February 1, 2026. 298 AC, February 1. South shore of the God's Eye, Draco City.
Jaqenion Avenue had already beco the most prosperous place on the south shore of the God's Eye—and indeed across the entire Riverlands.
This was no exaggeration.
From the old town of White Stone Town to the new construction site at Dragon Rise Terrace, both sides of this straight, wide bluestone avenue were now lined with shops and alive with the clamor of crowds.
Eight carriages could travel abreast on the road surface, and the "keep right" rule was strictly observed by everyone.
It wasn't that everyone suddenly understood traffic planning—it was simply that the patrol teams' fines hurt too much to ignore.
Yet what shocked the Westerosi natives most was not the avenue's width, nor the distinctive architecture, but the shops themselves.
A brand-new sales philosophy. A comrcial model never seen before.
At both the eastern and western ends of the avenue stood two enormous shops, each bearing the sa signboard: "Draco Supermarket."
Any Earth person standing there would have recognized it instantly: Holy shit, these are chain stores!
Stepping inside a supermarket felt like entering a new world for the Westerosi.
The space was vast, the goods abundant and neatly categorized.
Daily necessities section, tools and farming section, fruits and vegetables section, at and grains section, oils and staples section… everything was there.
Most importantly: fixed prices, high quality at low cost—cheaper than the haggling rchants at the market stalls.
Every item had a small wooden tag beside it with the price clearly written. It was not the usual negotiable "asking price" but a firm, non-negotiable price.
You could take the goods to the checkout counter and pay, or leave empty-handed—no one would chase after you trying to sell.
The supermarket also had separate entrance and exit doors, with unified checkout counters. Staff at the entrance guided custors, while staff at the exit verified goods and paynts.
For people accustod to bargaining at markets and constantly fearing they would be cheated, this shopping experience felt like a dream.
Currently, both supermarkets saw more than three thousand custors daily. On rest days, foot traffic surged toward ten thousand.
Today was a rest day.
A group of won in clean new clothes walked over from the distance, chattering excitedly.
"Did you hear? Pork is on sale at the supermarket today!" "I heard! I brought a basket on purpose so I can buy extra and pickle it." "Oh no, I forgot my coupon!" One woman slapped her forehead, then cheerfully pulled a slip of paper from her bosom with a triumphant "Versailles" tone. "Good thing I have this… my husband worked hard at the construction site and the foreman gave him a reward! Twenty-copper discount voucher!"
The others looked at her with open envy.
At the supermarket entrance they paused, drawn first to the shops beside it.
Flanking the supermarket were rows of clean, tidy restaurants and milk-tea shops. Draco Pork Rice, self-serve fast food, roast-at stalls, noodle shops… every doorway had a queue.
But the real eye-catchers were the shops with the strangest nas:
"McDonald's." "KFC." "Mixue Ice Cream & Tea." "Luckin Coffee."
Especially "Mixue Ice Cream & Tea"!
A giant snowman mascot was handing out flyers on the sidewalk, trying to lure custors.
The mascot clumsily wiggled its body while a strange black box beside it looped an addictive, magical lody—MIXUE icecream & tea:
"I love you, you love , Mixue Ice Cream sweet as can be You love , I love you, Mixue Ice Cream sweet as can be"
The lyrics were in the Common Tongue of Westeros (English). The sound was clear and loud; anyone who ca close was instantly drawn in.
Countless passersby stopped to stare in astonishnt. They had never seen a black box that could sing, nor such a huge dancing "snowman."
A little girl clung tightly to her father's leg, eyes fixed on the snowman mascot, shouting, "Daddy, Daddy! I want milk tea! I want the milk tea in the snowman's hand!"
The young father glanced awkwardly at his wife.
His wife put on a stern face. "Ella, stop making a fuss! The cheapest milk tea costs six coppers. We already bought you candy at the supermarket—don't be greedy! Mixue milk tea is for rich people and knights!"
Ella's little mouth pouted, tears welling in her eyes.
The father's heart softened. He picked her up, fished six coppers from his pocket, and looked at his wife hopefully. "Today is our sweetest Ella's birthday… can we buy her one cup? Just one."
He added, "Tomorrow is payday again, and Lord Luke never delays wages."
The wife looked at her husband and daughter's expectant faces and relented with a sigh. "Just this once. Otherwise we're never bringing Ella to the supermarket again. We agreed we're saving to buy a house in the Garden District—if you keep spending like this, when will we ever have enough?"
Husband and daughter cheered in delight, as if they had defeated the great demon queen known as Mom.
The father carried his daughter toward Mixue Ice Cream & Tea. Ella, perched on his shoulder, stuck out her tongue and made a victorious face at her mother.
The wife could only smile helplessly.
Besides the supermarkets and restaurants, Jaqenion Avenue was lined with countless other shops.
Clothing stores displayed every style of new garnt—from coarse linen for commoners to fine hemp robes for nobles.
These clothes were polyester-fiber garnts from factories on Earth—high quality at low prices.
Fruit stalls displayed seasonal produce from across the Riverlands, plus oranges shipped from Dorne.
Taverns wafted the aroma of ale; they were already full even before nightfall.
But the most eye-catching were the shop types never before heard of in Westeros.
Massage parlors. Foot-washing houses. Bathhouses.
…
"Elixir Pressure House," "Royal Bonesetter," "Lady's Chamber of Relief," "The Unbroken Back" (ironic effect), "The Squire's Suds"…
The massage parlors had increasingly bizarre nas, yet every doorway had a long queue.
The bathhouses were even more crowded.
"The Knight's Scour," "The Iron Loofah" (humorous exaggeration), "The Beggar's Buff," "The Guild of Gri"… These establishnts offered every level of bathing service, from simple hot-water rinses to full-body scrubs and massages, with prices ranging from cheap to expensive to suit every pocket.
Because Lord Luke had enacted new public and personal hygiene ordinances, everyone in the territory now loved bathing.
Giving off a bad odor in public was genuinely sothing people would mock you for.
These new businesses had created a large number of high-paying jobs.
Masseuses, scrubbers, foot-washers… professions that had never existed before were now in high demand.
Of course, Luke had not left them unregulated.
He had issued specific decrees governing these industries: operators must be licensed, must undergo regular health checks, and must maintain strict hygiene. Violators faced heavy fines.
As evening fell, Jaqenion Avenue reached its true peak.
It was already a rest day, so the crowds were large to begin with.
But once work ended, the entire street exploded with life.
Lord Luke had one rule: work six days, receive one paid rest day.
Overti required the worker's consent and paid triple wages.
Daily work hours could not exceed eight. Overti on workdays paid double and was limited to two hours maximum.
Every employer and worker had to sign a formal "labor contract" and wages had to be paid on ti.
Violating any of these rules was a serious offense.
When the rule was first announced, many rchants from other territories scoffed… giving mud-footed peasants such generous treatnt? He must be mad!
But they soon discovered they had no choice but to comply.
Lord Luke's patrol teams conducted regular inspections. Anyone caught violating the rules faced fines that could bankrupt them.
Moreover, the workers who enjoyed these benefits worked with genuine enthusiasm.
They knew that such a lord existed nowhere else in Westeros. To squander his goodwill would be asking to be struck by lightning.
Right now, off-duty workers poured onto the streets in groups, flooding into the taverns.
"The Drunken Knight," "The Rusty Sword," "The Baron's Barrel," "The Enchanted Stein," "The Cobbler's Cup," "Moonlight Tavern"…
Especially "Moonlight Tavern"—the true "top stream" of the south shore of the God's Eye. It was absolutely packed!
This tavern had a "magic music box." Whenever it was open, it played beautiful background music.
Anyone who knew the songs would recognize that every single BGM ca from a ga called DNF.
The the song was the Moonlight Tavern BGM from DNF. The drinks here were expensive—the cheapest ale cost a full silver coin.
This tavern belonged to the "Royal Oak Brewing Company" brand. Here you could find every "magical liquor" Lord Luke had introduced: Dragonfla, brandy, champagne, and more.
Tyrion Lannister the Imp and Prince Oberyn Martell of Dorne had both thrown away small fortunes here and had not left for three straight days…
In short, the tavern nas along Jaqenion Avenue were all over the place, but business at every one was booming.
Drunkards splashed money around inside, talking big and loud.
"I'm telling you, Lord Luke is a living god! I've been scraping by for twenty years and I've never seen a lord this good!" "Exactly! Pays wages on ti, gives rest days, and triple pay for overti! Back in my old count's lands, you were lucky if he paid once a year." "Giving you work is already a blessing—now you want wages too?" "Co on, a toast to Lord Luke!" "To Lord Luke!"
Amid the clinking of cups, soone began daydreaming about the future.
"What do you think Westeros will beco? The way Draco is growing, it'll surpass King's Landing sooner or later!" "No doubt about it! King's Landing is filthy—horse shit everywhere. Here, everything's clean and we even have sanitation workers sweeping up the manure." "I heard real estate is going to be the pillar industry! Anyone with money should buy a house now—the price is definitely going up later!" "Pfft, keep dreaming. Houses going up in price? What's the point if you live in it?" "You don't get it! You can sell it! Buy for fifteen gold dragons now, sell for thirty in a few years—one flip and you make fifteen gold dragons. That's way better than hauling bricks on the construction site!" "Sounds nice… so did you buy one?" "I… I'm still saving for the down paynt."
Laughter erupted as the conversation drifted elsewhere.
As night deepened, Jaqenion Avenue remained brightly lit.
The massage parlors and bathhouses were just getting started.
Workers who had toiled all day could spend a few coppers for a professional massage or a relaxing hot bath.
In the past, that had been a luxury only noble lords could afford.
Now, it was sothing every resident of Draco could enjoy.
Luke stood at the high point of Dragon Rise Terrace, looking down at the brilliantly lit avenue.
Arthur stood behind him, holding a thick stack of docunts.
"My lord, this is this week's new shop registration list. Forty-seven in total—fifteen food-and-beverage, twenty-three service-oriented, nine retail."
Luke nodded without turning around.
Arthur continued, "The 'company system' you ntioned earlier—so rchants have already co to inquire. They want to establish formal 'companies' to take on larger projects. For example, three construction teams have expressed interest in bidding on the lord's residence project."
The corner of Luke's mouth curved upward.
The company system was a new policy he had introduced.
rchants could register and form "companies" with independent legal person status, allowing them to sign contracts, hire employees, and assu limited liability.
This was unprecedented in Westeros… previously there had only been guilds and individual rchants; the concept of a "company" had never existed.
He had already established a new administrative departnt—the "Departnt of Comrce, Trade, and Market Regulation"—responsible for company registration and market oversight.
State-owned enterprises had already taken root. Now it was ti to let private enterprises take the stage.
As for banks…
Luke gazed at the distant lights, lost in thought.
Real estate was already taking off; more and more people were buying houses.
But most could not pay in full and had to use installnt plans.
That required an institution to provide loans, manage funds, and handle transactions.
A bank was inevitable.
But establishing a bank was far more complicated than opening a few supermarkets.
It required credibility, reserves, and a complete legal frawork.
One misstep could trigger a financial disaster.
Luke took a deep breath.
Take it slow.
Draco had already taken its first step—a step never before seen in all of Westeros.
The road ahead could be walked more steadily.
He turned to Arthur. "Tomorrow, gather all the rchants interested in forming companies. I will personally explain to them what a 'limited liability company' is."
Arthur bowed respectfully. "Yes, my lord."
The night wind blew across Dragon Rise Terrace, carrying the moist scent of the God's Eye.
In the distance, Jaqenion Avenue still blazed with lights. Faintly, the addictive song from Mixue Ice Cream & Tea could still be heard:
"You love , I love you, Mixue Ice Cream sweet as can be~"
Luke couldn't help smiling.
Copyright infringent? Infringent of what?
This was Westeros.
Could Mixue Ice Cream & Tea, KFC, McDonald's, or Luckin Coffee co all the way to Westeros to sue him for "infringent"?
Here, he was the Celestial Dragon.
He could do whatever he wanted! So many modern things could simply be brought over directly—no need to rack his brain…
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