In Game of thrones with Sci fi Military system

Chapter 3:

Viserys paced furiously in the grand hall of Illyrio Mopatis' mansion, his face a mask of rage. His long silver hair was disheveled, and his violet eyes burned with fury.

"How dare he?" Viserys hissed, slamming his fist against a nearby table. The wooden surface groaned under the force of his blow. "That insolent wretch thinks he can just take what belongs to me? To the blood of the dragon?"

"Calm yourself, my dear prince," Illyrio said smoothly, his voice calm but his mind racing. He stroked his beard, his eyes narrowing as he recalled the strange weapon Alex had wielded.

"Calm myself?" Viserys whirled on the magister. "He humiliated me in front of everyone! He took my sister—my key to reclaiming the Iron Throne! And you want me to calm down?"

Illyrio raised a placating hand, his calculating mind already spinning scenarios. "This... Alex, as he called himself, is no ordinary man. Did you see the weapon he carried? It was like nothing I've ever encountered—no Valyrian steel, no Braavosi craftsmanship. It was... otherworldly."

"Who cares about his weapon?" Viserys spat. "Send your men after him. Kill him, and bring Daenerys back to me!"

Illyrio leaned back in his chair, his mind focused not on Viserys's tantrum but on the opportunity that Alex represented. A weapon like that could shift the balance of power in my favor, he thought. If I could capture him, learn his secrets...

"Prince Viserys," Illyrio said, his tone carefully measured, "this is no simple matter. Charging after him recklessly would only lead to unnecessary losses. We must be strategic."

Viserys sneered but said nothing, his chest heaving with barely contained fury.

"I'll send some of my best men to track him," Illyrio continued, "but not to kill him. At least, not yet. I want to know who he is, where he comes from, and how he came to possess such power. He could be... useful."

Viserys glared at the magister. "Useful to me, you mean."

"Of course," Illyrio said smoothly, his smile hiding his true thoughts.

Meanwhile, in the shadowy confines of the abandoned house, Alex sat cross-legged on the floor, the translucent System interface floating before him. Daenerys sat nearby, still wary and silent, her eyes flicking between him and the strange device he seemed to be staring at.

Host Credits: 500

Accessing Marketplace...

"Alright," Alex muttered, scanning the options. "Let's see what we can get."

Rows of items scrolled past, each labeled with its function and cost. His eyes landed on a package labeled

Field Rations: Military Grade (Serves Two) for 50 credits.

"That'll do," he said, selecting the item.

The air shimmered, and a small crate materialized in front of him with a faint hum. Daenerys gasped, her hand flying to her mouth.

"What... what is that?" she asked, her voice trembling.

"Food," Alex said simply, prying the crate open. He pulled out two sealed pouches, each marked with strange symbols.

Daenerys frowned. "That doesn't look like any food I've seen."

"It's... different," Alex admitted, handing her one of the pouches. "Trust me, it's edible. Better than starving."

She hesitated but eventually took the pouch. Alex showed her how to tear it open and activate the self-heating mechanism. Moments later, the rich aroma of cooked meat and vegetables filled the room.

Daenerys took a cautious bite, her eyes widening. "It's... good."

Alex smirked. "Told you."

Next, he purchased two

Compact Sleeping Bags (30 credits each) and a

Portable Lantern (20 credits),

which materialized with the same faint shimmer. He handed one sleeping bag to Daenerys and set up the lantern, casting a warm glow around the room.

"Where does this come from?" Daenerys asked, staring at the items in awe.

"It's... complicated," Alex said, not wanting to delve into the System just yet. "Let's just say it's something that helps me survive."

She didn't press further, instead curling up in her sleeping bag, the warmth and strange comfort of the modern supplies easing some of her fear.

Back at the mansion, Illyrio watched as his men prepared to depart, his mind filled with schemes.

"Bring him back alive," he instructed his captain, his voice low. "Kill him only if necessary. And if you can, recover that weapon of his. It could be the key to something far greater than the Iron Throne."

The captain nodded, his expression grim, and led his men out into the night.

Illyrio smiled to himself, his fingers steepled. "Let the dragon rage and the wolf wander," he murmured. "I'll be the one to claim the spoils in the end."