Our Family Has Fallen

But Lance never cared, as long as the potion is controlled, they won’t be able to replicate the process even if they understand it.

Even if they cracked the potion formula, the raw materials are monopolized by Lance, unless they ask the ancestor for it, but wouldn’t that be a delivery service?

Then there’s only the last option, to go to war with Hamlet, and if they win, they get everything. Of course, if they lose...

"The experimental materials are being consumed too quickly recently."

Lance murmured as he looked at the application in front of him. It was Paracelsus applying for another test subject.

News of Hamlet’s breakthrough in curing sexually transmitted diseases quickly spread throughout the town.

In fact, long before, the story of how the Lord boldly decided to free and treat those prostitutes had already spread, even though Lance did not give such an order, not knowing if it was intentional or accidental.

Those ordinary people who were not sick naturally cared more about the Lord’s role in it, praising the Lord’s kindness and greatness.

This is the problem with heroism, Lance’s light was too dazzling. In fact, he didn’t do much; he just said a couple of words at the beginning and all the efforts of medical staff, Paracelsus, and Grendel were erased, all attributed to him.

It was the medical staff who cared for and treated patients in harsh environments, Paracelsus who spent countless days and nights researching treatment plans, and Grendel who carefully mixed the potions.

There were many more who contributed their efforts, even the workers who set up temporary camps were more directly involved than Lance.

Those who truly did the work seemed to be forgotten, and the people only praised the Lord, even those who were involved began to believe it was the Lord’s achievement.

The reason is partly because the public’s attention is limited and they can’t remember too many people, thus focusing only on the most familiar figure, as they only knew the Lord and had not interacted with others.

Some wanted to deify him, despite Lance’s efforts to avoid and gradually diminish his influence.

But sadly, this despairing world needed a "hero," even if it only exists in their imagination.

However, the outside adventurers who came to strike gold did not have much praise for the Lord, some even secretly ridiculed the Lord’s foolishness.

Why waste money on those dead people? If there’s money, it’s better given to them.

Some questioned if this was just unsubstantiated rumors, just a topic to chat about.

Yet in just a few days, news emerged of a completed treatment, which undoubtedly shocked them greatly.

Some couldn’t help but recall previous rumors about leprosy, but those were merely rumors, and now this was officially announced.

The healthy could still sit still, but even they couldn’t help feeling a sense of admiration for the Lord and surprise at Hamlet’s medical techniques.

However, those who were sick couldn’t stay calm. These hooligans fool around every day; catching a sexually transmitted disease is not surprising. Everyone knew it was hopeless, but they saw hope in Hamlet.

The topic created quite a reaction that day; some even went to the hospital to learn more and discovered that a complete recovery course was extremely expensive, priced in Gold Coins.

Some even felt they were being played; with this money, they might as well go indulge first.

They surely said so, but the longing for life under the torment of illness made quite a few plan to raise money.

This news shocked the observation group left by the Association of Healers the most.

There was already extensive research on the complex and varied sexually transmitted diseases within the association.

But there was no definitive stable method found. It wasn’t that there wasn’t one; the cost of using mysticism knowledge was too high, not yielding benefits, so it wasn’t promoted by the association.

As for the wealthy, why would they care about minor sexually transmitted diseases? They would always find a solution under Supernatural Power.

But the issue was, it seemed Hamlet had developed something remarkable.

"What do you think?"

"Why are you looking at me? I can’t get in, those people won’t tell us anything."

"Speaking of which, things were good before; they let us visit the hospital and even exchange, but why..."

Although they were not experts, they were professors and naturally interested. The previous exchanges also exposed them to another kind of healthcare system.

Suddenly, without warning, they were restricted from entering the hospital and communicating with those doctors. Did word of the association stealing the formula reach there?

However, the subsequent mass arrests and reforms made them think Hamlet was isolating them to handle internal matters.

But even after things calmed down, nothing changed, and they realized something must have happened.

"Don’t think too much, let the association handle these matters, we’re only here for academic research."

One of them interrupted, speaking with righteous conviction, but signaling others to pay attention outside.

A silence fell because now those restricting their movements were guards from the association.

But outside, people did not rest. Those who went to the hospital brought back the prices, and the topic stirred up again.

Faced with high treatment costs, people began to express opinions, most of which were negative.

Those guys cursed the hospital’s greed because they genuinely wanted treatment.

Ironically, the price wasn’t set by the hospital. They were just implementors, not receiving praise, yet taking the blame—damn unlucky.

"Interesting..." Audrey sat in a corner of the tavern, listening to the discussion, her hat casting a shadow over most of her face, her lips curling into a smile.

Her hand swirled a glass, exuding a carefree and relaxed aura.

However, if you pay attention, you’ll notice she’s holding a delicate glass different from the usual oak mugs,

More importantly, there was an unintentionally revealed drinking style distinct from ordinary folk.

If Sofia, who mingles in courts and deals with nobility, were here, she would notice subtle nuances.

But the tavern was filled with chaotic adventurers; no one cared about such an odd person.

Audrey actually didn’t like it here and looked down on the adventurers. She was simply here to gather more information.

Of course, another reason was that the drinks here didn’t suit her taste; beer was bland as water to her, hard liquor was too strong, and she didn’t like losing control.

The bartender recommended a drink she hadn’t tried before, perhaps those long-past the age of deep yearning would like reminiscing about their maiden days, but that didn’t include her.

She preferred the spicy bitterness of absinthe, its lingering aftertaste like her life.

Audrey listened for a long time and did not hear any news about the theft. Her smile quickly faded, replaced by a sense of dissatisfaction.

Having heard of the police’s prowess, after stealing the Blood Garment last night, she didn’t dare sleep at all, and was on alert all day, but there was no sign of anything unusual.

She suspected the theft at the museum went unnoticed, after all, who would pay attention to a missing piece of clothing?

Had she known, she would’ve stolen something more obvious, so it would be discovered sooner. Even a city-wide manhunt was better than this torment.

Now that almost a day had passed, she felt as if she was being ignored, recalling the unguarded museum from last night, the resentment surged again.

You could see she was a fickle and extremely sensitive person, sometimes even unaware of what triggered her.

Audrey didn’t know why, but she decided to give that strange Lord a tough time.

As for the target...