Werewolf hunting rules

"My left hand is betraying me?!"

The werewolf stopped crawling towards the child and looked at the ordinary but disobedient left hand in astonishment. The next moment, a feeling came from the left hand and instantly spread throughout the body.

As if waking up from a dream within a dream, the unruly wild soul fell rapidly and fell back into the body constructed by the mortal world and human morality. It was like a very thick piece of clothing, oppressing the inside heavily, but there was also some warmth and comfort, so that the soul did not really resist being combined with it.

And then, Clayton Bellow woke up.

Nausea, confusion, fear. The complex emotions made him almost vomit.

The memories and emotions that happened not long ago did not fade away. They were left clearly and completely, allowing him to truly feel for the first time another self born from the curse. It was completely different from him. The so-called definitions of good and evil could not be applied to it at all. Its nature was more primitive.

That was pure selfishness.

When he recovered a little, the children's frightened eyes and cries made him retreat subconsciously until he curled up in the blanket again.

Clayton was not a good person, but he could not kill the children who were the brothers and sisters of the person who rescued him.

In order to save his dying life, he ate the flesh of another werewolf, and the felony of cannibalism had already produced consequences.

Fuck Black Claw! Fuck Lavin!

Anger accumulated in Clayton Bellow's heart, but the werewolf's nature had not yet finished torturing him. These negative emotions once again turned into hunger, making his conscious mind return to chaos, and instinctively wanted to complete another thing he had not finished.

His breathing became heavy, and his eyes could not help but look at the children. Their trembling bodies and sobbing sent him non-threatening signals.

Dare not look, dare not listen again.

The body's thirst and the influence of the curse intertwined, as well as the burning pain all over the body, any one of which was enough to destroy a person, and the battle-hardened Clayton almost collapsed.

His eyes were bloodshot, and he suddenly raised his left and right palms at the same time, using his last strength to hit his ears hard, breaking the eardrums of both ears. The world around his ears immediately became silent. Even if there were still some slight sounds that could be heard, they seemed to be separated by a layer of water film and were hazy.

Then, he lowered his head regardless and picked up the seaweed on the ground and stuffed it into his mouth again.

The sound of teeth rolling over the seaweed did not become blurred, it covered everything.

Clayton spent a while in this way of escaping reality until his body was patted, and he looked up at Joseph who had returned in compliance with the order.

The child was holding a pile of wet shells, and his hands were full of cuts.

He started to say something, but Clayton could no longer hear it.

"Put it down." Clayton said with his heart, and at the same time, he released the power of the evil eye. The boy let go of his hand, and the shells fell to the ground. He burst into tears in an instant, knelt down, and opened and closed his lips desperately to tell Clayton something. Clayton mustered up his energy to look at his lips, but he couldn't distinguish the language from the restless movement.

When the boy realized that Clayton seemed to be unable to hear, he used gestures to keep gesturing, and finally conveyed his meaning.

There was not enough food.

Shellfish could not be eaten.

Clayton understood what he meant, so he put down the remaining algae and pushed them to the children, and pried open a shell and chewed the white shell meat slowly.

It didn't have the delicious taste of aquatic products, only the raw and cold feeling of industrial fluorescent agents and metal.

The werewolf's tongue can only taste the rotten smell from this kind of meat. Too many pollutants remain in the habitat of this shellfish. Even if they can survive, the metal pollution and toxins have already invaded their bodies and pickled them thoroughly. Even if the werewolf is an extraordinary creature, eating these things will inevitably cause endless troubles.

Clayton didn't care.

The essence of meat is more abundant than algae. After eating more than forty shellfish, he was able to stabilize his injuries. When he ate all the shellfish brought by the boy, although his wounds had not healed, his body had recovered basic mobility.

Basic mobility is the ability to fight with ordinary people.

Clayton stood up and wrapped a blanket around his waist to cover his shame. His eyes swept over the still hungry children and the unconscious woman, and finally returned to his thin benefactor. After dinner, he should make amends.

"Let's go find some necessities." He said.

Cutthroat Trail is a landmark area in the northern district of Weiodi. Gray and red are the main colors here. The messy and dilapidated houses are distributed without any plan, dividing this road into cracks on the ground.

Every few steps here, there is a dark alley that can be used for secret crimes and hiding.

Shadows and crimes are inseparable here.

Grave robbers and alchemists whisper under the eaves, and frequent corpse collectors and folk healers who buy corpses make deals here. Almost everyone here is related to gang members. Fraud, robbery, and murder are daily activities in this area. At least one outsider dies in Cutthroat Trail every three days. And when some gangs decide to settle their grievances with their opponents, they will also meet here to fight.

So, it’s really no big deal if a few people die here.

The morning after waking up, Clayton's eardrums had grown back. He quietly moved through the cracks of the dark alleys and found a robber's house identified by Joseph. He knocked on the door first, and when the man opened the door, he stretched out his hand and broke his neck. Then he went into the house, spent some time searching for food and clothes that could barely be worn, and finally dressed up and went out with what he needed.

Joseph was waiting for him in the dark alley, rubbing his hands.

When they walked together, no one dared to open the door to trouble them on the road.

Carrying a bag of food and money, and moving towards another place where someone was waiting for him with the child, like a father rushing home, Clayton unexpectedly felt a sense of satisfaction from this behavior.

People tend to have wild thoughts in a quiet environment. When he walked on the street, the first thing he thought of was his niece Donna, whom he regarded as a daughter, but she was already close to maturity when he first met her, and she did not give him much pleasure in parenting.

He thought of some women he had had sex with. Maybe one day a black-haired, yellow-eyed child would come to his house to claim his kinship. He would gladly accept the other party.

Clayton's injuries had not healed yet. After eating the shellfish meat, in addition to the burning sensation, he also felt some discomfort on his body, which made him thirsty and tired, but he was still thinking about his family.

He had reason to think about these things, and he couldn't help but complain about the world.

If his parents had tried hard, he would have ten strong brothers and sisters today; if Ulun and Cuitis had tried hard, he would have five strong nephews today; if he had tried hard himself, he would have two young and strong children today.

If that were the case, what reason would he have to contact the Black Claw Clan again after knowing the death of the helper?

And even if he wanted to communicate in depth, when the Black Claw Clan knew that he had so many relatives, they should have thought twice before taking action.

Of course, in reality, the fertility rate of werewolves and humans is relatively low. No matter how hard they try, they may not be able to give birth to more children, but it does not prevent Clayton from imagining this beautiful possibility.

Regret.

Clayton once again doubted the curse that Chude Osmar had imposed on him.

He had humiliated the other party when he was alive, and laughed at the monkey's foolishness of unconditionally believing in blood relatives. But when it came to him, even though he knew that the two helpers died in the castle of the Conlionai family, he couldn't help but imagine that the Black Claw clan might be related to his ancestors, and maybe they could help each other.

It was these thoughts that caused him to take risks continuously and fall to this point.

Penniless and unknown.

Clayton had at least a set of soldier's equipment during the most difficult times, but now he has nothing. Not only is he injured and sick, but his clothes don't fit him. The streets of Weiodi, which he could pass by in a carriage before, seemed to be stretched dozens or hundreds of times longer for him. The ugliest places in the corners and gutters were also magnified and presented nakedly in front of him, trapping him in this swamp and struggling to survive like the poor local residents.

It really sank to the bottom.

"Damn it." He muttered, making the boy next to him nervous.

When they were about to reach the shabby house by the river, Clayton gave the food to Joseph and asked him to take it back to his family, while he went to find a doctor.

The children couldn't explain it clearly. Clayton didn't know what disease the boy's mother had. She might have only suffered from some minor illnesses, but a series of inappropriate treatments made her condition worse. Clayton found several dark glass bottles that used to contain opium tincture in the house. The brands on them were still there. These were all bought by patients from the pharmacy.

This product is also available in Sasha City. The unsophisticated pharmacy owners like to recommend it to the common people. It is equivalent to a cheap painkiller and can also be used as a tranquilizer for babies. A large bottle can be exchanged for a few pennies.

But if opium tincture is regarded as a panacea, and then there is a lack of food and clothing, the condition will only get worse.

If left alone, she will die within two days.

Clayton hopes that he can repay the boy for saving his life before leaving.

The doctor from the North District was soon invited. After entering the hut, he spent some time to check the patient's condition, then frowned and said something to Joseph, which made him cry, which meant that the patient was already terminally ill.

Leaving a bottle of more advanced painkillers and charging fees, the doctor then left the hut.

Joseph told the other younger children what happened to their mothers over and over again, and finally made them understand the current situation, so they all cried.

He looked at the dying woman surrounded by children with pity.

"Maybe I have another idea."

Under the tearful eyes of the children, Clayton Bello took out the syringe that belonged to him and was looted from Lavin. After seeing what Lavin did with it, he roughly understood its function.

He inserted the syringe into his wrist and drew a tube of blood, then stabbed it into the sick woman.

"I hope this works."