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Jon Snow slept for a full 14 hours. When he woke up the next morning, his body was sore, and his head was dizzy.
He had another nightmare the night before, a long one, but most of it faded from his memory within seconds of opening his eyes.
He only remembered the final scene of the dream. He was standing in front of a mirror, and in the reflection, there was a monster trembling.
Shaking his head to rid himself of the disturbing images, Jon closed his eyes and logged into the system to check the daily settlement report, updated at midnight.
[Settlement report on the third day: Current number of remaining players: 96]
"Four players eliminated in the last three days, and three of them at my hands. You're unlucky to meet me," Jon muttered under his breath before scanning the rest of the system's contents.
After confirming that neither the main mission nor the bounty mission had been updated, he finally got up and called Rolle in the outhouse, as well as Keith, who had just returned, to join him for dinner.
After confirming with Jenny that no one in the hall was using long-range weapons, Jon walked into the dining area.
This morning's breakfast was far more ordinary than before: a piece of bacon, two fried eggs, and a pork pie.
As for the drink, Jon was relieved. Now that he had control of the inn, he no longer had to endure the morning ale as he had before. He had Martha prepare a cup of honey with boiled water instead.
Just as he was about to start his meal, Jon heard the sound of a prayer being offered at the nearby table by the traveling caravan.
Jenny had mentioned that the caravan arrived at the inn last night. There were 14 people in total, including a leader, three guards, and ten civilians.
A large group of them began praying, which made Jon feel uncomfortable sitting there alone, so he decided to join in the prayer.
"May our Heavenly Father judge us mercifully and forgive us for our human frailty."
"May Our Lady have mercy on us and save us from disaster."
"May the warriors grant us the strength and courage to defeat all enemies."
"May the girl spread her legs and relieve the fatigue of our journey." A discordant voice suddenly interrupted the sacred prayer.
Jon couldn't help but glance toward the source of the sound.
The person who spoke was a mercenary who had just entered. He wore a dirty, unwashed armed uniform and had black eyes, black hair, and a scruffy stubble. His build was lean, and he looked weary.
His companion wore a chainmail shirt with a hole, the origins of which were unclear—whether it had been taken from an enemy's corpse or handed down as a family heirloom.
The two men, clearly tired from their travels, swaggered in and quickly found a large table. One of them even stopped a waitress and began making unwanted advances.
"That's a good move," Rolle observed, watching the mercenary who had just entered, and whispered to Jon.
"How did you know?" Jon asked.
"Experience and intuition. I can feel the aura around him—he's as sly as a fox and as dangerous as a wolf." Rolle's expression was wary. He seemed to think the mercenary might pose a threat, even to him.
"Have you ever been a coach?" Jon suddenly remembered the 'advanced coach' information in Rolle's profile.
"During the war between the three sister city-states in the disputed land, I led new soldiers in Myr," Rolle admitted.
Jon Snow looked at Rolle and said, "You can train me when you have time."
Theoretically, Jon, having advanced his sword skills to an expert level, was already a strong fighter. But based on his previous combat experiences, he couldn't fully trust the system's data.
"When are you free?" Rolle asked.
"Any time," Jon replied. But then he stopped mid-sentence. He realized that while he was free, the inn wasn't the ideal place for training.
It would be impossible to train in such a small room, and training in the yard would only reveal to everyone that 'Sir Jon Snow' wasn't as skilled as his reputation suggested.
As a leader, Jon had to maintain his image. It wouldn't do to show any weakness, especially not in front of those who depended on him for food and safety.
Just then, Jon noticed Martha, the innkeeper, walking up to a mercenary and scolding him. "Bronn! You scoundrel! And you, Chiggen, when will you pay for the drinks from last time?"
Bronn? Jon's eyes widened. It was then that he realized the man's appearance and demeanor matched the description of Bronn from the original story. He hadn't made the connection right away, especially since Bronn in the show had left such a strong impression. But now, it clicked.
The thought immediately struck Jon: he could recruit Bronn!
This man was a rare talent—skilled in guarding, fighting, coaching, assassination, and reconnaissance. In the show, he even dared to use the dragon-hunting crossbow to take a shot at Dragon without being noticed.
In short, Bronn was one of the best swordsmen in the world, not the type of mercenary who bragged but a true professional.
Jon looked around the inn. If there were other players in the room, they might have the same idea. If someone tried to recruit Bronn first, Jon could easily have him subdued before anything serious happened.
After observing the room and finding no suspicious figures, Jon gave orders to Rolle and Keith, then stood up to approach Bronn. This way, even if a hidden player attempted something, Rolle and Keith would be quick to neutralize the threat.
As Martha continued to scold Bronn, Jon placed a silver deer on the table in front of the mercenary and smiled at Martha. "I'll pay for him."
Martha gave Jon a warning look and muttered under her breath, "This man's a scoundrel."
Jon silently agreed with her in his mind.
"Bless the gods, my good lord," Bronn said, ignoring Martha completely. He lifted his wine glass with one hand and pulled a woman sitting nearby onto his lap with the other.
"But you may have been cheated. One silver deer is the price of a virgin, just like her." He smirked at Jon with a hint of mockery in his voice.
When Bronn made the last remark, he winked at a young girl who was pouring wine at the table. The girl, startled, backed away, causing the entire tavern to burst into laughter.
"But I'm happy to pay a higher price for the things I like," Jon said casually, pulling out a golden dragon. "For example, if you're willing to be my attendant, this could be yours."
The laughter in the tavern abruptly ceased.