Werewolf hunting rules

There were not many customers in the pawn shop. Sure enough, the president still remembered the seller's face. This man came with several other people to sell things, but they did not disclose any information other than business, so the president knew nothing about his whereabouts. .

Clayton turned around suddenly and walked out of the pawn shop.

But people were coming and going on the street, and the wind had blown away the smell of the seller. It was still only possible to find it in the rotten air of this pawn shop.

Clayton turned back into the store with a gloomy expression. He was not so persistent with this seller because he cared about Des Jonrad's orders. He believed that he had done his best to deal with the Dongsen Bank robbery in Sasha City.

But the seller had the audacity to invade his house while guests were present, which was an embarrassment to him!

It would be fine if the seller didn't appear next to him in the future. If he bumped into him, he wouldn't mind giving him a lesson.

He suppressed his unhappiness and instead bought a few things that the seller was selling. He also asked the president if he had seen Ginger and Edgar. Sure enough, the president also remembered these two helpers, but they had not met before. It has been so long that the president no longer remembers what they said in areas other than business, and certainly does not remember where they went.

He also showed Clayton his diary. When the two came, they were still investigating local goods worth buying according to Clayton's acquisition standards.

According to the rules of business dealings, Clayton left a business card before saying goodbye, and then left with Julius.

After leaving the pawn shop, Clayton inquired about the location of the bar and immediately set out there.

The only places a thief will go after selling his stolen goods are bars, brothels and casinos. There may be exceptions, but if it's a group of thieves, then they must go.

The residents of this town basically do not rely on farming to make a living. They have a train station, and the price of noise is exchanged for a steady stream of customers.

All kinds of service facilities are built here. Huge colorful signs compete for beauty. Every hedonistic business has at least two or three shops open, and thieves are always following around.

The locals here are eager to take every penny off the travelers.

Creighton and Julius arrived at the bar first to observe, but the seller was not there.

They rushed to the casino again, and when they reached the door, Clayton had already sensed it, and turned around and told Julius to guard the back door. He himself walked into the front door and saw his strong and tall figure and the steady steps honed during his military career. The gunman watching the scene at the door could not maintain his tense expression. He moved to the side uneasily and was very polite. He nodded to Clayton and said hello.

The casino was packed with people, and the seats provided here were simply not enough, but the players didn't care. They shouted loudly, banged the table, and cried. Even the most shabbily dressed people were reluctant to leave.

There were no chairs, so they stood and bet, blocking the aisle.

There is a gunman leaning on each gambling table to prevent anyone from going crazy or from thieves.

The air reeked of sweat, bad breath, urine, alcohol and blood.

Clayton almost admired himself for being able to find the smell of the seller among these smells, but he was even more angry because of it. He had endured so much to catch this bastard, and he had to let the seller know that he was not someone to be trifled with.

He followed the smell and pushed his way through the aisles. The people he bumped into didn't even turn around to ask questions.

After passing through the crowd, the scene in front of Clayton finally became brighter. He found that the seller's scent was lingering on a stool beside a round gambling table. Cards were scattered in the corresponding position on the table, but the person did not know where to go. Where.

"Where's the guy sitting here?" Clayton asked the other gamblers sitting around the table.

A gambler drew one of his cards and threw it on the table, casually answering him: "There's no one here."

Clayton didn't believe the answer: "Then why is it empty?"

There are so many people standing around because they can't find a seat, but there is an unknown empty seat here. The probability is pitifully small.

Another gambler also answered him while playing cards: "In just a short time in the afternoon, five people have already lost money in this seat. Maybe it is because Heavenly Father did not bless the people sitting in this seat today. Everyone has lost money." Don’t dare sit here.”

Clayton resisted the urge to smash the chair.

"Then when did the last person who sat in this seat leave?"

"About half an hour ago," said the gambler who had just answered. "To wash his luck, he went through the back door."

Clayton had not been here for half an hour. The seller must have run away. He missed this little thief again!

The main target disappeared again, and the nearby noisy voices and sounds of dice were like a spell, which made Clayton upset. The werewolf tried his best to suppress his gradually heating blood and the subsequent surge of bloodlust:

"Do you know where he went?"

The gamblers looked up at him unhappily, with no fear in their bloodshot eyes: "Brother, are you here to ask questions or to gamble?"

"I'm here to find someone."

"It's boring, just sit down and play a few games." The gambler next to him advised. "Never mind that chair, it's just superstition if you ask me."

This was a good start, and the gamblers nearby became excited.

"Yeah, yeah, sit down and play a few games, and we'll tell you where he went!"

Clayton's hatred for the seller gradually transferred to this group of people, and he clenched his fists because he really didn't like being blackmailed.

But a gambler suddenly spoke up, forcing him to listen patiently: "However, I have no money, but I have the goods that the guy just pawned. He was reluctant to sell them when he went to the pawn shop before, and he handed them over because he had no choice but to lose. This is definitely a valuable item. If you agree to use this as collateral, we will continue gambling."

It turned out that the person who accompanied the seller to the pawn shop before was not his companion, but the gambler who asked him for a debt.

Listening to the gambler's description, Clayton couldn't help but think of Des Jonrad's gift.

"I have to see what it is first." He pretended to see the quality.

The gambler who spoke took out a long box from his pocket, took off the lid, and inside was a metal syringe lying in black velvet.

That's the thing!

Clayton confirmed its identity the first time he saw it.

"Fuck, I was fooled by that kid!" The gambler cursed in surprise. It was the first time he saw this thing. "Damn, the box is so beautiful, but there's a broken syringe in it!"

The gamblers next to him laughed when they saw his expression.

"If you don't want it, I can buy it with money, just as a little thanks for answering the question." Clayton said calmly.

The gambler's eyes rolled, maybe God really blessed him, and his brain, which was paralyzed by strong stimulation, suddenly had an idea.

"You actually came here for this thing, right? Otherwise, just give me the money directly. But I also think it's boring to talk about money directly. You sit on that chair and play two games with us. If I lose, I'll give it to you."

The other gamblers also looked at Clayton, and their expectant eyes made him realize that the misfortune that happened on the chair must be true.

Clayton glanced around and noticed that there were more than ten gunmen here, and he didn't know if there were any upstairs.

"Okay, I agree."

He sat down on the unfortunate chair.

"What's wrong with you? Have you found that bastard? I'm almost freezing to death outside!"

Julius hugged his arms and sniffed at the back door, while Clayton Bello walked out of the back door with a dull look in his eyes and a dazed expression, as if he had completely lost his spirit.

"I lost, I actually lost 50 pounds." The lieutenant murmured as if he was possessed by a ghost.

"You really came here for gambling, right?!"

Hearing this, Julius shouted angrily. He jumped up and shook Clayton's collar desperately, as if he had lost his own money: "That's 50 pounds! Your gambling skills are so bad, you might as well give me the money!"

Clayton recovered a little, but was still in a daze. He didn't even think about pushing the wizard away, but defended himself: "It's not that my card skills are bad. I played a good hand of cards when I was a soldier, yes. Yes."

He wanted to defend himself, but he couldn't say why it turned out like this. After hesitating for a few seconds, his expression suddenly became firm, and he pointed his right index finger to the sky.

"It was Trud Osmar who did it!"