Werewolf hunting rules

Clayton tried to get into trouble with Joe Mani, but Joe didn't give him a chance.

Clayton went to the chapel of St. Mellon Parish to find him, but the volunteer was never at his post.

He asked the priest in the church, who told him that Joe Mani was preparing for baptism and it was not appropriate to have contact with outsiders.

This was not a big surprise. Clayton knew he would be clever, but now he had to be held accountable.

He was always hiding something, which made Clayton unhappy.

The note that the Holy Grail would send had a very confident tone, a tone that suggested that Joe would not find help. Clayton was familiar with such a tone. Only a creditor who had a handle on the other party would speak like this.

Clayton went to Mercy Street again, trying to leave a message in Joe's mailbox, but Joe's house was empty and the landlord said that the tenants here had quit the lease.

He really had no choice but to go back and deal with his own affairs first, and wait for Joe Mani to contact him, or ask the priest of St. Mellon Parish Chapel after a while.

Maybe in a few weeks, Joe will be able to unite the power of the church to solve the Holy Grail Society.

However, after suffering the setback, Clayton's anger slowly calmed down.

The threat of the Holy Grail Society is not only bad.

Taking advantage of his free time recently, he contacted the property insurance company and insured all the items in the store that had appraisal certificates.

As long as the deadline is this year, no matter what night it is, the rusted silver coins are completely looted and burned by fire, Clayton will not suffer any loss, and can even make a small profit.

The insurance contract is relatively tolerant, which is also a benefit of Sasha City's long-term good security environment.

However, even if there is compensation, for him, rebuilding the store will still cost a lot of energy and extra money, and the debts caused by his previous losses due to ocean trade and several investments due to poor business vision will not be Tolerating him for too long.

Clayton returned home by carriage and sorted out his mailbox again.

Since there are informants all over the city to help collect valuable things, and he also has to contact some friends on a daily basis, his mailbox is rarely empty on a day.

The landlady's maid informed Clayton that she had moved his order of raw beef to the cellar, so he arranged to enjoy it in the evening.

At night he would feast and drink in the cellar.

Because he is a werewolf, he can replenish his energy by eating, and Clayton can even stay up all night.

The werewolf's strength and transformation abilities can also be improved through exercise, and he won't let himself idle at night.

The next morning, he would return to his human form, chew some natural spice powder as a deodorizer, freshen up in the bathroom, and continue to deal with business correspondence in Sasha City and the surrounding areas.

In the past, he would often feel soreness in muscles and joints due to old injuries acquired during his military career, but after becoming a werewolf, those injuries healed without medication.

Objectively speaking, except for the Holy Grail Club, the changes in his life so far are actually quite good.

But just the terrible guy from the Holy Grail Club was enough to offset all his good mood.

Someone died because of the Holy Grail Society, and those strange men were all locals of Sasha City. This means that the messengers of the Holy Grail Society are quietly attacking the local people, and their danger is beyond Clayton's original expectation.

Therefore, he wrote a letter and asked Cuitis to reconsider, or wait for his next reply before taking Donna to live in Sasha City.

The date of meeting blood relatives has been postponed again, and I don’t know if there will be a chance in the future.

If Clayton were to catch the bastards from the Holy Grail Society, killing them a thousand times would not be enough.

Clayton worked hard at home, writing replies to every letter that came in.

In the afternoon, he hired a carriage and searched systematically.

Last time on the Harpy, he collected some useful scents, which were different from the cheap perfume in the "Broken Wing Angel" strip club.

The smell was like the smell of some fresh, untouched cloth. Clayton had smelled it once, but because it was only once and the experience was insignificant in his memory, he forgot that it belonged to What does it smell like.

However, he concluded that this should be the smell caused by some kind of dye.

As long as you search all the dye houses in the eight parishes of Sasha City, you will definitely find clues.

Two monitors from the Holy Grail Society died, and they will not send new ones in the short term. It is just in time to find them out.

But what Clayton didn't notice was that his reputation among the coachmen seemed to have changed slightly.

The coachman he hired looked at him with a strange look:

"Sir, with all due respect, I have heard some bad rumors about you from my fellow travelers."

Clayton walked around to the back of the car and got in. He couldn't remember anyone he had offended:

"Mostly rumors, right?" he said casually.

The carriage driver smiled: "I think so, how could someone suddenly take off their clothes and jump out of the carriage while riding in the carriage?

Clayton stopped laughing.

He finally realized that so far, he had not lost nothing in his confrontation with the Holy Grail Society.

First, a large-brimmed black top hat rested on his short brown hair, and then a thick black cotton-padded shirt wrapped around his upper body.

High-heeled boots and a caged swift sword are essential, and finally a short musket is inserted into the holster on the waist.

Marietta looked in the mirror, not because she liked beauty, but to make sure that some of the laces were in the right place.

She took one last look in the mirror before leaving the bedroom.

The figure in military uniform in the mirror vaguely resembles the father she saw when she was a child.

Today is also a day of justice to maintain law and order in the city.

Marietta had her own job during the day, writing and reading letters for illiterate people, earning a salary of sixty pounds a year.

She may be a little less decent as a person, but she still has inheritance from her father, which allows her to live a carefree life for ten years without having to work, and it is more than enough as a dowry.

"I'm going out, Mom."

she said to the woman sitting in the rocking chair in the living room.

The woman had a forty-five appearance resemblance to Mary, and no one would doubt that she was a beauty when she was young. But she was wrapped in layers of too-tight woolen clothes. Her face was pale, she didn't look very healthy, and she looked a bit older than her real age.

She opened her dull eyes and turned to Mary: "Are you leaving again?"

"I'll be back, I promise."

Marie Etala opened the door and looked outside, then couldn't help but step back and hugged her mother.

"Aunt Fessy will be here in a minute. She can cook better stew than I can."

Her mother's face showed no emotion, and she pushed her away as if facing a stranger.

"I understand, please leave quickly."

Mary nodded, and this time she really left home.

As a daughter, she has a longing for everything her father left behind, including this city with a long history and culture.

Keeping Sasha City in good shape was as natural and necessary to her as sandwiching cheese and ham slices on toast.

Her father was a ranger and taught her how to fight with a gun and sword, so Mary was also handy as a sheriff.

In the General Security Department, no one would laugh at her because of her gender and say that women should not wield weapons - because she occasionally served as a shooting instructor there, and there were very few people who could surpass her.

Besides that, she has a good teacher who is also a good partner.

Although she had the disadvantage of not being able to recognize people, she never received any complaints when she was paired with that man.

Before the sun set completely, Mary walked into the luxurious Sheriff's Department building, where a heavily armed male sheriff was waiting for her at the front desk.

"Mary, today's patrol schedule has been decided. You go to the stables to get the horses out."

"Okay, Mr. Galeed," Mary responded enthusiastically.

Although it was an order, she didn't feel bored. The orders given by superiors to subordinates were a sign of approval.

Moreover, the Sheriff's Department actually doesn't have enough horses, and the other party never rides a horse. The so-called command to lead the horse is just another manifestation of concern.

She led the horse out of the stable and asked with the sound of kicking: "Sir, where are we going today?"

"Saint Solot Parish," Geled led the dog without looking back: "Protect yourself, we may also encounter those patients today."

Yes, patient.

Marietta's heart tightened, and she regained her vigilance.

There seems to be a strange disease spreading in this city recently. Although the sick patients are wearing clothes, they don't look very human in appearance, and they are quite aggressive.

If Mr. Galeed hadn't explained that it was a terrible plague from the colony, she might have thought it was a legendary monster and panicked.

It turns out that muskets and swords can still stop them.

Although it is pitiful, there is no cure for the severe plague. Killing these patients and sending them for cremation is the only way to protect the city.

The work had to be done in secret so as not to cause panic.