Werewolf hunting rules

"Clayton Bello?"

The sheriff glanced at the nameplate outside the door and sounded uncertain.

The sign is silver-plated, and the font is also a very formal missionary script, which is very respectable, and Clayton himself

Let's put it this way, he hasn't taken care of his hair or beard in two months, and he has an extra scar on his face.

"It's me, what's new, sir?"

Clayton was thinking about how to send the other person away quickly, because the other person was blocking the door, and he was about to go out. The black dog Marshall had an appointment with him, and he had to go and see the other person off.

"Do you recognize a man named Bruno?" The Sheriff looked at him.

When he heard the other party mention this name, Clayton immediately calmed down. He didn't know if this was an interrogation, but Bruno's recent behavior was really a bit out of line, so he was wary and refused to speak out to avoid being implicated.

"I know this guy, I used to."

"Great, then I think this is indeed for you." The Sheriff interrupted him rudely, then took out a document and handed it to him: "He died, and he left this in his home The suicide note is written for you. If you still have questions after reading it, you can ask the gentlemen at the notary office."

Clayton subconsciously frowned and shook his head: "Are you sure the deceased is Bruno? If the body looks similar to an ordinary person, then it is definitely not him. He is a thin man."

"That's right. He is a thin man, probably about the same height as you. His hair is as yellow as straw. I heard he was a soldier before." The Sheriff added impatiently.

Of course, the detective had many opportunities to interact with the Sheriff. It was not that he had never seen the dead guy before, so there was no need for the man to describe it to him again.

He continued to chatter, but his voice was like a breeze blowing in Clayton's ears, and it dissipated in an instant.

Bruno is dead.

That lazy guy.

Clayton tried hard to imagine, but Bruno's appearance was still vivid in his mind - he couldn't imagine the death of that guy.

He only met Bruno after he was discharged from the army, but his impression on him was no worse than that of his former comrades.

Although this guy always interacts with unscrupulous people and suffers from many problems himself, most of the money he earns is used to support the families of his friends who died in the war, with little enjoyment. This is something he cannot do. thing.

"How did he die?" Clayton asked, but he already had the answer in his heart.

The detective most likely wanted to seek repayment from Athena Berlugo, but he neglected something crucial. That day he thought that telling the story about the army massacre of gang members would scare the detective away from thinking about revenge. But Bruno's stubbornness is beyond imagination.

However, if Bruno wasn't such a stubborn good guy, Clayton wouldn't feel sad for him.

He should have been arrested that day on charges of theft and smuggling.

"His throat was cut." The sheriff raised his hand and made a scratch in front of his neck: "The body was thrown in the chimney of an old house. The family all went out. If someone hadn't looked up and saw his stretched out legs, It may be necessary for that family to go home and hire a chimney repairman to find the real reason for the blockage of the chimney. People who join gangs are like this, and they will not end well. I think as a peace officer, you should stay away from such people."

The lieutenant's eyes twitched, but in the end he didn't say anything sorry for the deceased.

He also wanted to observe a moment of silence, but the visiting Sheriff did not intend to give him time. Instead, he continued: "In addition, Mr. Galeed also asked me to give you a message. The arrangements for the Alvin Parish Sheriff's Department have been completed." Get ready, it's right next to the District Council. You have to go on duty before eight o'clock tonight. If it's not a special shift, we usually end the patrol in three hours at a time, which is not considered busy. If there are special circumstances, we will modify it. On duty."

Clayton nodded, and after the sheriff left, he returned to the study with the envelope, sat for a while, and sighed.

He never thought he would see off two people today.

He fears death.

The lieutenant inserted his fingers into his hair and scratched, using the pain to wake himself up. Then he opened the letter and read the message Bruno left for him with a heavy heart.

"To Clayton Bello"

"I should be dead when you read this letter. I ask you to handle some things for me. I will be paid later. My sister in Mona has reserved part of the property for me. You can go to her to ask for it afterwards. . That is a bottle with magical power, left by my grandfather, but I am not going to tell you the specific effect, I will leave this surprise to you. My sister has a bad character, if she secretly uses this bottle If she sells it and exchanges it for cash, then whether you want to ask for cash or go to court with her is up to you. My soul is applauding your victory in heaven and I will never protect her in the slightest."

"Actually, I didn't intend to write this letter to you, but I can't help it. The other reliable guys I know seem to be dead, and the two who are definitely still alive have their own difficulties. I really can't bear to leave this matter to you. Leave the errands to them. After much thought, it would be more convenient for me to trouble you again."

Seeing such sentences, Clayton was no longer so sad.

This guy is still the same asshole he always was.

As he continued to read, the handwriting on the letter gradually became scrawled. Even a lazy and carefree person like Bruno had a deep fear of death.

"The troublesome thing I want to talk about is the distribution of inheritance. I have worked as a legal consultant for the Gray Hat Gang for several years, and I have saved some emergency money. I have used some in the past few days, but I still have two hundred pounds. This is up to you. It shouldn’t be a huge amount of money, but there are many people who need to distribute the money. They are not all in cash, and some are proceeds of crime, but I swear that these crimes have not violated the freedom and safety of any individual. I hope you can help replace them. The money shall be distributed to them in the following proportions.”

Below is a complicated table, with the use of each shilling planned in detail.

Clayton never expected to see so many names, far more than fifty. They were all people who came into contact with Bruno and received help from him.

It was hard not to feel this. Clayton rubbed his forehead uneasily, mania and hunger reviving in his heart.

It wasn't going to be an easy job, but he would take care of it.

He briefly read the following contents, folded the suicide note, and solemnly stuffed it into the drawer of his desk, preparing to execute it after dealing with the recent troubles.

Next, he was going to the dock area to collect the body of Wolf Walker Marshall, because the other party collected the mana mark left by the Spider Priest through cannibalism, making his body difficult for her to detect. If Clayton wants to get this ability, he has to peel off his skin and put it on himself!

Poor God, Clayton didn't like this at all, but he had to do this to accumulate his own advantages to ensure that he could kill Athena in one go and prevent the other party from escaping.

With a heavy heart, he came to the dock area.

The bumpy ride of the carriage and the humid air here made it difficult for him to relax.

The wolfwalker didn't specify the specific location when he made the pact with him, but smell was the language between them.

Clayton walked along the river bank, but there was almost no water in the river. There was only countless wet mud as far as he could see, and some strange-looking arthropods were making holes in it. They were a little longer than crabs, but not as good as shrimps. His back is so curved. He had never seen such a creature before, this could just be one of the changes brought about by the dark moon.

How would biologists label them?

If not poisonous, they don't seem to be a threat, and homeless people starved for food can deal with them.

Some elusive and unique ideas flashed through Clayton's mind, but he did not stop to observe these little creatures.

Marshall's scent lies ahead.

He walked a little further and saw the black wolf standing on the mud in the center of the river bank. They were the same color, and he couldn't tell them apart at first glance.

Noticing Clayton's scent in the wind, the black wolf turned his head, his tail raised happily, but his voice was still tired:

"You came too early, I'm not dead yet."

Compared to the scheduled death, Clayton was pleasantly surprised that he was still alive, and he didn't have any opinions on these inappropriate words.

"But you came just in time." Marshall jumped up and jumped back to the shore. Only then did Clayton realize that what he was stepping on was a decayed and blackened board, not pure mud.

"Do you have a gun?" Wolfwalker asked, "Or a strong stick?"

Clayton's floating joy fell silent again, and he felt something was wrong.

"I have a gun, what are you going to do?"

The black wolf swept its tail and turned to look at the center of the river: "Look, I originally wanted to drown myself, but it's winter now, it's dirty and cold here, and it's really not a good place to be buried, so I want to ask Please do me a favor"

The werewolf's expression hardened.