I slapped the chain against my leg and looked at Mr. Weasel, who was cowering in his chair.

"What was your issue?" I asked while swinging the chain lightly back and forth across my leg.

"I ... he ... he was working territory that belongs to me."

"Working territory?"

"Yes. My humans own those blocks."

"You're talking about prostitution?"

"Yeah," Mr. Weasel said.

I turned my back to him, confident that he would be too afraid to try ...