Jaqen H'ghar, a Faceless Man from the House of Black and White.
What agreements existed between the Sealord and the House of Black and White, or what deals had been made, Jaqen had no interest in.
He treated this as he would any other task, simply completing the mission.
Assassinating Viserys, a target surrounded by a great army and heavily guarded, would be a daunting task for any assassin.
But for Jaqen, it was hardly more difficult than reaching into a pouch to retrieve a shiny gold coin.
Wearing someone else's face was second nature to him. He was one of the few master assassins capable of molding a "mask" on the spot.
This special skill was rare even within the House of Black and White, possessed by only a select few.
Although Jaqen had brought several "masks" from the House of Black and White for backup and escape purposes, as a master assassin capable of on-site molding, he used his ability to take on a soldier's face to gather intelligence.
That was Viserys's tent.
Looking at the massive tent surrounded by layers of guards, encircled by dozens of white-cloaked warriors, Jaqen clicked his tongue secretly. It seemed indeed somewhat tricky.
But all men must die.
Viserys was no exception.
It was just not his time yet.
Jaqen silently observed the number of guards, then turned to leave.
Whether Braavos would perish or not, Jaqen didn't care. To him, this had no direct relation to his mission.
Perhaps on the day someone claimed victory, they would lower their guard.
"You know, this is the first time I've realized I'm this handsome."
Jaqen raised his head, a flicker of astonishment passing through his usually calm eyes.
In front of him, the soldier he had killed was now aiming a crossbow at him with a look of mockery.
"Remember? I'm a player. I told you the password myself. Now I'll tell you the countersign: You are not."
[Skeleton Grunt] also held a crossbow, slowly aiming it at Jaqen.
"What's going on!"
The commotion attracted the attention of the White Cloaks, who drew their swords and coordinated their movements to surround Jaqen.
Everyone was a player, and the game IDs above their heads were clear proof. The only person without a game ID confronting a player... their identity was self-evident.
"Assassin. A special assassin who can take off other people's faces," the player [Rice Is Steel], whom Jaqen had killed once, said slowly while holding his crossbow.
"Take him down!"
The White Cloak squad leader, [Centurion], ordered sternly.
As the most disciplined group among the players, the White Cloaks didn't hesitate for a moment, stepping forward to capture the assassin before them.
Jaqen didn't resist. He was a master assassin, not a warrior capable of fighting ten thousand men. He couldn't possibly escape from a group of fully armed warriors.
Jaqen's expression returned to its calm state. He glanced casually at [Rice Is Steel] and uttered a sentence with profound meaning:
"Valar Dohaeris." (All men must serve.)
"Take him away. Hand him over to those Gestapo guys." [Centurion] walked up to Jaqen, stared for a moment, reached out, and actually peeled off the other person's "face."
Replacing it was an old, ordinary, wrinkled face. [Centurion] waved his hand, ordering his men to take the person away.
As for himself, he needed to see the King to explain the situation. [Rice Is Steel] and [Skeleton Grunt] followed behind him.
Having established merit, if they didn't show their faces to the leader, wouldn't it be in vain?
If Jaqen could see, he would have discovered that not only were there layers of guards outside Viserys's tent, but even inside, there were seven or eight fully armed White Cloaks standing guard.
Kingsguard Jorah stood inseparable behind His Grace the King.
"Assassin?" Honestly, there were plenty of people trying to assassinate Viserys.
But facts had proven that his intelligence assistant, who doubled as the head of the secret police, led a group of "special agents" who were not just freeloaders. Countless assassins had been played like fiddles by them.
The few assassins who managed to get close to Viserys would be immediately rooted out by the White Cloaks.
In their eyes, anyone without a game ID who wasn't an NPC they recognized was a person with ill intent, and none were allowed to approach the great King Viserys.
The True Dragon was not to be offended.
After listening to the descriptions of the three players, Viserys roughly understood the identity of the assassin.
Most likely a Faceless Man.
Right, as the most important gathering place for the Faceless Men, the House of Black and White was located in Braavos.
"No need to interrogate him; you won't get anything out of him. Go tell the secret police to kill him directly. Remember, chop off his limbs and his head, and finally burn him to ashes with Wildfire."
Viserys knew well that if you cut the grass without removing the roots, it would grow again in the spring wind. The sense of mystery "Jaqen" brought him when watching the show in his previous life clearly affected Viserys.
That feeling of being able to successfully assassinate anyone he wanted made Viserys very uneasy about having a Faceless Man alive nearby.
"As you command, Your Grace!" [Centurion] placed his hand over his heart, then turned to leave and carry out the order.
Viserys was not stingy with rewards for the two players, [Rice Is Steel] and [Skeleton Grunt].
He granted them Gold Dragons, Kingdom Coins, and four Bronze Treasure Chests on the spot.
Having received the rewards they wanted, the two players naturally withdrew with hearts full of joy.
Inside the temporary prison of the military camp, [Pointing-Rat-Calling-It-Duck] curiously peeled off another one of Jaqen's faces.
"How about a deal? You teach me your skills, and I'll go easy on you?"
[Pointing-Rat-Calling-It-Duck], jokingly called the Gestapo chief by the players, crossed his arms and looked at Jaqen, who was tied to a cross, speaking slowly.
"Not talking? Can't talk, or not afraid of death?" [Flying Bat], standing aside with a whip, shouted scoldingly.
These past few days, he had been acting as the loyal lackey, afraid that his boss would remember his "embezzlement of military pay" one day, strip him of everything, or even kick him out of the guild.
"Valar Morghulis. But it is not this one's time." (All men must die.)
[Pointing-Rat-Calling-It-Duck] had forgotten how many times he had heard this sentence.
"Fine. I've seen plenty of tough nuts, but this is the first time I've seen someone as stubborn as you. Come on, show this hero some moves."
[Pointing-Rat-Calling-It-Duck], arms crossed, shrugged with a look of regret, signaling his subordinates in charge of interrogation to give the guy some rough treatment.
"My Lord."
[Pointing-Rat-Calling-It-Duck] turned his head. The newcomer was none other than the White Cloak squad leader [Centurion]. Other players, regardless of status, would call him Brother Duck, Brother Rat, or Director/Chief, but the group of players who called him "My Lord"...
Seemed to be only this bunch of hardcore knight roleplayers.
"His Grace has ordered: no need for further interrogation. Execute him immediately. Chop off his limbs and head, and burn his corpse with Wildfire."
[Pointing-Rat-Calling-It-Duck] nodded and called out to his men:
"Do as Brother Wei ordered!"