The Laws of Werewolf Hunting

Chapter 17 Perseverance

In the small alley at night, a few lights flickered in the darkness, higher or lower.

It was the light of a cigarette.

Lanterns illuminated the alley as Marietta rode by.

Five men with cropped heads raised one hand to cover their eyes, and hid the other behind their backs. One of them was squatting and almost fell because of his imbalance.

Mary reined in the horses to stop, and shouted into the alley, "What must be done at night?"

A man inside put down his hand, squinted his eyes and responded, "It's nothing, let's go right away."

They looked at the long-barreled shotguns in the holsters on the side of the horses with apprehension, as well as Gelid, who was carrying a rifle next to him, and the black dog he was leading. Then they all turned their backs and went deeper into the alley. Hidden out of sight of the magistrate,

Everyone knew that such a person would not be easy to obey, but that was the end of the sheriff's power.

In the absence of certainty that these men committed a crime, at most they went over and whipped them a few times, and that was of no avail.

The Parish of Saint-Solot is a so-called ghetto, full of addicts and criminals.

Most of the people here are craftsmen and manual laborers. They cannot afford to rent a whole house, and often several families are crowded together. This kind of cramped and depressing living environment catalyzes the occurrence of crimes, and the civilians involved in crimes also It is easy to lose their jobs, and the poor who have lost their jobs cannot afford to rent a house, so they can only go out at night and wander around, looking for places to spend the night.

And when a person can no longer survive, he will sin.

People believe that crimes at night are more difficult to identify, so they are less scruples and more willing to commit crimes than during the day.

Life in the slums has thus formed a vicious circle.

Poverty is the soil of evil, and experienced sheriffs often worry about the patrol tasks assigned here.

Although the people here are poor, it is not difficult to get a few guns.

Mary glanced at Gayled, who was walking leisurely with the dog in front, and felt admiration in her heart.

She would not have come here if she hadn't been accompanied by this old hand, because she felt ashamed of her own cowardice in the face of evil.

Tonight is the same as usual, dealing with premeditated criminals and "patients".

There is also a patient today.

In another alley, they found a patient who was eating wild cats. The patient's face was covered with tiny rod-like protrusions like bird quills, and he did not hide his desire to attack when he saw them.

In order to reduce the possibility of exposure, they took him quietly with the swift sword and the bayonet attached to the musket.

After solving this problem, the next two hours were smooth sailing.

Glancing at the time on the pocket watch, Galid took Mary back, because the other party's duty time was over.

The next batch of people on patrol will come over to dispose of the corpse, and he will come back to help when the time comes.

After years of influence and infiltration, the clerks who lined the sheriff's patrol routes also became Presbyterians.

Many of the night shifts in the sheriff are dark descendants, and ordinary people will be assigned to be on duty in richer parishes, so there are fewer aggressive newborns.

It doesn't matter if things go wrong occasionally and people find out the reality of the existence of the Darkin, at most it will add a few strange stories to the city.

And ghost talk is the kind that many people discuss, but few people take it seriously.

"Gallid, has anyone figured out the transmission routes of those diseases?"

On the way back, Mary was still thinking about those strange-looking patients. Although her innate problems made her always forget other people's faces and couldn't imagine anything tangible in her mind, the "patients" were still left to her. impressed.

If one had to assign a label to their appearance, it would be "beast".

"Who knows, our sheriff doesn't care about this, medicine is too far away from us." Gelid remembered that what the other party said was his own lie to explain the existence of dark descendants,

He looked ahead at the street, the street was full of fog tonight, it was worth his extra attention to be vigilant.

Although there is still only one moon in the sky, he knows that the dark moon is approaching, which is derived from his intuitive sense.

Not just the darkin, but the wizards will be restored to their former powers.

The right to speak of the Dark Ones will gradually increase in this era.

But Galid is a contented man, and he hopes that his life will remain the same as it is now for as long as he lives.

Not noticing that Gelid's thinking was not in the dialogue, Marie Aita went on to say her own thoughts: "Maybe we should suspend the development of the colony and send the plague into the country for gold. This is no different from crime."

Gaylid collected his thoughts, he was noncommittal:

"What a crazy idea, but the queen and the ministers won't agree. You know how much manpower they put into getting that wealth. The Loren Wars alone killed 30 men. This low contagion Disease is nothing compared to war."

Although the plague was just a lie, if it really existed, he also believed that the nobles in the capital Yaxin City would make such a choice.

"Do you feel a little unbearable to kill people?" Gelid asked, and he already had the answer in his heart.

After all, it's just a little girl.

Mary admitted this frankly: "Yes, killing those patients made me feel very guilty. Now I occasionally think about dismissing the sheriff."

Galid regretted that he hadn't noticed this sooner and intervened.

He slowed down and stood side by side with Marie Aita's horse, and tried to hold back: "But we also saved a lot of people, didn't we? We sent patients who still kept their sense to the clinic, and you have seen them recover The way they look. It’s thanks to you that they were able to recover.”

It's hard to find someone who is so gullible and willing to work.

The Public Security Department does not have other dark descendants, but they may not have Mary's enthusiasm for work. They always let their blood and arrogance prevail and deal with newborns roughly, causing some newborns who should have joined the Presbyterian Church according to the regulations to die. , or became hostile to the Presbyterian Church and fled to other cities.

"That's right, that's one of the reasons to encourage me to keep going." Mary smiled: "Don't worry, it's just a small setback. I'm not that fragile yet."

Galid breathed a sigh of relief: "Yes, you are different from other girls, you are stronger than them, and you are also hardworking."

"But I also have some things I want to ask you for help."

Mary respects this senior very much, but it is not too much to use tricks to make the other party give in once in a while.

Although Gelid didn't say it explicitly, she also faintly felt that she had gradually become an indispensable existence.

The conditions that can be used must be used, otherwise justice cannot be maintained.

"I am investigating a man recently. He is good at playing with favor and justice with money. He can even convince a sheriff who has never seen a murder scene to believe that he is innocent. It's just that I don't have much time to find him in person. Detectives have been fruitless. But if a veteran full-time sheriff like you is willing to make a move, I think he will be able to catch him."

Mary knew that Galiled was not young, but every time she took action to subdue the criminal, she was clean and neat, and she had complete trust in the opponent's ability.

Gelid didn't know this. He recalled carefully, but he couldn't remember that such a suspicious person was involved in the case recently.

However, he has been asking Marie Aita for help without any return, and he began to worry that she would really leave the Public Security Department one day, and then he would return to the previous life of only two days off in two weeks.

"Okay, I'll help you. Tell me who he is."

"His name is Clayton Bello, and he lives in Marlin Street, St. Mored."

Galid didn't continue to listen to the rest of the story. Mary could not have as much information as he did, because Clayton himself had filled out a form for him not long ago.

This is trouble.

Just when he was in trouble, a rented carriage came out from the corner of the street and forced them to stop.

The coachman was sitting in the driver's seat chatting with the passengers: "Mr. Bello, your current clothes are really good, but compared to those in Mrs. Letz's shop."

The carriage drove past in front of his face with a gust of wind, and the coachman reached the west side of Cross Street before he finished speaking, and he could no longer hear what he said clearly.

"Bello doesn't seem like a common surname."

Marietta sighed as she looked at the back of the carriage.

Gelled looked towards the direction the carriage was driving, that street was a dead end, and following his line of sight, the pale silhouette of the workhouse stood against the night background.

Fortunately, it took only two days for Creighton to find the scent clue.

He smelled the same in the workhouse in St. Solot parish.

Although it was different from the guessed dyeing workshop, Clayton didn't feel that he had found the wrong place, because Joe Mani was also here, and Clayton could smell him.

This shouldn't be a coincidence, the werewolf thought,

It should be that Joe found the Holy Grail one step faster than him, but it was not clear what happened between them, or what was happening.

It was late at night when he followed the smell to find the poorhouse, and the poorhouse closed its doors to see no outsiders, so he couldn't see Joe that day, so he could only visit again the next day.

The priest of the chapel in the diocese of St. Mellon knew where Joe was. Clayton speculated that Joe had found the Holy Grail through the power of the White Cult, otherwise he would not have found the clue faster than him.

At five o'clock the next night, he rode a carriage again to St. Solot Parish.

Because it was beyond the time for accepting homeless people, the black iron hollow door of the workhouse was closed tightly, the latch was locked, and the only guard was taking a nap on the chaise longue behind the door.

Clayton walked over and said the spell, and the door opened.

"I'm here to donate money, please open the door."

(End of this chapter)