Werewolf hunting rules

The door opened a crack, revealing half of Joe Mani's face.

After seeing that it was Clayton, he quickly opened the door, and then turned around nervously, as if he was wary of something.

Seeing how energetic he was, Clayton felt relieved.

The shot just now still had the risk of killing Joe, but Joe was always lucky.

He reached out to the side, lifted the paralyzed harpy outside without any blood stain, and then closed the door.

"Lieutenant, have you ever seen this kind of thing?"

Joe asked with his back to Clayton, he raised his gun warily and pointed it at the squirming stumps on the ground.

The deformed hand on the tip of the severed wing was trying to crawl on the ground.

Clayton held the unconscious harpy up and looked at it, and was disappointed to find that the main body might not be as active as this severed limb:

"I think I've seen it before."

Joe didn't see the real thing on Clayton's hand, but he still felt the gradually getting stronger smell.

"Damn it, why is it getting worse and worse?"

"Probably because of it."

Clayton threw the harpy to the ground, and the severed limb touched it, but did not recognize its home position at all. He just continued to mechanically grasp it and grabbed more feathers from its body.

This ferocity made Clayton frown.

He recalled the scene during the cremation of the recently deceased, those beings that had been judged to be corpses twitching in the flames.

Joe next to him sat down on the ground, and he realized that Clayton had come in with this monster.

He had also been a soldier, but when he joined the army he had never seen any normal enemies, let alone such monsters.

This display of panic made Clayton a little impatient.

Maybe it would be acceptable to see him in werewolf form like this?

Having a human part of a monster is even more disgusting than being entirely a monster.

That's a serious sense of blasphemy.

If you only look at the head, the face of this harpy is still that of a young and beautiful girl, but the rotten smell of the bird body underneath and the deformed organs retained in the smallest details completely lose this beauty.

If Clayton himself were a werewolf with the body of a wolf and the head of a human, he might not be able to accept it either.

Thinking of this, he was a little more tolerant: "Qiao, haven't you been the guard of a prisoner of war camp before? Try to see if you can ask anything from it."

"It?" Joe gestured to the Harpy's body with his gun in disbelief: "Can I ask this?"

"It has a head after all. Take it with you, and then we'll change places."

Clayton had doubts about the safety here. Although no one noticed him firing, the escaping coachman might come back with the night patrol peace officer to check:

Joe glanced at his gun, at the shattered window behind him, then back at the bullet holes in the wall.

This is a rented house.

"OK."

Soon, they moved the harpy to a nearby remote abandoned building.

In the dark and dusty space, the sound of waves surging outside was clearly audible, but it gave people an inexplicable sense of deep silence, and their breathing became heavy.

This is the dock area on the edge of Sasha City.

However, because soil and water landslides on both sides of the canal blocked the waterway, it was difficult for larger ships to pass through. Over time, the dock and some surrounding warehouses and factories were abandoned. Only homeless homeless people and some criminals would choose to hide here.

Clayton went to the door to warn outsiders approaching, leaving Joe Mani to do business inside the warehouse.

Joe held a candlestick in one hand and a revolver in the other, facing the bound monster, recalling his previous experiences.

"tell me your name."

It seemed to be of no use, as the eagle with the head of a woman looked at him.

Qiao thought for a while and asked again in Taunton.

"Tell me your name."

The harpy suddenly opened its eyes, and two lines of tears flowed down its face.

Joe's expression froze, and the vivid emotions on his face made him temporarily ignore other inhuman parts:

He turned around and shouted: "Lieutenant, something isn't right here?"

Clayton Bello walked in from the door carrying a heavy rifle: "What do you mean?"

"It looks like a human being."

Creighton leaned against the door holding the rifle, playing the barrel with his fingers like a harp. He saw the tears on the young face of the harpy and the disgusting body, and he felt irritable for some reason.

He is a werewolf, but he is also a human, so who is this guy?

Not even a human body.

"Have you not read the "Poems of Liasius?" They are always deceptive."

"But it's crying." Joe's voice was panicked.

"It's better to look like a human being. It means it knows how to be afraid. Ask it where its owner is."

Joe Mani turned back and relayed Clayton's question in Taunton.

The harpy opened her mouth, but did not make any sound. She even forced an expression that could be called a smile while tears were streaming down her face.

Before Joe could speak this time, Clayton raised his gun and pointed it at it. He was determined to finish this matter quickly:

"Speak or die."

Because of Roland's military experience during the war, he also learned Taunton, but he was not as good as Joe.

The banshee's tears welled up again and dripped down her chin,

It had a long mouth, and the face of a young woman twisted, trying to tilt her head forward.

"What the hell!" Clayton suddenly lowered the muzzle of his gun.

It was far away just now and couldn't see its face clearly, so it didn't feel like shooting. Now Clayton couldn't figure out the state at that time, and an unreasonable emotion prevented him from taking action.

He took a few seconds to calm down, squatted next to him, and pressed the harpy's cheeks to force it to speak:

"You better say something or else"

He paused, his fingers retracting as if they were shocked.

In the woman's open-headed mouth, there was only a little tangled mass of flesh where the tongue should have been, and a few teeth were missing.

She can no longer speak.

"Are you human?" Clayton brushed away the feathers under his neck. There was a purple-black mark there, and the edges had begun to fester severely.

"Harpy" nodded, and then looked at the gun in Joe Mani's hand, his eyes full of desire.

Clayton stood up and turned around, and Joe took a step back at the look in his eyes.

"You kill her."

Joe thought he didn't hear clearly: "What?"

Without further explanation, Clayton took the gun directly from his hand and fired back without looking back.

The woman's head tilted back and hit the empty rusty iron frame behind, but the sound was insignificant compared to the gunshot.

"Let's go, we've wasted our efforts."

Clayton tightened his collar, threw away the revolver, then picked up his rifle from the ground, put it on his shoulder and walked out.

Joe looked at him but did not follow.

The night outside the abandoned warehouse was quiet, with only a little moonlight shining through.

Clayton's tawny eyes glowed.

He walked back along the original road alone. He didn't know how long he walked, but there were more and more houses on the road.

"Good evening, do you need help?"

At the end of the street, a man blocked the way.

He was wearing a long black trench coat and a flat hat. He was holding an excited-looking dog in one hand and a cane in the other. The badge on his chest identifies him as a peace officer.

Clayton raised his left hand, put it under his nose and sniffed.

The smell is really strong.

"No, I just finished fishing and was going home."

In order to prevent the barrel from being exposed by reflection, Creighton's Conqueror rifle was covered with a thick black cloth cover. He was not worried that the other party would see what it was.

"You are so interested in fishing at night."

The sheriff nodded: "But it's so late, even St. Mellon Parish is not safe. There seemed to be a shooting just ahead, so it's really unsafe. I'd better walk with you for a while."

It would be suspicious to refuse any further.

"Thank you very much," Clayton said. He smelled the smell of the Sheriff's coachman, and it was logical for the other party to trace him based on the smell.

As he walked forward, the man's dog came to his shoes and sniffed them, but did not bark.

Dogs and wolves are the same animal, and Clayton can control them.

The Sheriff chuckled:

"You're welcome. We dark descendants should help each other."

Clayton's eyes tightened.

He had just done something that made him unhappy, and he was now more irritable than usual.

"Darkborn? Is this a new term?"

“Not a new word, but a theological word.”

The Sheriff walked leisurely with his dog, seemingly not worried about Clayton sneaking up from the side.

"You don't know about this, do you?"

"I don't know." Clayton guessed the relationship between the other party and the Holy Grail Society.

He grabbed the gun's sling with one hand, ready to fight.

"Don't be nervous. My name is Galid. I have been the sheriff of this city since four years ago. I usually uphold the laws of the kingdom, but I will also help dark descendants like you hide."

Galid tilted his head and looked at Clayton with his peripheral vision for a second or two, then turned back.

"Especially in recent times, there have been a lot of new-born babies like you who don't understand anything, and they have caused me a lot of trouble."

Clayton seemed to have received a heavy blow in his heart:

In such an important institution as the Sheriff, there are actually inhuman beings mixed in, and they have been there a long time ago!

If what this man said is true, what kind of city does he live in? !

He glanced back, glad Joe hadn't followed.

"This is unbelievable to me. Can you prove your identity?"

Hearing his question, Galid did not respond directly.

"We are not familiar with each other yet, so this is a secret. But if you are interested, you can come to me at the General Security Bureau tomorrow. I can answer some of your questions."

Galid's footsteps suddenly stopped. In front of them was No. 214 Mercy Street.

A lot of glass shards fell out of Joe Mani's windows.

“It’s in our nature to unleash our power, but don’t let it go too far.”

Galid looked at Clayton seriously: "The elders of this city do not want to break the peace again. Chaos will make it impossible for us to do business."

"This is no longer the old era."