The Laws of Werewolf Hunting

Chapter 30 Security Mission
Clayton didn't know what Grogne could do with him.

But he hoped it wasn't about Julius.

Philip the mustache took him back, went to a small room, knocked on the door to announce, and then left alone.

Clayton went straight in, and saw an old man with dark green hair sitting behind his desk, lighting his pipe.

He struck it a few times, failed to polish the match, and finally gave up on doing so.

He looked at Creighton and spoke directly with a pipe in his mouth:
"Mr. Bello, you are special."

Clayton was flattered and blunt about his suspicions: "Because I beat your son?"

Grogne waved his hand: "Don't let Julius affect our mood. He has 32 outstanding brothers and sisters, but he has learned nothing from them. His nephews are all more promising than him. I now I just hope it's not a dirty alley where he died, nothing else."

Human love has limits.

While raising his seventh child, he discovered that he had lost the emotion called "loving love".

Grogne faced the fact frankly.

Clayton couldn't see his mind, but he had no choice.

"Okay, then why did you come to me?"

"I heard that you were a soldier. Have you ever killed someone?"

It's no secret that Clayton hasn't hidden this,
He has also donated to the Veterans Club and the Soldiers Mothers Association before, but many people don't know where he served.

"After being a soldier for so many years, it's rare to have never killed a talent."

"This is very good. I can see it. You are very adaptable to the werewolf body and are far stronger than ordinary newborns. This shows that you were a powerful warrior before you broke the seal of your ancestors."

Grogne nodded with satisfaction: "I have a job for you. I need you to be a sheriff with a salary of 8 pounds a week. You will be responsible for teaching some people to use guns, leading a team to deal with or bring back other newborns."

But he ignored Clayton's opinion on this arrangement, and the werewolf was quite resistant to it: "I can't think of any good for me, and I am not short of money. Aren't there many people who decided to join the Presbyterian Church today? They must Someone would take such a high-paying job."

If there is a fighting link, he himself is at risk of being exposed, which is unnecessary.

He felt that only Gaylid, who was seen and forgotten by others, was suitable for the job.

"*** says you call yourself a pacifist."

Grogne reported a name that Clayton had forgotten. He had no memory of this name, but he had a vague impression of this "self-proclaimed". He had said such things to others recently.

He quickly realized that this was a magical ability of an existence.

"Yes, since he told you, I think you should understand that I shouldn't be allowed to do this job."

Grogne asked Clayton to sit down, pushed him a box of tobacco, but quickly took it away.

"Sorry, I forgot you were a werewolf, and tobacco interferes with your sense of smell."

"It's not that serious."

Clayton retorted, but did not actually accept the tobacco.

He had a very troublesome intuition. He believed that the other party had a way to convince him, but he couldn't figure out how to do it.

The old man leaned his back against the cushion on the back of the chair and breathed a sigh of relief.

"It is precisely because you like peace, you are not short of money, and you know how to fight, so you are more suitable for doing these things."

"I don't understand the logic of that."

Clayton stared into the elder's eyes, and he saw no jealousy or sarcasm in them.

But this doesn't mean anything, it can only show that the other party's thoughts at the moment are sincere.

Sincerity and kindness are two words that are not related.

"You know when to stop."

Grogne also looked at him, as if he had discovered some unknown treasure.

"Just because of this?"

Clayton almost laughed, he didn't think it was such a rare quality.

Grogne didn't smile. He seriously asked this young man who had just stepped into the new world: "How do you feel after becoming a dark descendant?"

"Nothing to be proud of."

"That's why," said Grogne.

"You, and those gentlemen, don't think it is something to be proud of. You have money and status. It is a defect for you to become what you are. Even if it is good, it is better than losing all wealth and wealth after being exposed. It’s not worth mentioning in terms of social status consequences. So who do you think would think that this change is all good?”

Clayton understood what he meant a little bit, his brows were slightly frowned, and he thought of Simon.

"It's those who have little wealth and low status."

"Yes—the poor." Grogne sighed and gave affirmation: "Their living habits are doomed that they are more willing to use power to change the current situation, and they are not worried about their identities being exposed. The possibility of being wanted is not worth it in their eyes As a matter of fact, they see only what is immediately within their reach, and live with envy and hatred of the gentlemen. It is unfortunate that in our Presbytery, such people make up the majority of the new entrants. .”

"As the dark moon gradually returns, there will be more and more such people, and their adventures will sooner or later fully expose our existence to the public."

The consequences of exposure can be imagined. Although most people regard the existence of dark descendants as a joke, once they find out that they really exist and dark descendants are committing crimes, they will definitely seek help from the church and the government.

And they are historically hostile relations. As long as there is a little misunderstanding, a war can easily break out.

"It's bound to happen," Creighton said, taking a pessimistic view.

"But we're trying to delay that from happening," Grogne told him. "It just takes a little time and help."

"Before this year, the number of Presbyterians had been hovering around the figure of 60. When the dark moon approached, [-] newborns appeared in just half a year. This is not counting those who escaped our sight. Gather and teach the newborns in time, and within a few years, Sasha City will be full of underground gangs and violent brotherhoods they formed spontaneously, and the peaceful life here will be broken."

Clayton pressed his temple. He didn't expect that the topic discussed by the other party would suddenly be so grand.

"What does that have to do with your asking me to be a sheriff?"

"Too many missing people will also cause concern. We really need to strengthen our manpower to maintain the competitiveness of associations with other cities. Therefore, we plan to accommodate these people as much as possible. At the same time, we urge the government to increase investment in workhouses and provide enough for the poor. They don’t want to commit crimes. It sounds stupid, but it’s possible. I’m sure you’ve seen that Sasha isn’t rich, but poor people are better off than other cities.”

Clayton really felt the changes in the past six months. There was still a small amount of minced meat in the diet of the Solot Parish Workhouse, and there was no one queuing at the door all night.

He never thought that this kind of peace was brought by the elders.

Grogne showed an inexplicable smile: "But most of my people have other jobs, and some people are already doing these things, but they are not doing well. Some people have no patience to control newborns, and some people are newborns. Not long after joining the club, I don’t want my position to be competed by newborns. In short, there are many reasons, but the result is that being a sheriff is like being an executioner. When dealing with those strange corpses, our informants also have to take risks.”

He did not forget to praise: "But if it were you, I believe you would not have so many reasons, and would definitely try to bring you back alive. The **** said you are a noble person."

"He really thinks highly of me." Clayton said coldly, he is not a person who will be easily moved.

Grogne was not angry because of his actions, but added conditions:
"If you agree, I will tell you the number and location of the special envoys of the Holy Grail Society."

The pupils of the werewolf's yellow-green eyes shrank immediately, and he was sure he hadn't told anyone about it, so the only existence that could have revealed it was obvious.

It was the Presbyterian evaluator he couldn't remember.

"He said it was a secret!"

"It's a secret now, but it's between you and me."

Grogne took out a black-and-white photo and put it on the desktop. It was the footprints left on the ground by Clayton jumping off the tall building after sniping the Harpy.

Footprints of that shape are rare except for werewolves.

"The Council of Elders is a latecomer to the Holy Grail Society and this city, so we don't know much about their grievances with the Mani family, and because of the original agreement, we can't intervene, but if a newcomer has enmity with them before joining the council, That's not part of what we can know and control." He was implying something.

Clayton picked up the photo and stuffed it into his pocket, without replying:
"and also."

"What else?" The old man showed a confused expression.

"Why do you want to kill people from the Holy Grail Society?"

Clayton used his eyes to spy on the old man. He didn't think this small job was enough to make the other party betray another special envoy of an organization of similar level.

Unless they want to do it themselves, but they can't do it because of the rules.

Seeing that he was so sure, Grogne's expression immediately changed.

"That's not what you need to know."

(End of this chapter)