Asoiaf: I Have a Wolverine Template

Chapter 11

Chapter 11: New Identity
...
Kevan Lannister POV

Four moons later...

"Twenty thousand gold dragons," I muttered, my fingers tracing the numbers in the document. It wasn't from the Lannister mines or taxes from a noble house, but from just one criminal group alone. A staggering fortune.

"He kept his word," I whispered to myself, a mix of surprise and wariness coloring my voice.

I stood before many chest filled to the brim with gold coins, their gleaming surfaces catching the faint torchlight. I was at the Lannisport vault, staring at the new chest brought in just this morning.

The deal I had made with the hooded man was already yielding benefits, though it brought with it a sense of unease. As I thought about him, complicated feelings surfaced. On the one hand, he was a constant thorn in my side. But on the other, his actions had systematically rooted out the most corrupt figures in Lannisport.

Over the past four moons, the hooded man and his organization had taken down individuals no one dared touch. The city guard captain, who had been working with a prominent merchant family, had fallen under his blade. That same family was involved in selling Westerlands' people into slavery, trading them either to the Iron Islands or across the sea to Essos.

The hooded man had rooted them all out—smugglers, corrupt officials, even noble houses that turned a blind eye to the suffering they caused. His ruthlessness was undeniable, but so were the results. The city was cleaner, though darker in the shadow of his presence.

I couldn't help but smile grimly as I reflected on my near-death experience four moons ago. The hooded man had come to me in the dead of night, his blade at my throat, and made an offer I couldn't refuse.

I had no choice but to accept.

How could I refuse when he'd slipped past every Lannister guard? He was a phantom, a man with the power to infiltrate even the most secure places. I wasn't a fool—I knew that working with him was dangerous. But the alternative was far worse.

Now, as I looked at the fortune his work had brought, I wondered how much longer this uneasy alliance would last. The hooded man was cleaning up the city, but at what cost? And more importantly, what would he ask of me next?
I locked the vault door behind me, the clink of the lock echoing softly in the quiet corridor. The hooded man—his influence was spreading through Lannisport faster than wildfire, but not all of it was terrible.

I could already see the changes, small at first, but unmistakable. There were food stalls now, serving strange new dishes that the common folk had taken to with zeal. "Hot dogs," they called one—a sausage wrapped in bread—and "hamburgers," another oddity with beef between two pieces of bread. And the pizza, my personal favorite. The aroma alone could make one's mouth water.

Despite the hooded man's shadowy rise to power, the Lionheart family, as they called themselves, had brought something unexpected: prosperity. In just four months, they'd paid more taxes than the wealthiest merchants had in ten years.

His word, it seemed, meant more than gold. No harm to innocents, no harm to innocent noble houses—those were the terms. And in exchange, his services were available to House Lannister, should they ever require his talents. He'd even told me how to reach him, with an eerie simplicity: "Speak to the children in the streets, and you'll find me."

I chuckled softly to myself. In truth, the deal had been far better than the alternative—my death. And now, I had a favor to repay.

As I crossed the courtyard, I saw the favor standing before me. A young man of fifteen name days, with golden hair and striking green eyes. He wore a full set of armor, though no helmet, and I watched as he swung his twin blades like a man possessed. His technique was... lacking. Wild, uncontrolled. But there was no denying his raw potential. He was fast, strong, and frighteningly agile. I'd already seen him knock two Lannister guards to the ground, and now four more were charging him.