"So just for a woman?" Listening to him, a perplexed expression appeared on Lance’s face, and he couldn’t help but ask.

"You were one of the early ones with me, and now you’re betraying me for a prostitute?"

"I..." Such questioning left the man unable to answer.

"Send him to the sanatorium." Lance waved his hand, showing no intention to listen to his explanation, not even bothering to look again.

Some people are destined to be unworthy.

"Master, no!"

Outsiders didn’t know, but didn’t the locals know?

As someone who could somewhat access Hamlet’s secrets, he knew that once in that place, there was no coming out, and the few who did were displayed on the shelves.

"I’ve done meritorious service for Hamlet, I’ve bled for the Lord..."

"You fucking betrayed Hamlet!"

Before Lance could speak, a policeman beside him couldn’t hold back and rushed forward to punch the guy, then dragged him out.

"Lord! Lord!" The man couldn’t care less about these things, struggling and shouting frantically.

But did those cops really dare not make a move?

They’ve tolerated you long enough!

"Traitor!"

"Fuck you!"

"..."

A brutal beating, there’s nothing good to say about a traitor, and by the time he was dragged out, he had already fainted.

But this time, Lance had no intention to speak up or advise, as if he hadn’t seen any of it.

If you mess with other things, Lance might give you a way out because of all the efforts along the way, but betrayal is unforgivable.

"How are you handling things? Why is there no reaction with so many prostitutes flooding into Hamlet?"

The intriguing point about this matter is that Lance didn’t even know that the foreign prostitutes were developing in Hamlet?

"It’s hard to define unless we catch the transaction directly; otherwise, we don’t have direct evidence to prove they’re selling."

Someone explained the reason, and they were helpless about this issue, because it’s hard to collect evidence. They couldn’t just arrest them in bed; they needed concrete evidence, monetary transactions, or something else.

Another reason is the influx of more outsiders, and these weren’t the kind you could easily keep in line. Without these prostitutes, things might be even more troublesome.

Lance soon calmed down, realizing that this matter couldn’t be solved at all, not by a few of them, not even in modern society.

"Control, suppress, this attitude must be shown. We can’t let more people fall."

In the end, Lance could only throw out this sentence, as if letting this matter pass.

"Master, isn’t the most important thing now to take control of those spies first?"

Someone wisely brought the topic back to the traitor issue.

"Many haven’t shown themselves yet. If we act now, it will cause chaos. Let’s wait, spread the word that we’re catching corruption, and I’ll call back a troop to seal off the old route."

A storm of anti-corruption from within swept across Hamlet, and this time no one dared to make trouble, because the Lord himself was hosting the operation.

It’s hard to completely hide the news, or perhaps it’s already hard to hide, because many people have disappeared in a short period, and even many projects have been disrupted because people were taken away.

Not to mention the sheriffs patrolling the streets, although now they were called policemen.

Everyone was afraid of that thing showing up at their door because its appearance meant you had to take a trip.

And the Lord didn’t know why he didn’t show up, but instead, a troop took over the entrances and exits of Hamlet.

Such chaos even made the local residents feel uneasy, as they’ve heard a lot of inexplicable rumors recently.

And those who felt very uneasy under control naturally took sinister joy at Hamlet’s current state, laughing at it mockingly.

Some even started taking action.

At the corners of the town, a gang of released hooligans was finally approached by someone.

"You said they hit you?"

"Two teeth got knocked out, my face is still swollen. What do you think?" The leader said as if his mouth still hurt, couldn’t help but cover half his face, looking both aggrieved and irritable, questioning the newcomer.

"Didn’t they say they don’t hit people? They hit so hard, you must add money for this."

The person responded with a smile.

"This is to treat you guys to some drinks."

As he spoke, the person took out a money bag and tossed it over. The sound of copper coins clinking immediately made the hooligan forget about the pain on his face, and a look of joy appeared as he accepted it.

"Spread the word about getting beaten..."

Upon hearing this, the leader’s expression quickly changed. He weighed the money bag in his hand, showing greed without any restraint.

"You didn’t mention this before. What if I get caught again? No way!"

What he meant was clear: this amount wasn’t enough, it needed more.

The person wasn’t angry about this. Having dealt with these petty thugs many times, they were like rolling knives, even a beating or two can’t change that, they just want money.

Money isn’t a big deal; just give it, because who knows whose pocket it will end up in once it’s all over.

After negotiating for a while, they finally settled on an amount, but the person didn’t forget to issue a warning.

"Remember, don’t let anyone else know about this."

"Got it, got it, would I go against money?"