Werewolf hunting rules

Clayton underestimated the significance of the Dark Moon.

The changes in this mysterious star are like natural disasters to mortals, completely uncontrollable.

Even for people who have mastered certain extraordinary powers, their relatives still cannot avoid the fate of being alienated.

No matter how noble the bloodline is, it is possible to be transformed into the "despicable beast" in the propaganda of the past.

In the face of fear, people regain their faith.

Even the most extreme infidels are shaken and forced to admit that there is something beyond mortal imagination in the world.

If there was no existence of the Supreme Being, no opposition between light and darkness, and no mysterious spiritual power from the ancient stars, how could ordinary people transform into these twisted creatures that could only appear in the nightmares of drunkards?

In order to resist inner unrest, people regained their faith.

The manifestation of this phenomenon on the material level is that the church's voice has increased, and clergy have therefore received more courtesy and respect.

At the moment, this pattern is clear.

Of course, the officials in charge of civil affairs only have to deal with statistics and management work with paper documents, and naturally they do not care about the bishop's thoughts. However, because the major's work requires a lot of cooperation from the church, he is more concerned about the bishop's opinion when it comes to religious-related matters. manner.

"Their spirits are too fragile and not suitable for the current work." The bishop answered Clayton on behalf of Major Doron.

Clayton didn't believe him.

The Salvation Army people are a bit paranoid, but their core members are experienced and have served and fought in some of the harshest environments in the world (although this is also the reason for their restlessness and sensitivity).

They are soldiers and should be put in positions where they are needed.

But it seems that no one here is willing to answer his questions in depth.

They asked some more questions about what the coroner Achil said and what they saw and heard in the military hospital. The questions they asked were very detailed, but the most important role-the Holy Grail Society was selectively forgotten. .

After the last business-related question, the official's pen was pressed down on the paper to record the end time, and then the pen cap was capped.

"Barbara and Volentin are also members of your Presbyterian Church, right? Are they here?"

"I didn't see them."

The officer called the soldiers in again, but got the same answer.

So after the soldiers went out, he turned to the major and asked: "Major Doron, do your soldiers really know where they live?"

The officer answered him angrily: "The information was obtained from your Health Bureau."

They inadvertently exposed the fact that the information about the members of the Presbyterian Church had already been found, and their previous claims were just to test the attitude of the people being questioned.

However, Clayton didn't care about this method. He was even more curious about the official's status in the Health Bureau.

Why would the government send a health bureau official to deal with dark people?

"Does Mr. Bello know where they are?"

"I'm not sure where they usually are." Clayton replied half-seriously.

In his opinion, it was strange for those people to stay in the Pulitzer Mansion all the time. Even if they became dark descendants, they should have their own home.

Several elders of the Presbyterian Church usually don't seem to need any combatants. Rather than being hired, those dark descendants are more likely to run away from home after being afraid of society and family, and then happen to stay in a place where they will not be excluded, and bring the elders to their homes. The meeting's base is used as a sanatorium.

But precisely because of this, they can leave at any time, so Clayton's statement is not entirely wrong.

There was silence in the room for a while, except for the sound of officials turning papers.

The official, who didn't know which department he worked in, flipped through the previous transcript and seemed to be checking whether Clayton's statement was consistent. Then he put down the stack of paper and looked at the others.

"Do you guys have any more questions?"

"I do, but it has nothing to do with the subject of this interrogation." The bishop said, "If Mr. Bello is willing, we can talk about it later."

"Just now, I have something to do later."

The bishop was helpless at Clayton's vigilance and had no choice but to say frankly: "I noticed that you seem to have some special talents. If you are willing to accept employment, we can also establish a long-term agreement and provide some corresponding help."

He said it tactfully.

Others may only know Clayton's dark descendant identity, but cannot tell the specific race, but the church is different. They have been dealing with dark descendants for a long time.

Clayton also understood that his werewolf identity was exposed, but he did not refuse to cooperate.

The Presbyterian Church did not care about the interests of its members, and the Holy Grail Society was too cruel. Compared with them, the image of the traditional church seemed amiable in his mind.

Before heading to Weiordi to join the werewolf clan, it is a very cost-effective plan to make friends with the local church.

There's only one problem.

"I would say I do, but I have a job and am the Sheriff in St. Alvin Parish at night."

Clayton calculated it and found that it was easier when he was still a human.

Is this the price of power?

"It doesn't matter, this is not a problem." The bishop smiled and did not say the specific content of the cooperation: "We will contact you later, if your address has not changed."

They had no more questions, so Clayton walked out of the room.

The people in the corridor remained unchanged, there were still two soldiers and Marietta sitting on the bench.

The presence of the latter surprised Clayton.

The main thing that surprised him was the purposeful way she walked towards him, as if she were waiting for him.

Since there was only one person in the room being questioned, there was no need to worry about identifying the wrong person.

"Can we find a place to talk?"

Clayton tightened his collar and thought about the reason for his recent sudden popularity.

"Of course, Miss Mary, you choose the place." He responded in a gentlemanly manner while thinking.

Twenty minutes later they were sitting in a beer hall.

Clayton looked silently at Marietta and the full wine glasses on the table. Each glass was bigger than his hand. The foam on the beer had flowed to the table and was sticky.

Marietta drank half the glass in one go, but saw that Clayton made no movement.

"Is this weird?"

"I thought ladies wouldn't have the habit of drinking." Clayton looked complicated. Even before he turned into a werewolf and his sense of smell was not so sensitive, he didn't like beer because his sharp tongue could always taste the brewing ingredients. The sour and bitter taste.

He prefers home-brewed country-style liqueur to beer.

"Because it's beer, it doesn't count as alcoholism." Marietta defended with a logic that no one had heard: "I bought it for two people, and the other half is for you."

As she spoke, Clayton counted the drinks on the table.

The two of them drank a gallon of beer together, which saved them from eating, but it was unsightly to go back with a swollen stomach.

But he is not completely unable to drink now, and he also personally told Mary to choose a place at will.

A few drinks now and then wouldn't be a bad thing, he convinced himself.

After finishing a glass in one go, Clayton asked Marietta why she was looking for him, but even if she didn't say it, he knew the answer had nothing to do with his charm.

It is no exaggeration to say that he is considered a handsome man in the eyes of the public, but this advantage may not exist in Mary's eyes.

In a world without beauty and ugliness, would people become noble because they lose their desires?

Clayton suddenly had this idea, thought about it briefly, and concluded that he had a high look at Mary.

Although she doesn't know the answer, this girl has been practicing it herself.

Mary didn't know his random thoughts, so she drank half the glass without hesitation, put down the glass, pulled out the gun from her waist and pressed it on the table.

Of course she wasn't challenging the lieutenant to a duel, she was just showing off the gun.

This is a revolver with a black barrel and a white grip. The magazine has six empty chambers. Based on the thickness of the barrel and the shape of the sight, it can be judged that its style is the same as Creighton’s gun. It is a Ranger revolver that can only be customized in the military. Its accuracy and rate of fire are better than most pistols on the market.

"I want to know how the owner of this gun died?" She said in a dull voice, wondering if the wine in her mouth had not been swallowed.

Clayton picked up the revolver and inspected it for signs of use.

Unlike him, the owner of this gun used it so often that there were even finger marks on the grip.

This should be the weapon of a battle-hardened warrior.

"Who owns it?"

"my father."