Werewolf hunting rules

"This place is too fucking scary."

After leaving Albert, Julius gave his evaluation of the city.

Compared to Sasha City, Wei Aodi is like hell.

Visible harmful gases hover in the sky, workers fight for a little money, police sell stolen goods to raise funds for themselves, people disappear inexplicably every month, nobles who should have stepped down and given way to bureaucrats are still personally managing the city, and there are mentally deficient ascetics in the city who torture themselves and ask people for food.

"Don't be too nervous." Clayton said, "I don't think the situation is actually that bad. There are at least millions of people living normally here, and not many people will consider disappearances. It's just that Sheriff Albert is doing this kind of work for the first time, so he keeps saying bad things about this city."

In other words, it's not that all bad things happen in this city, but that bad things will only be notified to the police, just like only things that don't happen often will be reported in the newspaper.

If there is no experience before, the maintainers of order will easily regard bad things as the norm of this city's society, and thus become discouraged.

But even if Clayton explained it this way, Julius still couldn't like this place.

There is too much iron in this city.

Iron is everywhere: houses, walls, fences, tables and chairs. Even the swings in the park.

He has not yet been able to overcome the power of iron. Wizards at the level of Iron Finger will still be disturbed when casting spells next to this base metal. If he can be promoted to Copper Ring, he will immediately like this city.

As if misunderstanding his expression, Clayton said to him again: "If you still feel dangerous, leave immediately, don't feel ashamed. The money I pay you is indeed not enough to buy your life."

This indulgent attitude is like treating a child. Julius denied it flatly: "We are just looking for two missing workers. How can we provoke any enemies."

He absent-mindedly suggested that Clayton continue to visit.

Next, they went to the car rental company and the bar, but still did not find any traces of Edgar and Ginger. However, someone in the bar told them that there are indeed many disappearances in the local area. It is said that those missing people disappeared when they were alone, which coincides with Albert's last reminder to them.

Moreover, the drinkers here put forward a conspiracy theory, that is, the missing people are all related to the workers' movement.

Strangely enough, the workers' movement in Weiaodi is simply innumerable. There are large-scale marches every quarter, and there are news of workers' strikes every week, but the strange thing is that the frequent victories of the unions are useless. Nothing here has changed because of this. Ant nest-like factories are still densely packed to build the base framework of this city. The workers' work still occupies nine-tenths of their waking time, and the salary is still barely enough to make a living.

Contracts, obscure contracts, contracts that people can't understand. It's like a layer of webs, breaking one layer and another layer.

It is said that entrepreneurs rely on rigorous wording and legal traps to keep flying birds trapped in cages.

It is said that factory owners have planted their own spies in the unions. They will tamper with the prepared negotiation documents on the eve of the negotiations, and then get a large sum of money from the factory owners to fly away. This is the truth about so many missing people in Weiaodi.

However, some people refute this view, because the missing people are not only grassroots workers, but also upper-class people such as lawyers and doctors, who have nothing to do with the workers' movement.

It is said that there are three giant families that dominate the political arena of this city, namely the Hutton family, the Orens family, and the Basby family. They are not nobles, but they are extremely powerful and rich enough to rival a country. Only their people will hold important positions.

And, it is still said that under the private government built by the three major families, there is also a shadow government that actually controls everything. The three major families make decisions during the day, and the shadow government makes decisions at night. It does not hesitate to use bloody means to achieve its goals. If outsiders cannot obey, they will be expelled or destroyed.

A drunkard with some diplomas swore that he had returned home late at night a few days ago and saw a tall man in black talking to a couple holding a baby in a gloomy alley: "If there are more than three, one must be gone. If you don't obey, your family will be destroyed." So the couple cried and handed one of the two babies to the other. He leaned against the wall and vomited for a while because he was drunk. When he wanted to look again, they were gone.

With these new gains, Clayton and Julius returned to the hotel they booked at noon.

Of course, it was already night.

After dinner, Julius walked around in his room. Thinking about those strange rumors, he tried to build a model of the city of Weiodi through these clues and sort out a clear thread to connect everything.

He knew very little about this place, and only the words of criminals and drinkers could be used as a basis.

Des Jonrad once lived here for a while, and his evaluation of this place was "a pile of mud with names and surnames."

Chaos is the tone of Weiodi.

Julius was sure that because of the many unions, the gang fights here were more intense than those in Sasha City.

The union itself was a gang. Without violence, workers could not organize strikes, block production machines, drive those who were still willing to work out of the factory, and even more impossible to fight against the armed personnel sent by the factory owners to suppress them.

These unions are hostile to each other because of the different backgrounds of their leaders, geographical and racial divisions.

For example, the unions established by northerners only strive for the interests of northerners, and the same goes for southerners.

And when this difference falls between Morel people, plains people, and foreigners, the effect is still the same. Each type of people can be subdivided according to region.

When there are too many union members among the workers in a factory, they will consider driving away those retail investors and leaving job quotas to other members of the union. Those retail investors may not be real retail investors. They may also belong to With other unions, or simply as members of semi-black gangs, new conflicts continue to arise.

The reason why the local labor movement won so many victories did not change the situation is that their victories were not victories against the factory owners, but victories against other unions.

Julius is almost certain that this is the case, and he doesn't believe that any contract can perfectly control others.

It's all just these people's fault.

A bunch of shortsighted guys, he thought.

They are the kind of people who have never even taken a good look in the mirror and cannot possibly know why someone is missing.

As for the drunkard's motto of "If there are more than three, you must go to one of them", it was really weird. He couldn't think of the reason for a while, but he could feel the sinister smell.

Some people have said similar things in the past. When the Gulfmors were about to exterminate the Bosmer, the Bosmer had no choice but to plead with their brotherly nation, the Gans, who had different beliefs, to take them in. The Gans agreed, but made a request: " When they come, if there are more than three in a family, one of them must go." Even if they leave the old man behind, the couple can only have one child, so as to prevent these pagan Bosmers from growing rapidly in the future and backfire on themselves.

Although the Gansi people fulfilled their promise of protection, in the end the Bosmer also lost their unique culture and merged into the Gansi people.

If what the drunk man saw was true, it might be the restrictions imposed by the local secret society on foreigners.

Although racial discrimination still exists, Dorne is no longer a single-ethnic country. In this era, it needs to be emphasized that alien identities are really rare, unless the party accepting asylum is not human.

Someone is taking in darkspawn.

Could it be the Conlione family?

If the Conlione family is the Black Claw family, will their hostile attitude towards the Elders make this trip dangerous?

Those who disappeared were all attacked when they were alone, but was the murderer always monitoring them? Otherwise, how could he know exactly when they would act alone?

Peng!

There was a sudden heavy knock on the door of the room. Julius, who was thinking, immediately jumped up, rolled over and squatted behind the bed, pointed his new wand at the door carefully, and opened the gnosis at the same time.

However, no one broke in, and the footsteps left the door.

He waited for a while, then slowly got up and walked to the door.

There was a piece of paper on the ground, with scattered water reflections on it.

Julius bent down and slowly rubbed the tip of his wand across the piece of paper, several times, so that if there was any curse on it, it would be removed. After doing this, he dared to pick it up.

"Lonely man, come here to find me"

There was a row of addresses written in small characters under the enchanting lace font. When he saw this, he couldn't help shaking his head and laughing at his panic just now.

"I'm really scared that I would be frightened by a prostitute."

When he was thinking this, Julius suddenly had a plan in his mind. He held the piece of paper and went out, walking to the door of Clayton's room, determined to do the same thing to scare Clayton and end this long and boring period. Add a little more fun to the journey.

He was about to bend down and stuff the piece of paper into the crack of the door, but Clayton's door suddenly opened, and Clayton looked at him in surprise.

"What are you doing?"

Julius straightened up and said calmly: "It's nothing, just a little dust on the boots."

Clayton still looked at him suspiciously, the laughter coming from the next room just now failed to hide from the werewolf.

Seeing that he didn't believe what he said, Julius had to raise his hands in surrender, but in the blink of an eye he made up an excuse: "Well, I got a whore card, I thought you might need it."

He handed the piece of paper to Clayton and described what he had just encountered, but omitted his reaction.

"I no longer hire prostitutes. Prostitutes are an immoral profession." Clayton said, twisting his eyebrows and turning the paper over and over.

He seemed to have discovered something, turned back to the room, and examined the paper against the candlelight.

Julius followed him and exclaimed in time, with a look of admiration that would not be discovered at all: "I didn't expect that you are still a moralist. A single man in his thirties can give up the habit of soliciting prostitutes and protect the queen like a Just as you protect your chastity, you must have a touching story of the prodigal son’s return.”

"There's no need to ridicule me, Julius. I don't take prostitutes, but I do find lovers." Clayton said, his black pointed nails scratching on the squiggles on the paper, and the black color quickly spread around him. open.

"It was freshly made on a business card printer, and the ink wasn't dry yet, so it couldn't have been more than an hour old," he told Julius.

Then, the werewolf put the paper under his nose and smelled it, then dipped his fingers into the liquid on the paper and twisted it.

This solemn attitude made Julius calm down. He came over and looked at the piece of paper again, but still saw nothing unusual.

"What did you find?" he asked Clayton.

"The water droplets on it appear to be saliva."

Julius shook his head. He didn't think this was strange: "The person who sent the card would not only bring one card. If he was lying on the ground and stuffing the card into the gap at the bottom of the door, then he would have to free it at this time." It would be inconvenient to hold the rest of the cards in one hand, so it makes sense to hold a stack of cards in your mouth before lying down.”

"That's the problem," Creighton said. "If he really has so many advertising cards, why doesn't he send me one?"

Julius was stunned for a moment, and suddenly his scalp felt numb.

They knocked on the door of the next room again, but no one else received the prostitute's advertising card.

They rushed to the front desk of the hotel, which was in the middle of the room, where the hotel owner sat. There was only one route from the building's entrance to their room, and if someone was passing by, there was no way the innkeeper wouldn't see it.

However, the innkeeper's answer remained the same - he saw nothing.

A cold draft suddenly blew over them, and Julius turned around suddenly. At the end of the corridor on the left, the lift-up window, which was as narrow as a carriage window, was open.

The little light from the street lamps outside shines through the window, like a painting of a starry sky.