is nothing more than a "commercial loss" to them. Your life, and the information you currently possess, are your only value.

He leaned down slightly: "Who hired you? Tell me their name, and I'll give you a quick death."

The girl bit her lip and remained stubbornly silent.

Euron straightened up, waved to Dagmore, and made a terrifying, snarling face: "Heat the skinning knife," he commanded, as if ordering an extra dish for dinner. Then he turned to the Shadowbinder Evelyn in the shadows, "If she's still breathing after being skinned, you'll have your new experimental subject."

Euron was not Ramsay Bolton after all, nor did he possess the ability of the Ramsay family to peel off an entire human skin. He only said he would peel the skin off to scare the young girl.

Although the young girl was very scared, she still bit her lip and refused to say another word.

What ultimately broke down the girl's psychological defenses was not the threat of a whip or skinning.

Euron gestured for her to be dragged to Bachelor Qyburn's laboratory. The moment the door opened, a strong stench of preservatives and blood assaulted the senses. On a stone table, a body had been completely dissected. Qyburn, wearing blood-stained gloves, was intently recording the characteristics of the organs, as if it were merely an instrument to be studied. That cold, inhuman, and emotionless scene of "academic" work was more chilling than any direct torture.

Looking at the cold scalpel and the scholar's indifferent eyes, imagining herself about to become the next "specimen," the girl's last psychological defenses completely collapsed. She screamed, tears mingling with the blood on her face.

"Kohor!" she screamed hoarsely. "It's the Kohor people! Their chamber of commerce paid for it!"

She recounted the reason haltingly: it turned out that Balf had successfully negotiated a deal with the Dothraki Khal for fifty high-quality scimitars in exchange for a horse, a far more favorable offer than the Kohor people's previous condition of twenty inferior scimitars for a horse. The enraged Khal, believing he had been long deceived by the Kohor, led his tribe to Kohor demanding huge compensation. The Kohor suffered heavy losses, and only after investigation did they discover that the top blacksmiths who had recently disappeared had been recruited by Euron Greyjoy of the Iron Islands, and were now forging weapons far superior to their own, completely disrupting their business and bringing them this undeserved disaster.

The Corhol Merchant Guild harbored resentment because of this, which is why they spared no expense to hire "Regretful Guest" from Qarth, determined to eliminate Euron, this source of trouble.

So it turns out the trouble was caused by the blacksmith and the scimitar business. Now that you think about it, it makes perfect sense.

A brief silence fell over the hall, broken only by the crackling of the torches and the female assassin's heavy breathing. She raised her head, closed her eyes, and with a resolute air of utter surrender, said, "I've said everything. Kill me!"

Euron did not respond immediately. He stroked his chin, a calculating glint in his eyes, and after a moment, he unexpectedly spoke: "It's not necessarily about killing you. Death is sometimes a waste; I can employ you to serve me."

The female assassin's eyes snapped open, filled with disbelief and humiliation. She practically screamed as she retorted, "Don't even think about it! I'd rather die than be your bed slave!"

Euron's lips curled into a mocking smile. His gaze deliberately swept over her flat chest before shifting to the voluptuous red-robed priestess Gwendolyn beside her, the contrast unmistakable. "You're overthinking it," he said, his tone flat but utterly humiliating. "I have little interest in your type—chest to back."

Before the female assassin could erupt again, Euron continued, "I once traveled across the Narrow Sea and met one of your colleagues, also a regretful traveler. He accepted my employment and served me for three whole years. If he could do it, so can you."

The female assassin paused for a moment, then blurted out instinctively, "Castor Daniels?" Her tone was filled with disbelief and astonishment.

This time it was Euron's turn to be a little surprised: "Oh, you know him?"

"He's quite 'famous' among the Regretful Ones," the female assassin's tone became complex, a mixture of disdain and a strange familiarity. "Almost everyone in the Regretful Ones knows his name."

Euron raised an eyebrow: "I didn't expect Castor to be so powerful, with such a reputation?"

"He's a disgrace to the Guild!" the female assassin interrupted him excitedly, her voice filled with professional shame. "He has no professional ethics, does whatever he wants, and is more like a prodigal son than an assassin. He was expelled from the guild long ago! Now, all new recruits are to be used as a negative example during their training, warned never to tarnish the organization's reputation like he did!"

Euron was silent for a moment, seemingly processing the information, before letting out a knowing chuckle: "I see."

The female assassin turned her head away, her voice lowering, carrying a barely perceptible fluctuation: "He is my brother."

"What a small world, haha!" Euron finally couldn't help but laugh out loud. This unexpected connection made him feel that fate was truly wonderful. After laughing, he looked at the female assassin again, his tone returning to its previous tentative tone: "So, based on this wonderful connection, would you be willing to accept me as your servant?"

The female assassin didn't answer immediately. After a moment of silence, she asked, "If I don't want to, will you kill me?"

"If I let you go, will you come back to assassinate me?"

The female assassin replied decisively, "No."

"Then I probably won't kill you. You're just a pawn being used. Whether I kill you or not won't make much difference. Besides—" Euron shrugged, appearing casual, "you're Castor Daniels' sister, and I happen to know where he is. If I send someone to return you safely to him, he'll owe me a considerable favor. A favor from a former regretful guest might come in handy someday."

This exchange was even harder for her to accept than death. Imagining facing the shame of her family and the fact that she had caused him to owe her a favor, and the countless taunts he would hurl at her in the future—she suddenly looked up.

"I accept the job!" she said through gritted teeth, as if afraid she would regret it.

This time, Euron paused slightly: "Oh? You changed your mind so quickly? Because you're afraid of seeing your brother?"

"If I fail, I won't be a regretful guest anymore." The female assassin's voice carried a hint of melancholy, yet remained unusually clear-headed. "I don't want to die, but I also don't want to have anything to do with that scoundrel brother. Serving you—at least that sounds a little more acceptable than the former."

She added, "On the condition that you don't make any advances towards my body!"

"Little sister, don't overthink it. There are plenty of empty rooms, just find one and sleep in it." Euron chuckled, his left arm around the red-robed priestess Gwendolyn, and his right arm around the shadowbinder Evelyn. He gave her a disdainful look and left. Before leaving the hall, he turned back and asked, "By the way, since you've accepted me as your servant, at least you should tell me your name first."

The girl's tone was still angry, but she still uttered her name: "Victoria Daniels!"

"Welcome, Victoria Daniels. From now on, you are a member of this island." Euron had already left, and only his voice echoed back from afar.

Dagmo was extremely uneasy about the sudden appearance of a guest, especially one who had just attempted to assassinate his young master. Even though Euron casually mentioned that he had already recruited her, Dagmo warned, "I'll be keeping an eye on you. If I find anything amiss..."

Victoria sneered, showing no sign of backing down: "Hmph, you whipped me twenty-eight times, I remember it very clearly!"

"Then you'd better remember this forever! Next time it won't be a whip!"

Everyone left, and the hall suddenly became deserted.

Victoria found a corner to sit down. Although she was no longer a disappointed guest, she still wanted to reflect on the reasons for her failed assassination attempt. Suddenly, she heard a soft, weak voice:

"Would you like to stay and participate in the experiments?"

Coburn, the skinny, elementary school boy forgotten in a corner, held a knife and an axe in his hands. Before him lay a disemboweled corpse. On his pale face, a smile he considered the most adorable and kindest appeared. "Ah~~~ A ghost~~~"