The Laws of Werewolf Hunting

Chapter 26 Newborns
Monday night made Creighton anxious.

In the Pulitzer House tonight, there will be many existences beyond the imagination of ordinary people.

To use a tongue-twisting phrase, "a monster thinks a monster is a monster because it just became a monster."

Creighton had only become a werewolf for less than half a year, and few of the extraordinary beings he saw were normal, which made him feel that his future was bleak.And the cruel Holy Grail Society can live in peace with the Presbyterian Church, which made him lose the foundation of trust in the Presbyterian Council that would shelter the Darkborn.

But the law and order of the city is even managed by the other party.

So Clayton decided to bring a short weapon with him, even though Gaylid claimed it was just an ordinary orientation meeting.

Because the revolver was lent to Joe, he had no choice but to pick a cane sword with a black snakewood body from the merchandise, which can not only show his status as a gentleman, but also can be drawn out to deal with the enemy at any time.

By six o'clock in the afternoon, Clayton was out on time.

He changed into a black overcoat and trousers of the same color, put on a felt hat, took a sword and went out to rent a carriage.

There were not many people on the road. Although it was getting dark, the street lights along the way were still dark.

The Night Lighting Act stipulates that street lights are turned on at seven o'clock.

Most people don't leave work that early, so this is an acceptable time.

There will be more passers-by in relatively affluent areas.

This is also thanks to the silting of the river in Sasha City, where a large number of factory clusters cannot be formed, because the transportation capacity brought by the train has reached its limit, and the delivery of products is likely to be delayed due to schedule delays, and the delay will require compensation. It is an unprofitable place in the eyes of entrepreneurs.

The laying of the factory is already saturated.

In places where the traffic is not so developed, it is almost [-] hours a day, and everyone is more comfortable.

When Clayton was still a certain distance from the central city, he already felt the atmosphere different from the East XC area.

Here, there are tall buildings row upon row, and each floor is transparent.

The lights from the windows of the different buildings combined with each other to create a spectacle that could illuminate the roads almost without street lamps.

The number of people on the street began to increase, and those well-dressed and fashionable men and women walked confidently in the light of electric lights, as if they were walking in heaven.

It takes at least one to two gallons of refined whale oil to generate electricity for the lighting of a four-story building covering an area of ​​[-] square meters every night.

Even in the diocese of St. Morede where he lives, not many people dare to use electricity so extravagantly. They all use a mixture of oil lamps, candles and electric lights, and the nights are still dark and silent most of the time.

But downtown is the real buzz.

Universities, city government buildings, corporate offices. People's desire for electricity is far more here than elsewhere.

Whether it's cloudy or night outside, it's always sunny inside those majestic buildings.

It is precisely these needs that the Pulitzer family has made a living from.

Before learning about them from the Presbyterians, Clayton only knew that the Pulitzer family owned a marine business and a lighting company and were business magnates in Sasha City.

The man who owns the whaling ship and the oil refinery is somehow above the crowd without needing special strength.

They are already extraordinary.

So Clayton's impression of this family is the same as before.

He found the residence of the Pulitzer family. The tall building was located not far from the largest church of the Baijiao in Sasha City.

Muguang Cathedral.

It is a building that would not be inferior to Yaxin, the capital. The towering spiers and pure white exterior walls make it look extremely sacred.

Thanks to it and the University of Scion, Sasha is known as a city of arts and culture.

Clayton glanced at the eye-catching spire warily. Many people on the road were heading in that direction to attend evening prayer.

Being able to see the spire means that the city hall is not far away.

The position of the stronghold of the Presbyterian Church shows their extraordinary self-confidence and strength.

When approaching the Pulitzer mansion, the iron fence like the ancient spear forest and the strong security guard with a shotgun make it difficult to get close.

Clayton began to suspect that the Presbyterian Church had ulterior motives.

They are already so rich and powerful, what else are they going to do to recruit the Darkborn?

Are the basic membership benefits that Gaylid mentioned are given purely for charity?
But several of his regular clients have invited him to similar places, and Clayton is familiar with such occasions, and the formal clothes he wears before going out are suitable here.

Clayton stopped the carriage, intending to walk across the street by himself.At this time, he saw a gray-haired man in ragged clothes squatting a little farther away from the door—to be precise, it was from the bushes in the street next to the gate of the mansion, secretly staring at the security guards, and seemed to want to enter the Pulitzer mansion.

The gray suit that exposed his chest and belly made him look out of place on the street, which would explain why he cringed so much.

Clayton had an idea, he waited for the time when the carriage passed by, trotted across the street, and prepared to ask the man something.

Noticing a well-dressed man running towards him, the homeless man subconsciously turned and ran.

Clayton had already put his hands on his shoulders, and he deliberately lightened his strength, but as a result, he was pulled forward three or four steps by this guy.

This kind of power is not something ordinary homeless people who can't eat enough can have.

"Someone asked you to come here?"

Clayton pinned his shoulders and pushed back hard.

The homeless man's face was dirty and his age could not be seen.The expression of fear was unassailable in terms of his identity, he was almost two heads shorter than Clayton, and he had no thought of resisting.If it wasn't for the burst of strength just now, maybe Clayton would really treat him as an ordinary person.

"Yes, yes, I can say anything!" The homeless man stepped back step by step with his palms out.

"Who asked you to come?"

"A guy I don't know who said I could get a job by coming to the Pulitzers."

Clayton asked, "Then why don't you go in?"

The homeless man glanced at the armed security guard standing in front of the gate through the cracks in the iron railing, and swallowed: "I thought I was in the wrong place."

Clayton exhaled, he thought wrong - he thought this person was sent by someone who discovered the secret of the Presbyterian Church, but he didn't expect to be another recruited person.

It was beyond his imagination that the Presbyterian Church would absorb even homeless people.

"Then let's continue."

With the next sentence, he turned around and left, but this ragged man boldly followed up:

"Sir, so I'm in the right place, this is the Pulitzer house?"

"It's absolutely true," Clayton told him without looking back.

They walked through the gates of the Pulitzer mansion one after the other, and the armed security guards didn't even ask them any questions, as if they would be able to let people go if they dared to go in.

Clayton didn't know what they were guarding against, or whether letting these people stand at the door was just a way for the Pulitzer family to show their financial strength.

Entering the gate, walking through a road more than 100 meters long, bypassing the surging sculpture fountain, Clayton really stood at the gate of the mansion.

It's a bit grander than the General Police Department of St. Mellon Parish.

There are waiters at the door to open the door for them.

After entering the door, Clayton's eyes lit up instantly, and his body entered a warm space.

A maid in a black-and-white dress came up to ask them to sign the visitor book, then handed them a green silk handkerchief embroidered with a steamboat.

"Please accept this."

Clayton took the handkerchief, wiped his cane and stuffed it into his pocket, then took off his hat and scarf and handed it to the maid.

The tramp behind him also got the same handkerchief, wiped his hands preciously, and then wanted to imitate Clayton and take off something for the maid, but was embarrassed to find that he couldn't take off anything.

The maid left, and another took her place by the door.

Because everyone hadn't arrived yet, the waiter in a black vest led them to the waiting room to rest.

There are already some people here.

The stout workers with calluses and scratches on their hands sat on the sofa and smoked the cigarettes provided here one after another. After the smoke, their faces were full of sadness. There was nothing special about them except that the body under the overalls was too fat.

The pointed-eared woman who was suspected to be of Semitic descent, known as the elves in ancient times, wore an old blue dress that was somewhat whitish, but she still had the charm of a mature woman. The ring on her hand proved that she was married.Two expressions of pain and greed flashed from time to time in the brownish reddish eyes, and he kept biting his thumb to suck the blood from it.

There is also a young man holding a book, observing the other two excitedly, and then looking down at the book as if looking for some kind of comparison.He didn't take off his scarf and gloves in such a warm environment.

Clayton and the tramp were stared at as soon as they walked in.

Their focus on the Tramp quickly fades and then focuses on Creighton.

He is dressed very formally today, and he still has a majestic king's beard, and his every move is very suitable for this place.Looks like either a regular or a host.

Clayton didn't care about the gazes of these people, his attention was immediately attracted to the book held by the young man.

"Can you lend me this book?"

He walked over and pointed to this "Introduction to Mystery: Common Sense and Uncommon Sense" and asked.

This name made Clayton feel that if he finished reading this book, he would probably be able to understand the "Two Thousand Common Senses for Mystery Lovers" sent by Tritis.

(End of this chapter)