The Laws of Werewolf Hunting

Chapter 21 Inappropriate Timing

How did the chandelier become like this, and why she attacked herself, Clayton no longer wanted to understand.

The revenge psychology catalyzed by nature occupies the high ground of thought.

The heavy double bed flipped and flew up, hitting the white wall heavily, leaving many pieces.

The chandelier, which called itself Clara, quickly moved its limbs before it was photographed. A dozen legs beat the wall in turn, crawling out of the attack range like a real spider.

This scalp-numbing action suddenly brought Creighton back to a little sanity.

He asked himself, "Do I really want to eat something that disgusting?"

But soon this bit of reason was overwhelmed by nature.

"It might be nice to remove the head."

Instead of chasing up and attacking, he squatted on the ground, picked up the spider leg he had knocked down and stuffed it in his mouth to chew. The shell was as tough as a wooden stick, but the taste of the meat inside reminded him of lobster meat.

Not enough, he wants more.

The pupils of the werewolf began to shrink, locking on to the only prey in this area.

Spider Woman looked at him apprehensively, then raised her head and let out a scream.

A large group of flames spewed out from Clayton's body immediately, and the burning sensation drove him completely mad.

He jumped up with the flames, and when Clara raised his forelimbs to prepare for the fight, he suddenly reached out and inserted his hand into the ceiling. He used his strength to jump to a higher position, and the change of direction was so fast that people couldn't react.

Because of the difference in height, originally his front was in front of Spider-woman on the wall, but now it was behind Spider-woman's defenseless.

This is the difference between three-dimensional combat and plane combat.

Even if he loses his mind, Creighton will still instinctively formulate tactics.

"Clara will win!"

The human head on the spider's body has no time to turn to observe the rear. Any displacement action made at this time will be caught up, and this situation will continue.

There is no point in moving.

So she raised her sharp hind legs, and her densely packed spider legs stood up obliquely like a spear array, trying to curb the werewolf's attack from behind.

But Clayton's limbs braced against the wall for another bounce, and his body flipped around the spikes.

At this moment, his body is at the same height as Spider Woman's,

Clayton could see the top of his head with its thick blond hair.

He stretched out his hands, held the head of the person without any attacking organs in his hands, and then used the power of his body to throw her out
"Clara turned into a shot put!"

Spider Woman wailed and smashed her head against the ground.

The ground won.

Half of her head was sunken, but it re-grew at a speed visible to the naked eye, but the speed was not as fast as when the leg was broken.

She propped up the spider's body, and the color began to fade, simulating the color of the environment. Twenty or so long legs moved quickly without being affected by the injury, and ran towards the door of the room.

Clayton rushed out, but there was nothing in the corridor.

Clara disappeared.

The flame on the werewolf was still burning, but apart from being able to feel the astonishing temperature, it didn't ignite anything, not even a single wolf hair was burned.

It was clearly some kind of psychic attack.

But Clayton, who was out of control, didn't care much about it.

Since it is not a real flame, it will not cause muscle damage.

And as long as Spider-Woman is killed, maybe it can be stopped.

However, it is not easy to do this.

Clayton looked around, but couldn't find any trace.

Clara's spider leg stabs will only leave small marks on the ground, and it may also lie on the walls and ceilings, making it even less noticeable.

Although she was injured, her blood was originally transparent.

The dust in the old house also suppresses the werewolf's sense of smell.

Clayton has no idea of ​​slowly distinguishing,

He lifted up the carpet and lifted up the dust that had accumulated for four years at once, rolling up a cloud of haze in the corridor.

The viscous blood flowing down from Clara caught the dust, and soon revealed characteristics that were different from other places.

She was lying on the wall on the right side of the corridor, her head still being repaired was exposed, covered with a dusty outline.

"Clara has been found, and Clara wants to escape!"

The spider scrambled in a panic, rounded the corner and disappeared from Clayton's sight.

Clayton was on all fours, sprinting like a beast, flames flying like his mane.

He rushed to the corner in one breath, a piece of flesh on his right shoulder suddenly fell off, and blood spattered from his arm, staining the two invisible spider legs red.

Clayton realized this in the middle. He twisted his waist and shifted his body to the left, intentionally avoiding the vital position, but because of this, he lost his balance and slammed into the white wall in front, printing his own blood on it.

Clara grinned and lay on the wall behind the corner, retracting her attacking limbs.

Those two legs are clean, so the invisibility is perfect.

"Werewolves are strong, but Clara will not escape, Clara is the strongest!"

The successful blow after the ambush made her proud.

But she ignored the disadvantage of her own position and the fact that Clayton's injury was not that deep after intentionally avoiding it, at least not so deep that she couldn't move.

The corner corridor was so narrow that she hid here, and Clayton could reach her with a single step of his hand.

The werewolf's intact left hand punched the wall, and after paying the price of the fracture, the reaction force threw him back up, and then kicked his feet on the wall again. Under the second acceleration, his whole body hit the wall like a cannonball. Spider on the wall.

A mass of nearly four hundred pounds rushed towards Clara.

This angle of force caught her off guard, and the distance of less than one meter meant that it was too late to do anything.

She couldn't dodge like last time, all the spider legs used to support the torso opened up because they couldn't hold the pressure, like a pressed chrysanthemum specimen, and then shattered and broke with the remaining force of the impact.

The lone human head and broken limbs fell to the ground, and the flames on Creighton were also extinguished.

He recovered a little bit of sanity because of this head bump, fell to the ground and looked at Clara affectionately.

"Clara is not strong, mammals are strong!"

The werewolf opened its mouth full of sharp teeth in the terrified eyes of the human-headed spider, and threw itself fiercely at it.

In the last bit of clarity left, he seemed to hear applause.

When Clayton completely regained his sanity, Clara was still regenerating in his hands, but this regeneration process was slower than at the beginning.

It looks like a clump of aloe growing in a pot shaped like a human head.

The eyes on the girl's head were tightly closed, as if she had fallen into a coma.

The injuries on his werewolf body also healed a lot, his hands and feet regained mobility, but his throat was sore, and there was a bloody smell when he swallowed.

Creighton briefly thought about it, thinking that this might be caused by his out-of-control eating spider legs without peeling off their shells.

"It's a very good battle. You can kill the parasitic demon. Both mentally and physically, you have reached the level of a knight. This is not a level that ordinary newborns can have."

He heard an indistinguishable male and female voice, looked back, but only saw a person who couldn't see clearly in the corridor saying something he couldn't understand.

The appearance is vague, and the figure is also vague.

Clayton recalled the feeling of being followed today, as well as the applause he heard when he lost his mind, and finally confirmed that it was not his nervousness, but that someone was really following him.

For the time being, he didn't think that there was an option to get angry, but he breathed a sigh of relief.

While being discouraged, he blinked again because of the dust on his eyelashes, and a chill ran up his spine.

"Gallid?!"

Clayton asked in disbelief.

At the moment when he closed his eyes in the "blink", his impression of the other party completely disappeared, and he even had a question - why did he turn back?

When he opened his eyes, the impression of the other party was regained.

The nature of this ability is almost the same as Gelid, but stronger, and the smell of the other party also shows that this is not the same person.

"It's not Gelid, but I'm a ghost just like him." The visitor said lightly, "It's said to be a ghost, but it's actually just a cursed person, isn't it amazing?"

"Why are you here? This is a private mansion."

Clayton didn't answer, he stood up and looked at the man vigilantly, not daring to blink once.

Just killed an enemy, and now his state is not good, and he has no confidence to deal with an unknown existence.

Even if the other party knows Galid, it is not necessarily a companion. After all, he still doesn't know much about the dark group in Sasha City.

The word "private mansion" stunned the other party for a moment, but then he burst into laughter: "You are right, but there is no place that can limit the freedom of a ghost."

"And have you forgotten, today is the weekend, and Gayled has already handed in the form you filled out. I am the evaluator sent by the Presbyterian Church to review your membership qualifications."

Clayton calculated the date and found that the other party was indeed right.

But this is not enough to make him let down his vigilance: "You have been following me since noon, if you are a member of the Presbyterian Church, why didn't you help me just now?"

"Because I'm a ghost," said the evaluator, as a matter of course.

Clayton thought the explanation was insincere: "What does that have to do with you being a ghost?"

"The less easily a ghost is detected, the weaker its interference with reality."

The evaluator walked towards him and even jumped vigorously in front of him. The air flow was even lighter than his breath, and no dust was splashed.

Even if the ghost was standing in front of him, Creighton could feel the breeze passing through and blowing on him without hindrance.

"As you can see, I can't even pick up my pen now, and my clothes fall off when I put them on, so the so-called review is just some inquiries."

"Okay, I believe you."

Clayton sat down again, he was sore now and preferred to sit.

"Need a little more rest?" the ghost asked understandingly.

"Need not."

"By the way, besides work-related matters, I can also provide special services here~"

When it comes to "special services", the ghost evaluator's ethereal voice is a little more seductive.

(End of this chapter)