In the five days before the auction began, Luke spent his days in the hotel studying various modern knowledge and naturally crossed over to Westeros at night to handle matters there!
During the dayti he frequently exchanged ssages and video calls with "Mia."
Mia had just finished showering and was completely naked, wiping her body while video-calling Luke: "Luke, I miss you so much. You took my first ti, so you have to date !"
Luke couldn't help sighing at how perfect the girl's figure was. He rolled over, fantasizing that if she started an OnlyFans, she would definitely be top-tier among the top-tier!
"Of course, I'm willing to be your boyfriend! Didn't we already agree on that night…"
"Then you have to call every day. I miss you every single day!"
…
Besides Mia, Alexandra Daddario and Jennifer Connelly also kept in frequent contact with him, sending flirty, ambiguous ssages and even so extrely bold photos to tease him.
On the Westeros side, the business of "Luke's Estate" was thriving.
He had bought another set of houses right next to Luke's Estate and recruited another fifty young n!
They all had sallow complexions from long-term malnutrition, but their limbs were intact, with no obvious defects or infectious diseases.
Not counting the rcenaries, together with the previous ten young n this brought the total to sixty.
He divided them into six squads of ten n each.
The treatnt Luke offered them: full coverage of food, clothing, housing, and transportation; twenty silver coins per month; a settling-in bonus of one hundred silver coins; a death benefit of five thousand silver coins; and Luke would raise their children until adulthood. In addition, they would receive a bounty of one hundred silver coins for every enemy they killed for him!
They were to serve Luke and the "Jaqenion family" for twenty-five years without the slightest betrayal!
Furthermore, their monthly salary would increase by two silver coins for every year of service…
The contracts were printed on A4 paper, black and white, each including a "color portrait" of the individual.
Every contract bore Luke's and the "party concerned"'s handwritten signature and thumbprint — two copies each!
Although many couldn't read the full text, the solemn formality made them vaguely sense that this was more than a re verbal promise.
Especially the expensive "A4 paper" and "color personal photos" shocked everyone. They repeatedly exclaid, "By the Seven!"
…
King's Landing remained as lively as ever.
But on Rhaenys's Hill, Luke's Estate and the newly purchased neighboring courtyard exuded an unusual sense of order.
Luke, wearing a dark, easy-to-move outfit, stood on the temporarily leveled open ground in the new courtyard, looking at the sixty new recruits of the "Jaqenion family."
Most ca from the slums or bankrupt farming families. Their faces were sallow from long-term malnutrition, but their eyes mixed hunger for steady als, a trace of confusion about the future, and humble gratitude at having been chosen.
To the lowest strata of Westeros, Luke's offered terms were like ascending to heaven in a single step!
Stable food, clothing, housing, and transport; monthly pay far exceeding that of ordinary soldiers; shockingly high settling-in bonuses and death benefits; even the promise to raise their children!
There was actually a "settling-in bonus" and "death benefit" — unheard of!!!
Soldiers got paid? Wasn't it supposed to be supported by loyalty and sentint alone?
"Attention!"
Luke's voice wasn't particularly loud, but it carried an unquestionable clarity.
He personally demonstrated the movents he had copied from Blue Star military training.
"Head up, chest out, stomach in, eyes forward! Heels together, toes apart about sixty degrees! Arms naturally at your sides, middle fingers touching the trouser seams!"
"Report, m'lord!"
"Speak!"
"What's a trouser seam?"
"Trouser seam…"
The recruits clumsily imitated him, their postures crooked and awkward.
Luke patiently corrected them one by one.
The drill was unbearably monotonous: "Attention," "At ease," "Left face," "Right face," "Count off"… repeated over and over.
Sweat began to bead on the young n's foreheads, but none dared complain.
The "contract" and the twenty silver coins per month acted like invisible whips — and sweet bait.
Bronn stood with arms crossed, leaning against a newly built low wall nearby, a grass stem in his mouth, his face openly skeptical and lazy.
"I say, Luke."
He waited until Luke had the recruits start a "standing at attention" competition — with the longest holder winning fifty silver coins — before strolling over.
"Where did you learn this thod? From so maester, or so exotic trick from across the Narrow Sea? Making them stand there like wooden posts — what good does it do? Will it stop a Dothraki arakh or a Lannister lance?"
Luke watched the recruits gritting their teeth, bodies trembling slightly, and answered calmly: "Bronn, this isn't about turning them into sword masters overnight. This is the first step in 'Heavenly Dragon' training for new recruits — discipline."
"Discipline?"
Bronn snorted.
"Beat them with sticks, whip them, chop off the head of any deserter who runs when the enemy charges — that's the best discipline."
"That's fear, not discipline," Luke shook his head.
"What I want is for them to get used to obeying orders, even when the orders seem aningless; to maintain basic formation in chaos instead of charging wildly or scattering. To turn their bodies and wills from loose civilians into controllable tools. Standing at attention trains exactly that — staying motionless and following commands under the simplest, most boring, and most uncomfortable conditions."
Bronn raised an eyebrow, seeming mildly intrigued but still unconvinced: "Sounds like so septon's trick. Still, you're the employer — your call. My lads will teach them sword and shield this afternoon. That's the real stuff."
"Correct," Luke nodded. "I'll trouble you and your brothers this afternoon. Start with the most basic grip, footwork, and blocking — no flashy moves. I want soldiers who can survive and kill on the battlefield, not duel champions."
"I'm good at that," Bronn grinned, showing yellow teeth.
"As long as your silver is bright enough, I guarantee I'll train them… at least well enough to scare timid rcenaries."
Luke watched the attention competition a while longer, pointing out a few who were obviously slacking or breaking posture, then told Bronn: "Leave this to you. Once you have a winner, let them eat lunch and rest. You take charge of the sword training this afternoon. Rember — safety first. I don't want casualties before they even reach the battlefield."
"Relax, Luke. They'll see blood sooner or later, but not dying for no reason on my training ground." Bronn waved him off.
Luke left the recruit training field and returned to the main estate.
Steward Arthur was waiting at the study door, holding a roll of parchnt.
"M'lord, here are the detailed accounts for this month's 'Ice Crystal Honey' and 'Magic Goblet,' plus the summary of new orders from the first batch of cooperating rchants who have returned."
"Also, Lord Petyr Baelish has sent an invitation. He asks you to attend a small salon he is holding at the Red Keep tomorrow evening."
Arthur reported ticulously. His wife Carola stood slightly behind him, eyes lowered, yet her stunning beauty still shone through.
Their daughter Michelle peeked curiously from the end of the corridor.
Luke took the accounts, glanced over them, and noted the net inco was steady at around five thousand gold dragons per day — not counting the wholesale profits to the rchants.
In less than three months, three hundred thousand gold dragons. In Westeros, this speed was practically printing money.
Petyr's invitation… was worth pondering.
This "Littlefinger" had a sharp nose. He had surely noticed Luke's recent expansion of his guard force and wanted a closer look — or perhaps a new "cooperation" proposal.
"Reply to Lord Baelish that I will attend on ti," Luke instructed, then asked, "Where are Emma and Annie?"
"The two young ladies are preparing hot water for your bath and fresh clothes," Arthur answered calmly.
But Luke could sense the steward's complicated feelings about his daughters becoming Luke's personal maids — both seeing it as an opportunity and feeling inevitable worry.
Luke nodded and headed to his bedroom.
Passing a window, he glanced at King's Landing's gray sky.
On Blue Star, an auction involving hundreds of millions of dollars was about to begin; here, his newly started private ard force and ever-expanding business network were also at a critical growth stage.
Ti was tight.
He had to ensure Westeros's foundation was solid and could continue providing support before the Blue Star wealth was safely in hand. These new recruits were one of the future cornerstones.
Discipline, loyalty, combat effectiveness… he needed ti to forge them slowly.
Soaking in the steaming, spice-scented bath, Luke closed his eyes and let Emma and Annie gently wash and massage him, washing away the fatigue from shuttling between worlds and training recruits.
The sisters' movents were careful, shy, and full of adoration. Luke enjoyed this brief peace, but his mind was racing.
The Blue Star auction, Westeros's business and military buildup, and those fiery Arican girls… life had suddenly beco unusually "full."
He needed more precise ti managent and clearer long-term planning.
"M'lord, is the water getting cold? Shall I add more hot water?" Annie's soft voice sounded beside his ear.
"No need, it's fine like this."
Luke opened his eyes, smiled at her, and saw the girl's cheeks flush.
His heart stirred. He pulled the two sisters straight into the bath!
"Ah~" ×2
…
Rising from the bath, drying off, and changing into comfortable clothes.
Luke told the sisters: "I'll rest for a while. Wake for dinner. Also, tell Arthur that before I et Lord Baelish tomorrow, I want to see the rchant representatives who returned from across the Narrow Sea first."
"Yes, m'lord."
The sisters answered in unison, supporting each other… shakily leaving the room.
Luke lay on the bed and set an alarm.
He needed to seize the ti to rest. At five in the morning he would return to his New York hotel room and make final preparations for the world-watched diamond auction.
Two worlds, two lives, interwoven on a schedule precise to the minute.
The fatigue was real, but the exhilarating sense of controlling destiny and creating legends was an unmatched driving force.
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