Werewolf hunting rules

Monday night makes Clayton anxious.

Tonight at the Pulitzer Mansion, there will be many things beyond ordinary people's imagination.

To put it in a rather convoluted way, "the monster feels that the monster is a monster because he has just become a monster."

Clayton had only become a werewolf for half a year, and few of the extraordinary beings he had seen were normal, which made him feel that his future was bleak. The cruel Holy Grail Society was able to live in peace with the Presbyterian Church, which made him lose the foundation of trust in the Presbyterian Church who would protect the dark descendants.

But even the security of the city is managed by the other party.

Therefore, even though Galeed claimed that this was just an ordinary orientation meeting, Clayton decided to go to the meeting with a short and light weapon.

Because the revolver was lent to Joe, he had no choice but to choose a cane sword with a black snakewood body from the merchandise. This could not only show his identity as a gentleman, but also be able to draw it out at any time to fight the enemy.

At six o'clock in the afternoon, Clayton went out on time.

He changed into a black coat and trousers of the same color, put on a felt hat, picked up his staff and sword and went out to rent a carriage.

There were not many people on the road. Although it was getting dark, the street lights along the way were still dim.

The Night Lighting Act stipulates that street lights be turned on at seven o'clock.

Most people don't get off work that early, so this is an acceptable time.

Only relatively wealthy areas will have more passers-by.

This is also thanks to the river siltation in Sasha City. A large number of factory clusters cannot be formed here, because the transportation capacity brought by trains has reached its limit. The delivery of products is likely to be delayed due to schedule delays, and delays will require compensation. This is a smart decision. Entrepreneurs see it as an unprofitable place.

The factory floor is already saturated.

In places where transportation is not so developed, working 12 hours a day is enough, and everyone is more comfortable.

When Clayton is still a certain distance from the central city, it already feels different from the East XC area.

Here, tall buildings are lined up in rows, and every floor is bright and transparent.

The lights coming out of the windows of different buildings combined with each other to create a wonderful scene that barely requires street lights to illuminate the road.

There were more and more people on the street. The smart and fashionable men and women walked confidently in the light of electric lights, as if they were walking in heaven.

To power and light a four-story building covering an area of ​​600 square meters, at least one to two gallons of refined whale oil is used every night.

Even in the St. Mored Parish where he was located, not many people dared to use electricity so extravagantly. They all used a mixture of oil lamps, candles and electric lights. Most of the night was dark and silent.

But the city center is where the real buzz is.

Universities, city government buildings, corporate offices. People's desire for electricity here is far greater than elsewhere.

No matter it's cloudy or night outside, it's always sunny inside those majestic buildings.

The Pulitzers made their living off of these needs.

Before learning about them from the Presbyterian Church, Creighton only knew that the Pulitzer family owned a marine business and lighting company and were business magnates in Sasha City.

The men who owned the whaling ships and the oil refineries were able to rise above the rest to some extent without any special power.

They are already extraordinary.

So Clayton's impression of this family is still the same as before.

He found the Pulitzer family's mansion. The tall building was located not far from the largest church in Baijiao in Sasha City.

Muguang Cathedral.

It was a building that would not be inferior in the capital city of Yaxin. The towering spire and pure white exterior walls made it look extremely sacred.

It is thanks to it and the University of Sion that the city of Sasha is known as a city of art and culture.

Clayton glanced at the eye-catching spire warily. There were many people walking in that direction on the road to prepare for evening prayers.

Being able to see the spire means that the city hall is not far away.

The position of the Presbyterian stronghold showed their extraordinary confidence and strength.

When we got closer to the Pulitzer mansion, the iron fence that looked like an ancient forest of spears and the sturdy security guards holding shotguns made it difficult to get close.

Clayton began to suspect the Presbyterians had ulterior motives.

They were already so wealthy and powerful, so what else could they do to recruit the darkspawn?

Are the basic member benefits mentioned by Galeed purely for charity?

However, several of his regular clients have invited him to similar places. Clayton is familiar with such occasions, and the formal attire he wears before going out is also suitable here.

Clayton stopped the carriage and planned to walk across the street himself. At this time, he saw a ragged gray-haired man next to him squatting a little further away from the door - to be precise, in the bushes on the street beside the mansion gate, secretly staring at the security guard, as if he also wanted to enter the Pulitzer. Mansion.

The gray clothes that exposed his chest and belly made him look out of place on the street, which would go a long way to explaining why he was so cowered.

Clayton had an idea. He saw the right moment, waited for the carriage to pass and trotted across the street, preparing to ask the man something.

Noticing a well-dressed man running towards him, the homeless man subconsciously turned around and ran away.

Clayton had already put his hands on his shoulders. He deliberately relaxed his strength, but as a result, he was pulled forward three or four steps by this guy.

This power is not something that ordinary homeless people who have enough to eat can possess.

"Did someone ask you to come here?"

Clayton held his shoulders and pushed them back hard.

The homeless man's face was dirty and his age showed no sign of it. His fearful expression was impeccable considering his status. He was almost two heads shorter than Clayton, and he had no intention of resisting. If it hadn't been for the burst of strength, perhaps Clayton would have regarded him as an ordinary person.

"Yes, yes, I'll say anything!" The homeless man stepped back step by step with his hands palms outward.

"Who asked you to come?"

"A guy I didn't know, he said I could get a job if I came to Pulitzer's house."

Clayton pressed, "Then why don't you go in?"

The homeless man glanced at the armed security guard standing in front of the gate through the gap in the iron railing, and swallowed: "I thought I was looking in the wrong place."

Clayton exhaled, he thought wrong - he originally thought that this person was sent by someone who discovered the secret of the Presbyterian Church, but he didn't expect that he was another person who was recruited.

It was beyond his imagination that the Presbyterian Church would absorb even the homeless.

"Then let's continue."

After saying this, he turned around and left, but this ragged man boldly followed him:

"Sir, so I came to the right place, and this is the Pulitzer house?"

"It's absolutely true," Clayton told him without looking back.

They walked through the gates of the Pulitzer mansion one after another, and the armed security guards didn't even ask them any questions, as if they would let them go if they dared to enter.

Creighton didn't know what they were guarding against, or whether letting these people stand at the door was just a way for the Pulitzer family to show off their financial strength.

After entering the gate, walking along a road that was more than a hundred meters long, and bypassing the gushing sculpture fountain, Clayton actually stood at the door of the mansion.

It is somewhat grander than the Sheriff's Office of St. Mellon Parish.

There was a waiter at the door to open the door for them.

After entering the door, Clayton's eyes instantly lit up and his body entered a warm space.

A maid in a long black and white dress came up to them and asked them to sign the visitor's book, and then handed them a green silk handkerchief with a steamship pattern embroidered on it.

"Please accept this."

Clayton put away the handkerchief, wiped his cane and stuffed it into his pocket, then took off his hat and scarf and handed it to the maid.

The tramp behind him also got the same handkerchief, wiped his hands rare, and then wanted to imitate Clayton and take off something to give to the maid, but was embarrassed to find that he couldn't take off anything.

The maid left, and another maid took her place and stood by the door.

Because everyone hadn't arrived yet, the waiter in a black vest led them to the waiting room to rest.

There are already some people here.

A stout worker with calluses and scratches on his hands sat on the sofa smoking the cigarettes provided here one after another. His face was filled with sadness after the smoke. There was nothing special about him except that his body under overalls was too fat.

The blond woman with pointed ears is suspected to be of Semitic descent with the ancient name of elves. Although she is wearing an old blue dress that is somewhat whitish, she still has the charm of a mature woman. The ring on the dress and hand proves that she is married. His brown-reddish eyes flashed with pain and greed from time to time, and he kept biting his thumb to suck blood from it.

There was also a young man holding a book, observing the other two excitedly, and then looking down at the book as if looking for some kind of contrast. He didn't take off his scarf and gloves in such a warm environment.

Clayton and the Tramp were stared at as soon as they walked in.

Their focus on the homeless man quickly faded and then focused on Clayton.

He was dressed very formally today, with a majestic king's beard, and he was very adapted to this place. Looks like either a regular or an organizer.

Clayton didn't care about the looks of these people. His attention was immediately drawn to the book held by the young man.

"Can you lend me this book?"

He walked over and pointed at the "Introduction to Occultism: Common Sense and Counter-Common Sense" and asked.

This name made Clayton feel that if he finished reading this book, he would probably be able to understand the "Two Thousand Common Senses for Occult Lovers" sent by Tritis.