Werewolf hunting rules

Seeing that Faslag still wanted to sit up, Creighton first gave him the butt of the gun, then put the muzzle of the gun against his chest and pressed it down.

"Who asked you to do this?"

"I don't know what you're talking about?" the active cavalry officer yelled angrily.

His horse stood up with difficulty, then abandoned its owner and ran away towards the smooth road.

"Who asked you to take away Lieutenant Charles's body parts? Is it with you now, or did you throw it somewhere?"

Clayton raised his boot and kicked him hard, but then he saw Faslag's pupils suddenly dilate, and the expression on his face changed seamlessly, settling on a ferocious expression.

"My legs, Mom!"

He hugged his legs, tears streaming down his face, and he was a completely different person than he was a second ago.

Clayton felt a fire in his heart, no matter how stupid he was, he knew what was happening.

He took a few steps back, turned around and observed his surroundings, raising his gun at the same time to be on alert.

This abandoned quarry is located near the outskirts of the city. It is flat in all directions and cannot hide anyone. In other words, Athena is not here at all.

It's at least two kilometers away from the hospital.

It shows that once this ability to implant memory is activated, distance will not be a limitation.

After thinking about this, Clayton looked at Faslag again.

We can't ignore this man. He is an active-duty officer after all. If word gets out that he was attacked outside, Clayton will have to be imprisoned for at least a month after paying the fine.

This is a consequence he cannot accept.

Just when the werewolf had a headache, he saw Faslag stop crying, the expression on his face froze, and he dragged his body on the gravel ground with his hands, leaving bloody traces.

He inched closer to the revolver that fell to the ground, slowly but surely.

Out of observation, Clayton did not stop him immediately.

With the opportunity lost and his body still injured, it was impossible for Faslag to harm him with his gun.

He also wanted to see what the other party was going to do.

But before that, Clayton actually had a guess in his mind.

As expected, he saw Faslag raise the revolver and point it at his temple in an awkward posture.

boom!

Clayton raised his hand and fired a shot, knocking the gun out of Faslag's hand. The huge impact may have broken a few fingers, but this kind of loss was insignificant in this emergency.

Faslag fainted immediately after losing the gun.

"Suicide?" Clayton sighed.

This method is probably to frame the blame, but since he is here, this method will not be effective.

Clayton knelt down and rummaged through Faslag, but did not find his original target.

So the goal changed.

He picked up Faslag and walked back. After taking a few steps, he heard the person in his hand shouting in pain.

Faslag didn't know where he got the strength to break free from the werewolf's shackles, and then fell heavily to the ground. He scratched his face with both hands and rolled back and forth. Clayton saw the flesh on his face deforming like melted wax, his facial features shrinking to the center, forming a terrifying vortex, and he gradually lost his voice.

An invisible force was tightening, and Faslag's head was sunken, showing a palm print of only four fingers like clay.

Those finger-like ravines gradually deepened, eventually tearing the entire skull apart.

After this, the headless body in green military uniform finally stopped rolling, but its fingers were still grabbing reflexively.

In just fifteen seconds, a living person died due to indescribable power. Right in front of Clayton, he watched the whole process in silence. The gun in his hand was still there, but he felt very powerless.

He couldn't understand this kind of power, let alone how to fight against it.

When does it work? What are the conditions for it to take effect? Does it currently only work on Faslag?

Can a werewolf stand up to this power?

He doesn't even know.

The change of situation caught Clayton off guard. He had to go back to inform others of the incident and apply to the Presbyterian Council for more support.

As for this "other", it can even be the church.

Ignoring Faslag again, he turned around and left quickly, trying his best to avoid the invisible thing.

Shortly after Clayton left the quarry, an armed team arrived.

There are seven escorts, all wearing round felt hats and carrying single-shot rifles or shotguns. They are all muscular, with dark skin, and their faces are alert and confident. Their uniform black jackets also have thick leather capes, and the words "Hooker Detective Agency" on the back illustrate their affiliation.

It was the first large-scale detective security company in the country to develop cross-city business. It has a history of fifty years. Most of its members are veterans who have been re-employed. Rich people are full of praise for its professionalism.

Whether it is security or violent strike suppression, he can complete the task perfectly, and he is a leader among armed detectives.

In the middle position between them, there are two people enjoying the escort service.

It was a man and a woman.

Although the man is not short, he has his back hunched and the lower half of his face tightly covered with a scarf. The yellow hair under his hat is very eye-catching.

The woman has an extraordinary appearance, with blond hair and blue eyes. She is much more calm than the male companion next to her. Even a cheap blue leg-wrapped skirt can still look aristocratic.

They walked to the body. The man's body trembled, and his voice came out in a distorted way through the scarf: "Is this what they did, Athena?"

"Of course." The woman said respectfully, but only she knew the truth in it.

"Presbyterians are always like this, violent and arrogant, thinking that everything is under their control. They are old, but they try to drag the whole city to decay with them. Their eyes and ears are everywhere, fighting against them As long as anyone is suspected, he will be severely punished. If I hadn't used the magic of flesh and blood clay to disguise the other person as you, I'm afraid you would have encountered something unexpected now."

The man pulled down his scarf, and his face was clearly that of another Faslag.

He was shocked and angry at the horrific state of his other self's body, but that didn't mean he would immediately believe the Holy Grail Society's words.

This woman came to him not long ago and told him a story about another underground world, and made a proposal that would almost change the entire city.

A witch is certainly not trustworthy.

He grew up in Sasha City and had never heard of the existence of the Presbyterian Church. He did not believe that the Pulitzer family, which was as glorious as the Culles family, was just an agent brought to power by the monsters in the dark, so he was very neglectful of her. .

The appearance of this body to this day proves something.

"But it might be your magic. If you have magic, it will definitely not be difficult to do this kind of thing."

Even though they were discussing this kind of thing, they did not avoid the people from Hook Detective Agency. In the six months when the Dark Moon showed signs of returning, these armed security guards discovered it earlier than ordinary people through a large number of employment incident files. unusual and opened up new businesses in turn.

"Maybe." Athena looked at the corpse, with a smile on her lips, and said calmly: "The consequence of accepting my last proposal is that it will benefit you. If there are no accidents, forming an alliance is natural. Why should I go to all the trouble to do something unnecessary?"

What she said was reasonable. Faslag was slightly relieved, but at the same time he had new troubles.

"Then what should I do now? He is dead and I have to return to camp, otherwise I will be a deserter."

"Do you still want to go back to serve as a soldier?" The woman's voice contained subtle sarcasm, but it was mostly compliments: "Master Faslag, if our cooperation is successful, you can even become a millionaire. You can buy a higher title or purchase property for investment."

She put her hand on Faslag's shoulder from behind: "Let us take a longer view. As long as we endure it and be dead for the time being, we will be rewarded a thousand times or ten thousand times. As long as your brother knows you You’re still alive, no one else needs to care.”

It has always been Faslag's dream to be a soldier and then use military merit to earn a knighthood.

But since there is a more convenient way, it might as well give it a try.

Although the assassination of the Presbyterian Council meant that danger was approaching, it also proved that the intelligence brought by the Holy Grail envoy was true, which made Faslag strengthen his determination.

In a short period of time, through this body that was exactly the same as his own, he experienced the satisfaction from the future, as if he had already achieved success.

Feeling the pressure on his shoulders, he subconsciously raised his right hand and held down the woman's hand on top.

The hand was cold but soft, and he suddenly felt that this was not bad.

"After I go back, I want to see your 'sincerity' again."

Spider smiled coquettishly and leaned close to Faslag's back, biting his ear and told him: "Of course, I am sincere."