The Laws of Werewolf Hunting

Chapter 16

Clayton tried to find a way to trouble Joe Marney, but Joe didn't give him a chance.

Clayton went to see him at the chapel in the parish of St. Mellon, but the volunteer remained absent.

He asked the priest in the church, and the other party told him that Qiao Mani was preparing for baptism, and it was not appropriate to contact outsiders.

It wasn't much of a surprise, Creighton knew he was going to be smart, but now he had to be held accountable.

Creighton was not happy that he was always keeping things secret.

The tone of the note sent by the Holy Grail is quite confident, and that tone is the tone of absolutely believing that Joe will not ask for help.Clayton was familiar with this tone, and only creditors who had a handle on the other party would speak like this.

Clayton went to Mercy Street again and wanted to leave a message in Joe's mailbox, but Joe's house was empty, and the landlord said that the residents here had withdrawn their rent.

He really had no choice but to go back and deal with his own affairs first, and wait for Joe Mani to contact him, or ask the priest of the small church of St. Mellon Parish after a while.

Maybe in a few weeks, Joe will be able to combine the power of the church to solve the Holy Grail.

However, after being frustrated, Clayton's anger gradually calmed down.

The Grail threat isn't all bad.

Taking advantage of the recent free time, he contacted the property insurance company and insured all the items in the store with appraisal certificates.

As long as the time limit falls within this year, no matter what night the rusted silver coins are completely looted and burned, Clayton will not lose a bit, and even make a small profit.

The insurance contract is relatively lenient, which is also the benefit of the long-term good law and order environment in Sasha City.

He returned home in the carriage and sorted out the mailbox again.

With informants all over the city to help him collect valuable things, and to keep in touch with friends, his mailbox is hardly empty on a single day.

The landlady's maid informed Clayton that he had taken his order of carpaccio to the cellar, and he arranged for himself to enjoy it in the evening.

At night, he would eat and drink in the cellar.

Because he is a werewolf, he can replenish his physical strength by eating, and Clayton can even stay up all night.

The werewolf's strength and shape-shifting abilities can also be improved through exercise, and he won't let himself sit idle at night.

In the next morning, he would return to his human form, chew some natural spice powder as a deodorant, and continue to deal with the rusted silver coins in Sasha City and surrounding areas after freshening up in the bathroom.

In the past, he would often feel sore muscles and joints due to old injuries acquired during his military career, but after becoming a werewolf, those injuries healed without medicine.

From an objective point of view, except for the Holy Grail Society, the current changes in his life are actually considered good things.

But the Holy Grail Society alone was enough to cancel out all his good mood.

Some people died because of the Holy Grail Society, and those grotesque subordinates were all locals of Sasha City, which meant that the messengers of the Holy Grail Society were quietly attacking the local ordinary people, and their danger exceeded Clayton's initial expectations.

Therefore, he wrote a letter, asking Tritis to think again, or wait for his next reply before bringing Donna to live in Sasha City.

The date of the blood relative meeting was postponed again, and I don't know if there will be a chance in the future.

If Clayton caught the Holy Grail bastards, it would not be enough to kill them a thousand times.

Clayton toiled at home, answering every letter that came.

In the afternoon, he hired a carriage to search in a planned way.

Last time on the Harpy, he collected some useful scents, which were different from the cheap perfume in the "Broken Wing Angel" strip club.

The smell was like the smell of some fresh, untouched cloth, and Clayton had smelled it once, but because it was only once and the experience was so insignificant in his memory, he forgot that it belonged to What does it smell like.

However, he deduced that this should be the smell brought by some kind of dye.

Just search through all the dye shops in the eight parishes of Sasha City, and you will be sure to find clues.

The Holy Grail Society has killed two monitors, and they will not send new recruits in the short term, so they were picked out during this period.

But what Clayton didn't notice was that his reputation among the coachmen seemed to have changed a little.

The coachman he hired looked at him strangely:

"With all due respect, sir, I've heard some bad rumors about you from my fellow fellows."

Clayton went around and got on the car, he couldn't remember who he had offended:
"Maybe it's a rumor, right?" He said casually.

The coachman smiled: "I think so, how could someone suddenly take off their clothes and jump out of the carriage while riding in it?

Clayton couldn't help but laugh.

He finally realized that so far, he had not lost nothing in his confrontation with the Holy Grail.

First, a black top hat with a large brim was pressed on the short brown hair, and then a thick black cotton shirt wrapped around the upper body.

High-heeled boots and a cage-handed swift sword are essential, and finally the short musket is inserted in the holster at the waist.

Marietta looked in the mirror, not because she wanted to be beautiful, but to make sure some of the laces were in the right place.

Before leaving the bedroom, she took one last look in the mirror.

The figure in military uniform in the mirror was vaguely similar to the father she saw when she was a child.

Today is also a day of justice for maintaining law and order in the city.

Marie Etta had her own day job, writing and reading letters for the illiterate, for sixty pounds a year.

Maybe a little less as a decent person, but she still inherited her father's inheritance, which allowed her to live without work and carefree for ten years, and it was more than enough as a dowry.

"I'm going out, Mom."

she said to the woman in the rocking chair in the living room.

The woman was four or five points like Mary in appearance, and no one would doubt that she was a beauty when she was young.It's just that she was wrapped in layers of overly tight woolen clothes, her face was pale, she didn't look very healthy, and she was a bit older than her real age.

She opened her dull eyes and turned her face to Mary: "Are you leaving again?"

"Will be back, I promise."

Marie Etta opened the door and looked outside, then couldn't help but step back and hugged her mother.

"Auntie Fishy will be here in a while. She can cook stew better than me."

There was no wave on her mother's face, and she pushed her away as if facing a stranger.

"I see, you go quickly."

Mary nodded, and this time she really left the house.

As a daughter, she longed for everything her father left behind, including this city with a long history and culture.

Keeping Sasha City looking good is as natural and imperative to her as putting slices of cheese and ham in the middle of toast.

Her father, a ranger, had taught her how to fight with a gun and a sword, so Marie was a perfect sheriff.

No one in the Sheriff's Department would tease her about her gender and say that women shouldn't wield weapons—because she was an occasional marksman there, and there were very few people better than her.

On top of that, she has a great teacher who is also a great partner.

Although she has the defect of being unable to recognize people, she never received any complaints when she was partnered with that man.

Before the sunset completely set, Mary walked into the luxurious Public Security Department building, where a heavily armed male security officer was already waiting for her at the front desk.

"Mary, today's patrol schedule has been set, you go to the stables to get the horses out."

"Yes, Mr. Gaylard," Mary responded enthusiastically.

Although it was an order, she didn't feel bored. The order from the superior to the subordinate was a sign of approval.

Moreover, the horses of the Public Security Department are actually not enough, and the other party never rides a horse. The so-called order to lead the horse is just another manifestation of concern.

She led the horse out of the stable, and asked in the sound of kicking, "Sir, where are we going today?"

"Saint Sollot Diocese," Garyd said, holding the dog without looking back, "protect yourself, we may also encounter those patients today."

Yes, patient.

Marie Etta's heart tightened, and she regained her vigilance.

There seems to be a strange disease spreading in this city recently. Although the patients are wearing clothes, they don't look very human in appearance and are quite aggressive.

If it hadn't been for Mr. Gellard to explain that it was a terrible plague from the colony, I'm afraid she would have taken it as a legendary monster and panicked.

As it turns out, muskets and swords can still stop them.

As pitiful as it was, there was no cure for the virulent plague, and killing the sick and cremating them was the only way to protect the city.

In order not to cause panic, the work had to be done in secret.

(End of this chapter)