Werewolf hunting rules

To be honest, although Clayton is not a religious person, he still has plans to send his body to the church cemetery after his death.

Because that's what most decent people choose.

But the management method of Wandering Street Church made it impossible for him to trust it anymore.

If a cemetery manager allows his dog to urinate on a tombstone, then there is no trustworthy person in the world.

"How could such a thing happen?! We never knew William did this. It seems that it has always been an evil creature." The divine servant was embarrassed, but fortunately no one would contradict him, and he could still shirk part of the responsibility from the dog. On the body.

It was too late for him to defend himself, and Clayton's attitude toward them was irreversible.

"The scent tracking method is no longer useful. I want to know what abnormalities this dog has been exposed to before."

"Abnormal." The divine servant thought thoughtfully: "Maybe we should check the body again. William has always been very picky. It was like this before."

They retraced their steps, back to the open tombs.

For the sake of efficiency, the corpse dug out and chewed by William was not stuffed back by the priests.

They had work to do and couldn't keep looking at this place, and the dog could dig up the buried body at any time, so temporary corrections were useless.

Compared with competing with dogs, it is more labor-saving and convenient to directly close the cemetery.

The corpses in the southern part of the cemetery are all newly buried corpses, so they are more popular with William in the selection of ingredients.

Of course, it is precisely because they are fresh that they seem unbearable at the moment.

With the scent gone, Clayton had to focus more on the condition of the body.

Some of them were damaged and disemboweled, while others remained largely intact with only minor damage to their clothing.

The Divine Attendant explained: "It dug up a lot of corpses, but not all of them were bitten. It was as if it found the corpses distasteful and didn't touch them again. Now that I think about it, there may be some hidden meaning in it. The pattern is something we haven't discovered yet. If we can master this pattern, we can sprinkle cocoa powder on the carcasses it likes in advance."

He didn't want to talk about the poisoning in cold terms, so he kept some human warmth.

Anyway, the corpses here are anointed with ointment and holy salt before being buried, and adding a little spice is not too much.

"Then let me first express my gratitude to you on behalf of the deceased." Clayton said sarcastically or not.

His eyes swept over the exposed bodies, but found no consistency. Although winter is about to enter, the corpses will continue to rot, their smells are almost mixed, and only some of the remaining attributes are showing off.

Male, female, old, young.

All things other than these four attributes pass away, and they seem to become purer as the body decays.

The smell of a man is as easy to distinguish from the smell of a woman as fish and chicken. Even if an old man dies, his bones are filled with the strong smell of the old house. A young girl who died unexpectedly still retains a sense of greenness from the growth of buds.

"There are no children. It doesn't eat children." Clayton concluded.

It is not that there are no children here. Even though winter has not yet arrived, more than three digits of teenagers die every year in various dioceses due to various accidents.

There are six gravestones commemorating these children here alone, but none of them have been excavated.

"William is illiterate, he's just a dog. Even if the tombstone has the dates of birth and death engraved on it, he doesn't know how old the people buried here are." At this point, the divine attendant suddenly discovered that there was indeed no grave for the young deceased. The signs were being excavated, and Clayton's conclusion was correct. He couldn't help frowning and hesitated for a while, then opened his mouth: "It's really like this, strange. We all know that children's meat is more tender than adults. If I were William, I would definitely give priority."

"Wait!" Clayton interrupted. The lieutenant couldn't stand this guy anymore. This kind of speech sounded more like a werewolf than him.

"We can talk about these things later. You come here and help me turn over these tombstones first. I want to see the information of the deceased, or you can bring over any dead names you have."

The god stopped talking and came to work.

After about twenty minutes, they finished this step.

Those heavy stone tombstones were collectively turned over with the writing side facing up. Many of the devoured corpses were dragged away from their original locations, and their identities needed to be re-identified. Clayton returned the corpses that matched the attributes not far from them to their original locations according to the names and ages recorded on the tombstones. Bit. This may not be accurate, but it works.

He pulled out the leg that had sunk into the soil due to excessive force, and patted the soil, feeling a sense of joy in labor.

"Read the information about the 'victim' over there. I want to sort it out." He said to the Divine Attendant.

The latter looked at the tombstone at his feet and adjusted his tone to a serious tone.

"Elizabeth, who died at the age of 52, worked as a tailor, that's all."

"Jackson, 37 years old, was a painter. He died just last month. The cause of death was that he fell from the roof and broke his head."

After looking at the nearest tombstone, the Divine Attendant left the spot and moved to another tombstone:

"Anderson, 31, employment unknown, cause of death unknown, but sent by the parish council."

"Oberon has only one name and is missing half of his head. It is said that he stuck his head into the power room because he was curious about how the factory machines operated, but this is just a rumor."

"Gray, a 23-year-old female textile factory worker, was swept up into the air by a machine due to a machine malfunction. Her skin and flesh were torn and she bled to death. Her father came here once and hoped to take the body back for a funeral in the church in his hometown, but later due to lack of Plans were put on hold because of money.”

While the divine attendant was introducing these dead people to Clayton, Clayton was also paying attention to the tombstones around him.

He noticed that there was very little information on the tombstones, and none of them had any epitaphs on them.

This is obviously closely related to the financial strength of the deceased. Their family members cannot afford to have these words engraved, or the family members of the deceased are simply not around and cannot organize their funerals. The city government can only pay for the placement of their remains.

When it comes to using smell to identify the physical condition of the deceased, Clayton can understand.

But what exactly does a dog do to understand the differences between rich and poor humans?

Clayton told the Divine Attendant his conclusion, and was naturally questioned.

The divine attendant's expression was not very good: "Are you asking me to understand that William is still a dog that dislikes poverty and loves wealth? I'm afraid it doesn't have such high intelligence to distinguish between humans."

He put his hands on his hips and his expression suddenly changed again.

"Maybe you're right. I remember what these people have in common."

"What is it?"

"They were all outsiders who came here to look for work, and most of them died in accidents."

The reason why I say most is because when some of the deceased were brought in, the people responsible for transporting the corpses were not willing to stay longer to tell the cause of their death, so the blank of the cause of death could not be filled in, but the priests could tell by the look of the corpses. That was never a natural death.

However, the Divine Attendant overturned this conclusion the next moment. He shook his head and rejected himself: "No, no, no, that's not right either. There are still some exceptions."

"Who are the exceptions?"

"A woman died last month, but she was not buried here." The priest recalled: "In fact, she was the first unfortunate person whose body was eaten, but it was just a small bite. We all thought at the time William is just starving."

"You still allow dogs to eat corpses?!" Clayton's wolf eyes widened, his pupils shrank to a point, and he stared at the divine servant sharply.

The young priest waved his hands, unnaturally responding to this power: "It was just an accident, we did not let it eat the corpse. The corpse fell off the stretcher at that time, and William helped us drag it, so I took a bite. But now, I really can’t tell what that beast was thinking.”

Clayton didn't want to talk nonsense with him anymore.

"Take me there."