The door was pushed open gently, and Corleone and Yigo walked in, led by the attendant.
Corleone's steps were steady. His gaze first swept over the study filled with account books, and finally landed on the dwarf burying his head in work in the chair.
"Good day, Lord Tyrion."
"Oh... it's Lord Corleone."
Hearing his voice, Tyrion looked up as if waking from a dream. "Please wait a moment longer, I just need to finish the matter at hand."
Hearing this, Corleone glanced at the document held upside down in Tyrion's hand but didn't point it out. He just nodded slightly, "Please, take your time. I have plenty of patience, my Lord."
With that, he found a chair on his own and sat down casually. His posture was calm and elegant, as if he didn't consider himself an outsider at all.
Tyrion saw this. He pretended to be busy for a long time, but seeing that Corleone showed not a trace of impatience or intention to leave, he knew clearly that he couldn't dodge this matter today.
"Ahem..."
Clearing his throat, Tyrion put down the "work" in his hand but didn't stand up.
"Please forgive my poor hospitality. Things have been really busy these days, heigh-ho..."
"How long has it been since I went to the Street of Silk, Bronn? Two weeks?"
"Seventeen days, my Lord."
Bronn, who was getting paid, cooperated very well, bowing at the right time. "I bet those girls must miss you very much."
"Has it been that long?"
Hearing this, Tyrion spread his hands and smiled at Corleone, "You see, I'm almost dizzy from being busy."
Looking at his pretentious posture, Corleone's expression remained flat. He even took the initiative to comfort him, "The wedding of the King and House Tyrell is very important. It's normal to be busy."
"It will be better after this period passes. When the time comes, let's go to the Street of Silk to relax together. It's on me."
"Hahaha, that would be great!"
Tyrion laughed heartily, but then turned to look out the window, pretending to be regretful. "It looks like it's getting dark. It's a pity I have an appointment with someone today, otherwise I think we should have dinner together, Lord Corleone."
"How about this, let's make an appointment another day. Podrick, see off..."
"My Lord!"
But before he could finish speaking, he was interrupted by Corleone.
Good grief, I knew this kid was cunning, but I didn't expect him to not even plan on giving me a chance to speak.
Truly shameless!
Corleone thought to himself. Since transmigrating, this was the first time he had almost lost the upper hand before a conversation even started. It really proved the old saying: When a man is shameless, he is invincible.
"I will only delay you for a few minutes. I absolutely won't delay your dinner."
To prevent this dwarf from putting him off again, Corleone stated his purpose very quickly, "In the Riverlands, I saved your brother Ser Jaime's life. In return, he promised me a bathtub full of gold dragons."
"Yesterday I met with the Hand of the King. He told me that I could cash in the promise here with you."
"A Lannister always pays his debts. I came precisely for this reputation."
Speaking in one breath, Corleone finally stopped.
Hearing this, Tyrion cursed inwardly: Sure enough, this guy really is here to ask for money!
"My Lord, the Lannisters will engrave the kindness of you bringing Jaime back in our hearts."
He sighed and spat out the prepared rhetoric, "Honestly, Jaime and I are connected by blood. I can't tell you how happy I am to see him come back alive. A bathtub of gold dragons, this price is quite reasonable."
"But..."
Saying this, Tyrion rubbed his forehead vigorously, showing an overwhelmed and troubled look. "I'm not afraid to tell you the truth, Lord Corleone. The Iron Throne owes a huge debt of a full six million gold dragons!"
"House Tyrell, the Iron Bank, and even the Faith are chasing debts... The City Watch is waiting for wages, the ruins left by the Battle of the Blackwater need to be rebuilt, the daily expenses of the Royal Family, plus King Joffrey's wedding..."
He opened his arms, pointing bitterly at the account books around him that were like city walls. "A Lannister indeed always pays his debts, but reputation needs gold to pave the way."
"But now, Lord Corleone, there is nothing under my feet."
Facing the dwarf's complaints, Corleone just listened quietly, the gentle smile on his face never fading.
After he finished speaking, Corleone spoke slowly and very reasonably, "I understand your difficulties as the Master of Coin very well, my Lord."
"I have also heard a little about the Royal Family's financial crisis these days."
As soon as these words came out, Tyrion raised his eyebrows, thinking that his "excellent acting skills" had moved the other party.
However, Corleone changed the subject, "But I also have my own difficulties. I just took over Flea Bottom. You know the environment there very well. To govern and improve it, everything needs gold dragons to pave the way."
"In other words, I need money, now."
Hearing this, Tyrion's face darkened, and he winked at Bronn.
The sellsword leaning against the wall saw this and took a step forward very timely, speaking self-righteously, "But the Jaime Lannister you brought back is incomplete, my Lord!"
"What did you say?" Hearing him say this, Corleone couldn't help frowning slightly.
"I'm just stating the market laws. Good things get good prices; defective goods naturally have to be sold at a discount."
Bronn spread his palm and made a cutting motion with his other hand. "A top knight missing his sword hand is like a horse with a lame leg. The name sounds loud, but if you really drag it to the market to sell, I don't think many people will pay a high price."
Saying this, he winked at Corleone, seeming to provoke him.
"Watch your language, Bronn!"
The corner of Tyrion's mouth couldn't help rising, but he still immediately slapped the table and shouted in a blaming tone, "You are talking about my brother, not livestock in the market!"
Then he turned to Corleone, his face full of helplessness. "Please don't take offense, my Lord. He has always lacked breeding."
"However..."
He paused, then spoke as if embarrassed, "He did point out a practical problem we have to face, didn't he?"
"Maybe we need to reconsider whether the promise of a bathtub of gold dragons can be discounted a little?"
"How about... half?"
Tyrion asked tentatively.
At this time, Bronn beside him began to chime in, "Half is not a small amount, kid."
"In these times, getting cash is the hard truth. How many people's debts rot in the account books without even a sound?"
"Taking half home and living a stable life is much better than risking your life for the full share."
His tone was contemptuous, raising his chin to look at Corleone, full of provocation.
Seeing these two playing "good cop, bad cop," Corleone didn't refute immediately. He just sat quietly, constantly weighing in his mind.
"Half... I can accept."
After a silence, he spoke slowly. His deep black eyes looked at Tyrion seriously. "I never mind making concessions in business, and I am keen on it because I hope to see a situation where everyone benefits."
"But I also have my bottom line, Lord Tyrion. That is... I demand to see that half of the gold dragons now, and take them away."
His words were logical, neither humble nor arrogant. He considered the other party while firmly defending his principles.
No anger, no threats, just stating a very simple and easy-to-understand truth.
Even at the end, Corleone very thoughtfully added the effect of [Presence Lv. 2].
Aura fully unleashed, a look of surprise flashed across Tyrion's eyes.
He originally thought this guy was just an ordinary person with explosive luck, but he didn't expect Corleone to have such clear thinking and such calm bearing.
Even to the point of giving Tyrion the illusion that he was facing his father, Tywin.
But even so, he hurriedly recovered, took a deep breath, and the expression on his face became even more painful.
"I'm sorry, Lord Corleone, I cannot agree to your request."
He shook his head and spoke in a very helpless tone, "To be honest, the treasury of the Iron Throne has been empty since the Battle of the Blackwater, and we are about to face an extremely luxurious wedding."
"So this money..."
Speaking of this, even with Tyrion's thick skin, he felt he couldn't go on.
"Give me a number."
But contrary to his expectations, Corleone still didn't roar in anger. There wasn't even a trace of emotional fluctuation in his voice.
"Within your authority, how much money can you take out now?"
He stared straight at Tyrion, making the dwarf feel a little creeped out, but he still braced himself and said, "This is a difficult decision, Lord Corleone."
"What I can squeeze out for you now is only... one thousand gold dragons!"
"This is the limit. The rest can only be paid after the kingdom's financial situation improves!"
"This is my final decision, and the greatest sincerity I can offer!"
He said it all in one breath, as if exhausting all his strength, collapsing back into the chair, but his eyes were fixed on Corleone, observing his reaction.
After all, no matter what, this was almost an insulting offer.
Getting this answer, Corleone didn't speak. He just sat in the chair with his chin slightly tucked, his pitch-black eyes staring at Tyrion.
This demeanor made Bronn mistakenly think he was silently threatening them.
Well, the deal fell through. Time to get physical.
"One thousand gold dragons, cash!"
The sellsword stood up very dutifully, one hand on his sword hilt, pressing towards Corleone, a sneer on his face. "Take it, walk out this door, and the matter is settled."
"Don't hold on to it, otherwise I'm afraid you won't even be able to take these one thousand gold dragons, and you'll have to leave something else behind..."
The threat in his words was very obvious. However, just when he was less than five steps away from Corleone, a tall and strong figure rushed up quickly, blocking between them.
"Back off, Sheep Man!"
His longsword was half unsheathed, a beast-like growl coming from his throat. Then he turned his head and asked, "Kill them, Blood of my Blood?"
Corleone didn't answer immediately. However, Bronn narrowed his eyes, his right hand on the sword hilt, his left hand quietly reaching for his back to draw a dagger.
In this tense atmosphere, a hand landed on Yigo's shoulder.
Then, Corleone's serious face appeared behind him.
Without any words, just a small movement, the angry Dothraki warrior released the hand holding the sword.
This absolute control surprised Tyrion, who was sitting behind the table, even more.
It was like... a King commanding his Kingsguard!
"Lord Tyrion."
For the first time, Corleone paced towards the Master of Coin. As he passed Bronn, he turned his head and gave him a deep look.
Coming to the desk, looking down at the dwarf, there was no contempt in Corleone's eyes, but his pitch-black eyes were like layers of mountains, making it impossible to see what he was thinking.
"I understand. You must act from the position of the Master of Coin. I also saw the ability you showed as a member of the Small Council. It's excellent."
He paused slightly, showing politeness and breeding beyond all nobles.
"So, alright."
"I accept the number you proposed."
This sentence exceeded everyone's expectations. Even Bronn was stunned for a moment.
Tyrion was also stunned, then his first reaction was to think that Corleone chose to swallow this bitter pill, and a trace of imperceptible pride flashed in his eyes.
However, Corleone did not turn and leave, but spoke again: "But..."
Changing the subject, his tone began to gradually become serious and formal, every word carrying weight: "Please understand, my Lord."
"I accept it not because I agree with your approach, and certainly not because I fear your... guard who is 'good at negotiation skills'."
His gaze swept over Bronn. That look was calm and ripple-less, yet it made the battle-hardened old sellsword feel a chill.
"I accept it simply because I respect that in the position of Master of Coin, you made the 'best' judgment based on the information you hold and the position you are in."
"But..."
Corleone emphasized his tone once again: "I made concessions repeatedly. I chose to solve this problem peacefully, but you were unwilling to establish a friendship with me."
"I will remember it. I hope you can remember it too, Lord Tyrion."
"Because the next time we meet, I believe you will not say 'no' to me again."
"And that day will come very soon."
With that, Corleone wasted no more words. He turned slightly sideways, made a simple gesture to Yigo, then turned and strode...
Away.
The whole process was smooth and flowing, without the slightest hesitation or reluctance.
The black cloak rose and fell, as if putting a rest to this extremely unequal negotiation, but not a full stop.
"Just let it go like this, Blood of my Blood?"
Following his footsteps, Yigo asked unwillingly, "Let Rorge find out where that kid lives. I'll sneak in tonight and cut off his head!"
"Relax, Blood of my Blood."
Hearing this, Corleone said in a deep voice, "We will definitely get our money back, very soon."
"Because I'm going to make him an offer he can't refuse."