Our Family Has Fallen

Chapter 1130: Chapter 624: I’m Not Saying You Can’t Survive, But There Must Be Limits (Part 2)

However, this provoked the mercenaries, with one even beginning to curse.

"This is clearly a guild, are you messing with us?"

But before things got out of hand, the leader stopped them and even took the initiative to leave.

"Boss, why are we leaving? That’s definitely a guild."

"Looks like this task isn’t simple; we should keep a low profile, figure things out first."

Where should we gather information? For mercenaries, there is only one place.

Soon, a group charged into the tavern, and a burly man slapped the bar and shouted.

"Get your boss out here!"

Meanwhile, the others were examining the tavern and couldn’t help but comment.

"Feels so quiet."

"Not many mercenaries, very different from headquarters."

"Probably all went to those ruins."

Their entrance drew the attention of everyone in the tavern.

But most looked at them like fools, some even ready for a show.

A few days ago, what happened to the troublemakers? These new fools...

Then, Lance, who had just seen off the professor, met the mercenary leader.

"I heard you’re looking for me?" Lance sized up the man before him, his face showing a casual and relaxed smile. "Can you represent the Mercenary Guild?"

This was a blatant revelation of their identity; they were sent by the Mercenary Guild.

"This is the property deed for the guild’s residence, we hope the Lord won’t make things difficult for us, and we won’t pursue this matter." The man spoke straightforwardly, taking out a property deed.

Though it’s unclear how he obtained it, coming here, he was certainly prepared in advance.

But this thing couldn’t fool Lance, he glanced at it and shook his head with a smile.

"That one’s fake."

"So, the Lord doesn’t intend to acknowledge this deed? It bears the Hamlet Family’s mark."

The man was undoubtedly referring to a very critical issue, which was using the Hamlet Family’s name to pressure Lance; the nobility care a lot about such things because they involve family matters.

Yet Lance merely wanted to laugh upon hearing this.

Since when did he care about such families? He didn’t care about the waste paper signed by previous lords.

Lance didn’t mind his doubts, and even kindly helped explain to him.

"I have no need to deceive you because the format is wrong; our deeds aren’t like that, real or fake, it’s just a piece of waste paper."

When he captured the town, he seized a large number of deeds, and after recovering the farm, Lance began land reform.

Lance couldn’t acknowledge the messy accounts created by previous idiotic lords, so he simply nationalized all land ownership, eliminating land consolidation in one fell swoop.

Only after completely eradicating those hidden troubles did Lance dare to boldly rebuild Hamlet, striving to develop.

Before he took office, the so-called deeds were abolished, and later he issued new certificates to those people, which only had usage rights, not trading rights—any trade wouldn’t be recognized anyway.

"Back then, I held a public claim period, and since nobody claimed that area, it naturally doesn’t belong to you. If you don’t believe me, you can take that deed and ask the staff about it."

The man fell silent, feeling utterly bullied; though he’d seen many brazen ways to seize property, this was the first time he’d encountered someone so shameless.

The guild’s people were all killed by you, what are you claiming?

"Why are you looking at me like that? The bandits killed them, if you’re unhappy, you can go find them."

Lance seemed to sense his unease, and made a sarcastic remark, but that smile truly came across as insufferably smug.

Still silent, realizing it was impossible to regain the premises, the man put away the deed and spoke of another matter.

"We hope the Lord can release those mercenaries."

"It’s not up to me to simply release them; concerning what they’ve done, perhaps even I don’t have your clarity. Don’t you find saying this amusing?"

Indeed, the guild was the primary source of spies back then, collecting everything related to Hamlet.

If it were just this, it wouldn’t be much of an issue, as many were doing it, and as long as they didn’t excessively involve classified matters, no one bothered them.

But they began corrupting the bureaucrats, stirring chaos, and those troublemakers in the casino were their own doing.

For mercenaries accustomed to freedom, Hamlet’s regulations made them uncomfortable, hence this behavior.

More importantly, their major business in security, guarding, contracting, etc. was directly undertaken by Hamlet’s police and military.

Cutting off people’s financial prospects is akin to taking their parents’ lives, naturally provoking destructive intent from the guild.

Lance could understand but couldn’t forgive; having done such deeds, they must face the consequences.

"Can’t we negotiate?"

"What do you think?"

Lance paid no mind to that slightly threatening tone, retorting bluntly.

But what they were truly discussing was whether the Mercenary Guild could still establish a foothold in Hamlet.

The residence symbolized the guild’s legitimate status in Hamlet, and the people represented its members.

The premises couldn’t be recovered, and the people couldn’t be freed.

This clearly indicated Lance’s stance.

Stop acting cocky in front of me.

"There are over a million registered mercenaries in the Mercenary Guild worldwide, with tens of thousands of mercenary corps of all sizes; there are hundreds in Hamlet alone, with more arriving in the future. Without guild management constraints, it could lead to many unnecessary troubles."

"Don’t scare me; if bold enough, you can declare war on Hamlet on behalf of the mercenaries. I’d like to see how many mercenaries would respond.

Don’t talk to me about management—you understand nothing. Go out and ask if things here are chaotic with so many people?"

Lance had no patience to waste words, throwing out a blunt remark.

What are mercenaries?

A scattered bunch.

Like Reynard and Dismas, who initially accepted the task of escorting Lance through the guild.

It’s precisely for this reason that two unidentified individuals could easily register, take on tasks, illustrating its loose chaos.

The guild, taking its cut from mercenary task rewards, was akin to a vampire, with no guarantees at all.

Though seemingly representing mercenary interests, they ultimately used mercenaries as pawns to protect their own benefits.

"The Lord’s intention is not to let us survive..."

The man could no longer hold back, attempting to be tough, only to cause Lance to laugh.

"Who are you? Are you a mercenary? Can you represent them? Stop pretending. If you’re upset, call your association boss for a duel; beat me, then we can discuss terms."

These words rendered the other silent, aware of the guild’s disarray, especially when facing crises.

"It’s not about preventing you from survival, but you must know your limits~" Lance calmly outlined a bottom line for them, "Tourism and sightseeing we welcome, but business isn’t allowed."

With these words, Lance made his stance clear.

The mercenary freelancers we won’t restrict, but the guild has no place in Hamlet.

Hamlet can only have one entity profiting, and that’s the Lord.

This decision won’t change based on guild will—they must either accept or engage in a showdown with Lance.

Whether they have the guts remains to be seen; Lance’s fists were eager for action.

After the Mercenary Association’s people left, Lance understood that Hamlet could no longer keep its secrets. To prevent them from meddling, there was only one solution.

Open the ruins and shift their attention to the skeletal remains, gaining more time to resolve the ancient issue.

This required overcoming the final challenge.

Lance’s figure soon appeared in the research institute, Hamlet’s true golden beast, even more so than the sanatorium.

During even the toughest times, Lance never reduced investments; he continually increased them.

Because Lance firmly believed that technological advancement was the foremost solution to escaping the current predicament.

Whew, whew, I wish to play on my phone, I want to drink cola...