Werewolf hunting rules

After leaving Gronje, Clayton immediately walked back.

It was already early in the morning, the sky was white, and his family was empty.

Bruno had already left with the developed photos.

Judging by the concentration of the lingering odor, this could have happened within half an hour.

Clayton checked the door lock of the study. He had locked the door before leaving to prevent Bruno's curiosity.

There was no mark left on the door lock, and nothing else was missing. He was relieved.

Then he saw the developer splashing on the ground, and he couldn't feel relieved again.

Without changing his clothes for going out, Clayton went to the study and picked up the snakewood cane sword he had brought to Pulitzer's house before, preparing to go out again.

He still had some things to figure out.

The apparent reason why Bruno came to his house was that he was addicted to occultism and wanted to communicate more about divination with Julius, and also develop photos along the way.

The detective's reasons were impeccable, but his actions were a little too eager.

It's hard to find a taxi at night. It takes a few streets to find one that's still in business.

And the detectives themselves are ordinary people, and ordinary people are not so energetic at night.

Bruno has always been a person who is responsible for his work, but his health is not good. After retiring, he drank alcohol and took sedatives for a long time, making him more unresponsive than before and suffering from drowsiness.

Such a person is still at work, but because of personal hobbies, he comes to another parish late at night, so that the return time is too long, and there is a high probability that he will not get enough rest, which will affect his work the next day.

Clayton thought this behavior was ridiculous.

Unless coming to St. Mored Parish is a time-saving and efficient choice for Bruno's work.

And the detective's current job is related to the Broken Wing Angel Club, so Clayton has to think more.

The lieutenant went outside, put his stick under his arm, and locked the door of the house.

Before leaving, he couldn't help but sigh at the lacquered wood door panel, feeling that his life recently was really busier than work.

At two o'clock in the morning, it should have been a quiet time, but the slums of St. Mored Parish were still very lively.

Bruno carried a bag containing photos and looked around cautiously on the dark streets. He brought a dagger, but this did not give him much confidence.

He was once a scout, but his strength was limited compared to ordinary people. His biggest advantage was running fast.

But in recent years, his bad habit of drinking has gradually made him lose this advantage. He is prone to joint pain when encountering cold weather, especially in this season.

Here, the air is moist, cold and sticky, getting into collars and sleeves pervasively, and climbing wantonly on people's skin.

The detective couldn't help but bundle up tightly, but he also felt refreshed.

He walked quietly. In the house behind the old wall on the left, I don't know what caused the first dog barking. Then sporadic responses came from all directions. After the silence was broken, there was another commotion.

Probably the owner of the house discovered that there was a burglar in his house.

Although it was only a few blocks away from Clayton's area, the feeling of poverty was overwhelming.

The streets here are dirty, the streetlights are broken, and no sheriff is willing to patrol here.

The security force of Sasha City is a drop in the bucket compared to the huge population, and many areas cannot be governed.

But if you think about it carefully, this is blameless.

Under the flickering street lights, Bruno breathed a sigh of relief, put the photo bag under his arm again, rubbed his hands and face to keep warm, and regained his temperature a little.

He heard that in the Royal City, the Queen had established a new security agency called the "Royal Police" to manage Asia and Singapore. Together with the Royal Guards in service, a total of 30,000 armed men were defending the Royal City. But even so, vicious injuries were Events are still in four figures every year, and they are not barely breaking through four figures.

The city of Sasha is one-third smaller than Kiaxin, with one-sixth the number of people, but the number of police officers is less than 1,000, less than one-thirtieth of Yaxin’s security force.

Thinking about it this way, the local police officer still performed well.

While he was thinking, he searched for street signs until he stopped in front of a house that didn't look too surprising from its appearance.

Bruno knocked on the door, it opened from the inside, and he walked in.

In addition to the person who opened the door for him, there were two people sitting in the hall. On the table in the middle were playing cards and wine bottles. These three people all have pure Dornish-style blond hair, and their looks are unremarkable, and they seem to be disguised. At the same time, the body shape gives people a lean feeling.

At this moment, they all raised their heads to look at Bruno, their eyes separated from the gambling game, rational and cold.

While watching, the detective took out the developed photos from his pocket and scattered them on the table. They were immediately attracted to them.

"The evidence has been found, I guess I'm not too late."

He was approached by these people three months ago and asked to serve their commander.

Royal Intelligence Department, that's the name of their agency.

Those clerks were called nightingales.

Of course, Bruno was not officially a Nightingale, he was just an official informant, or so he was called.

Because of his status as a retired soldier, he is fairly trusted.

But this trust was not enough for these people to tell him their real names.

One of the people whose name cannot be named was the first to look through the photos, then passed them to another person and walked into the room himself.

"Not only are you not late, you are also two days earlier than we expected. But this is not safe enough." The person who was checking the photos said, while he was talking, he looked at the photos seriously.

Although no one appears in the photo, some traces are clearly not something Bruno could have done.

Bruno found a chair and sat in front of him. After hearing what the other party meant, he asked: "What's the problem? You didn't say that I have to do this alone. This is a special situation. Without an assistant, I can't do it for a week." We can’t figure it out. Before the investigation is concluded, those dancers might come back.”

Just removing those stage planks was laborious enough.

Members of the Intelligence Unit were noncommittal: "Who else was involved in this investigation?"

"A friend of mine and a loyal warrior of the kingdom."

The intelligence officer looked up and examined Bruno: "Do you think he will be willing to join us?"

He didn't ask the friend's name in detail, or maybe he thought it wasn't important.

Bruno thought for a moment: "He is not short of money, but I can help you ask."

He originally thought that Clayton had also become a subordinate of the Royal Intelligence Department, but now it seemed that was not the case, otherwise Nightingale would not have known about him.

"Forget it." The nightingale simply ended the topic.

They also observed Bruno for a long time before deciding to contact him. For a completely unfamiliar person, rash contact will only expose themselves one-sidedly.

The nightingale who entered the room before came out, holding a camera smaller than the smallest model sold on the market. He took a closer look at the photos on the table. Every few seconds, the spotlight turned on, taking in all the photos. The person's face turned pale, but he didn't make any sound.

After a few minutes, the flashing stopped.

"Last question, what did you think when you saw those runes?" Nightingale, who was always sitting, asked.

"I was happy because I always felt that those things existed, and its appearance proved me right," Bruno recalled, holding his knees.

Hearing this answer, a smile appeared on Nightingale's face, and he pushed the photos in the direction of the detective: "Take them and give them to your current employer as he asked, but don't act so fast again , Caroline is a very cautious person."

"Of course, I don't want to be jealous of him yet. He gave me a lot of money."

Bruno smiled at Nightingale's reminder, gathered the photos on the table and put them in his bag, and then left as quietly as he came.

"What do you think of him?" Nightingale, who was taking the photo, asked.

"His qualities are not bad. You can consider retaining him." Nightingale, who talked to Bruno the most, replied.

Nightingale, who opened the door, had a different opinion: "I don't think so. He has a habit of drinking, and he is only useful to us if he stays here."

"Then let's observe it for a while."

They reached a consensus.