The Laws of Werewolf Hunting

Chapter 104
When officers and enlisted men are bored, they usually sit together to smoke a cigarette and occasionally chat about recent events.

This kind of process is a kind of entertainment, but most of the time it is only the entertainment of officers.

The superior ordered the subordinate to tell the secrets of their colleagues, or the shameful things they had done, and laughed at their embarrassment or pretending to smile, in this way to make fun.

Major Doron would not do that.

He finds it boring, so he just smokes.

But someone just wanted to pull him to talk.

The chaplain sat down in the rubble beside him, showing no sign of being stung, and with a serious expression that reminded him of some numb nerd at school.

"Major, you made me do the devil's work."

The major didn't care about his accusations: "Come on, we've only killed so many people to become devils, and there are devils everywhere on the front line. We rely on the devil to win, we rely on the devil to grab wealth, and we rely on the devil to win. To improve the status of our people, the entire country is prospered by the devil, and the queen even bestowed the title on the devil. I respect you, but please wash your eyes and see the reality.”

The vicar's expression was not pleasant.

Although he had the ability to refute the major on this statement, the fact that the other party would say something like this meant that any debate was invalid.

"You have your reasons, but it is also true that it is contrary to the original statement. When I went out with you, I thought it was just to send people to prison, and there was no need to shoot at all."

"Sent to prison is not enough? You don't think we can get what we want through peaceful means, do you?" The major took a deep breath of the cigarette, and let the smoke flow out from his nostrils and teeth, like a legendary evil head. The dragon is breathing.The level of technology and the quality of the tobacco made the soldiers on the side look envious: "These bastards are all ruthless characters, and some even directly provide political funds to the members of the House of Commons. If they just rob this place and let them go back alive, We're the ones in real trouble."

"This obviously doesn't make sense. Since their bosses are all ruthless characters, wouldn't the people who killed them be more likely to be retaliated against?"

Major Doron had a cigarette between his two fingers. He didn't like to explain to people, but the pastor was appointed by the church to help, and he also helped a lot during this time.

"Pastor, if I and a ragged beggar appear in front of you at the same time, and someone accuses one of us of stealing a piece of personal luggage, and we don't speak, who do you think is guilty?" He lowered his smoking hand, and the ash fell to the ground.

This question is easy to answer, but the chaplain in the army is a little bit embarrassed.

In common people's perception, of course, only those who lack money are more likely to commit crimes, but the public teachings of the Baijiao state that priests should not judge people by their appearances. If he answered this way, then he would belong to the category of people with bad conduct in the church.

"I need to observe your behavior before I can make a judgment."

"That's a way." The major nodded. "What if we all justify ourselves?"

The chaplain's answer remained unchanged: "Even if you all spoke, I would need to do some inquiries to detect lies."

"Excellent, then if one of me and this beggar opens his mouth to argue, while the other remains silent, what kind of answer will you give?"

"I think it was the man who kept silent who did the stealing, because he didn't say what he did," said the chaplain uncertainly.

Snapped!
Major Doron spit out his cigarette butt, clapped loudly, jumped up, and stood in front of the pastor with open arms. Behind him was the entrance of the tunnel where the massacre had been done before.

"That's right, now let's see who is the silent party between us and the corpses on the ground? Who can defend themselves?"

The chaplain understood at once. He wanted to stand up, but in the end he didn't.

"You're such a jerk!"

"Whatever you say, as long as we can keep our mouths open and shut, things will always have a solution, and it's a sure thing. Yes, their bosses will definitely have trouble with us, but it doesn't matter, we're not like those petty citizens, Find your own way to make a living. Holy places and military camps, these are the safest places in the world. As long as we have a legitimate reason to avoid direct punishment from the source superiors, and no one can refute us, then everything here will become irrelevant. And there will be people willing to protect us."

"Who would think so?"

"People who believe that they will do worse things than us in the future, they will have to embarrass themselves in the future if they don't speak up for us. Pastor, just wait and see, the fire is not burning now."

Having said that, Doron bent down and patted the chaplain on the shoulder.

"So don't be angry anymore. Although these people are dead, it's good for everyone when they die."

The chaplain looked into Doron's brown eyes, which hardly looked like the eyes of a middle-aged man—the flame of ambition was burning fiercely in them.

He heard that this officer was an outsider, an aristocratic soldier who retired from the most dangerous colony, and because of the habits he had developed in the past, he had been preparing for war and promotion in the peaceful Sasha City.

Now let this guy get his wish.

The pastor turned his head in fear: "I will keep silent in front of the bishop, you may as well worry about those sheriffs, those beasts pretending to be civilized, who are afraid that the world will not be chaotic"

"What are you worried about?" The major asked back with a smile: "They won't do that. These guys are no longer beasts. Beasts domesticated by civilization have lost the ability to forage in the wild. Their business in peacetime is more expensive than that." I can rob faster, maybe people in the Presbyterian Church want world peace more than us. If I am not already a nobleman, I really want to try the curse of the dark moon."

The chaplain, disgusted by such frivolous remarks, turned his face back again and looked at the major seriously.

"Don't lie."

The major shrugged at him when a voice came from behind him.

"Major Doron."

He turned and saw that it was the chief of the sheriffs, a guy with more scars than he had first seen, but still an honest jerk overall.

"Kerry Carroll"

"It's Clayton, Mr. Major. I have some confidential matters to ask you alone. Are you free now?"

"Confidential?" The major clicked his tongue, stroked his forehead with his hand, and smoothed his short blond hair back. Because he had persuaded the priest, he happened to be in high spirits and didn't mind listening to the monster's request.

He straightened the holster: "Okay, where should we choose to whisper?"

"This way is fine." The sheriff pointed in one direction.

They walked into the tunnel entrance and stopped until they made sure no one could hear them making normal communication volumes.

"Okay, let's talk about your business."

With one hand propped against the wall and the other on his hips, the major wondered what this guy wanted from him.

Then a fist hit him hard in the stomach.

Hardly any sound.

The major's body bowed quickly, and a low "uh" sound came out of his throat, but that was all.

Clayton did not continue to attack, but stood still and watched him.

"It seems that you are not an ordinary person."

The punch just now was powerful enough for most ordinary people to lose their ability to resist, but Duolong quickly adapted to it.

While bowing, the major used his left hand supporting the wall to make him roll backwards, and then drew out his gun.However, he saw that on the opposite side of him, Creighton did not attack as crazy as he imagined, but stood still.

He spit on the ground, but didn't take his eyes off him for a moment: "Are you crazy? Asked me here just to punch you?"

"No. My purpose is to beat you until you vomit. If you are not so strong, you only need to take this punch."

The major's eyes turned to the left, then retracted: "You have also been a soldier, and you attacked an officer in service. You should know the consequences."

"I don't think there will be any consequences." Clayton said coldly: "The soldiers probably don't know that the city's security department is actually in charge of the dark descendants, do you want to make things big?"

The lieutenant figured this out ten minutes ago.

Major Doron asked Barron to take away the lamp because he was afraid that the soldiers would find out that these regular sheriffs were actually the same as the enemies they advertised, and they had been living in such a heterogeneous and mixed environment. Finding the truth would affect their morale. deal a serious blow.

Although the Darkborn did not dare to cause much trouble, humans would not be willing to involve themselves in such a big event.

The Presbyterian Church is an ally of the government and a target to be wooed.

So if you just want to fight with an officer in private, there really won't be any consequences.

The major spat again, finding that he couldn't scare the guy, so he put the pistol back in its holster resentfully.

"What's the reason?"

"I don't like what you're doing."

"I thought I had already explained it at the beginning, are you not satisfied with my explanation?"

"You explained it too well." Clayton's expression was completely devoid of praise: "I want to refute you, but I can't think of how to refute, so I am very upset. At the same time, I am sure that your actions are wrong Yes, and it's all irreparable, so it's even more irritating. I do have some formal questions, but that won't take much time until you finish throwing up."

Mr. Stepan's body shows that the massacre here was an operation without personnel screening at all, and anyone may die here because of bad luck.

Clayton didn't like this feeling—it was like a man-made disaster.

"I now believe you were a good soldier," said the major, with all his heart, and that's true military style!
He looked at Clayton's pose, and he became excited again.

Observing the attacking pattern of this Darkborn is also helpful for possible future fights against each other, which is also a kind of preparation, and he has not had fun for a long time, so he is willing to accompany him.

"So it's a boxing match?"

"It's not a boxing match, I only use boxing." Clayton stretched his hands and feet and told him seriously: "You can do whatever you want, but I guarantee you will vomit."

The major stopped smiling.

"Did you know that school officials can choose to become superhumans, and nobles are born to belong to this supernatural world. It's not only by becoming a monster like you that you can gain great power."

He tossed his shirt off and his muscles began to swell, filling his white shirt.

"And I am both a nobleman and a school official. You are trying to fight against two different extraordinary inheritances. Let me see if you have the ability."

(End of this chapter)