The Laws of Werewolf Hunting

Chapter 348 Big Purchase

"He's getting married?" Donna was stunned. She waved her hands in disbelief: "But how is this possible? He said he was going to propose."

Although she did not have Clara's help, she believed in her own judgment, and when Mr. Morris talked about Imera Belle, the look of longing for love on his face did not seem to be false.

Clayton raised his left hand and pointed to the position of his ring finger with his right hand: "Did you notice his left ring finger? Although he didn't wear a ring on it, the marks were very clear. Such marks would not be caused without years of wearing. Considering his current age, he may have a good family background, so his parents arranged a marriage for him a long time ago."

Clayton has seen examples like this many times.

Some wealthy people and nobles either indulge in pleasure or regard their careers as more important than their families. They are unwilling to accompany their children. Children are accompanied by their mothers and wet nurses before the age of five, by tutors from five to ten years old, and go to boarding schools after the age of ten. These people spend less than a hundred hours with their fathers until they become adults. Then, for the benefit of the family, the marriages of these children are ultimately decided by their fathers.

As for these people, they don't like their father, but they are also unwilling to give up their inheritance rights, so the greatest rebellion they can commit is to not love the wife designated by their father.

As for what this will become of them, just look at Mr. Morris.

"But... he said he was going to propose to me," Donna repeated. She still couldn't believe that Morris would do that.

He seems to be very personable and a man of spiritual quest.

He should be noble.

"If he's already married, he can't marry another woman. That's common sense. So he may have divorced his wife!"

She stood there, hoping her uncle could give a reasonable explanation.

Clayton said with pity in his eyes: "My dear silly girl, considering that the bride is usually younger than her husband, I think she should still be alive now. Even if she died in an accident, today should be the day of her death. Mr. Morris is a bit heartless to find another woman now."

"Besides, proposing and getting married are two different things. There is a thing called fake marriage in this world. As long as you are willing to spend some time to get a fake notary, a fake certificate, and a fake piece of jewelry, it doesn't cost much and the matter is basically done. Many women in love fall for this trick. When these scammers get tired of it, they will find an excuse to leave or suddenly disappear. The deceived women will never be able to find them, and maybe they will just think that they had an accident outside for the rest of their lives."

Donna was dumbfounded: "Aren't they afraid that the victims will find them through their names, then..."

She paused, suddenly remembering Clayton's previous action of giving a fake name.

Yes, if everything else is fake, then why should the name be an exception?

But
"How sad Miss Belle would be if she finally found out that he was a liar. He is a fanatic in the pursuit of beauty. How could he bear to make the beautiful Miss Belle sad?" Donna covered her forehead, subconsciously trying to defend the possibility she hoped to see.

Clayton's next sentence undermined the basis of this question.

"Child, do you think people like him would also pursue tragic beauty?"

Donna hesitated. She knew that Clayton's conclusions other than that Morris was married were all speculation, but now she had to join him in doubting Morris.

Morris just cited many examples of tragic beauty.

"We have to verify it."

She lifted her skirt slightly and took a big step towards the backstage, with Clayton following slowly behind her.

In the corridor outside the ladies' dressing room, Imera Belle, who had already removed her makeup, was holding flowers and listening to the confession of the handsome gentleman named Morris.

Frankly speaking, she couldn't help but be happy about being welcomed.

When the waitress came to the dressing room, she said there was a strange admirer outside, seeking the love of a lady, and he said this - he wanted to see a lovely lady named Carlotta, who called herself Boudica when she was ruthless, sometimes called her Graceful Ruth, sometimes called her Kind Leslie, and when she was an astrologer, she was called Abigail.

As soon as Imera Belle heard this, she understood everything. These were the names of the roles she had played. If this gentleman didn't like her very much, he would never have remembered so many roles she had played.

So as soon as she had taken off her make-up she was eager to meet this interesting admirer.

She was very surprised by the meeting. Mr. Morris looked very handsome and had elegant conversation, not to mention his outstanding understanding of drama.

He praised her beauty and acting skills, noticed her personal improvements to the details of the performance, praised this behavior for turning an old script into something magical, and even pointed out the extraordinary dramatic talent that she herself was not aware of.

He was her soulmate.

So when this strange gentleman whom she met for the first time off the stage half-knelt down and proposed to Imera Belle, she began to think about it sincerely.

But at this wonderful moment, someone interrupted them.

A beautiful black-haired girl in a red cloak came trotting over with her skirt lifted up, followed by a very tall gentleman. Their eyebrows and noses were very similar, and they seemed to be relatives. As soon as they came over, the girl hurriedly shouted at Mr. Morris.

"Mr. Morris, a servant was shouting all over the stands just now, so we couldn't even rest."

"We called him in for questioning, and he said that his mistress was in a hurry to find her husband, and it was related to the theft of an important safe. We didn't recognize the name he gave, so we sent him away. But we thought about it later, and the image of the man he described seemed very similar to you, so we decided to come anyway."

Before she finished her words, the elegant gentleman Mr. Morris, who was half-kneeling on the ground, suddenly jumped up and rushed towards the entrance of the stage.

It is no exaggeration to say that he runs faster than a rabbit.

Imera Belle hadn't reacted to what was happening yet. She stared blankly at the back of her true love as he suddenly walked away and disappeared behind the door.

A few seconds later, the uncle and nephew of the Bello family laughed out loud in unison. They laughed so hard that they fell forward and backward in the corridor, oblivious to the people around them.

“He runs so fast!”

Donna Bello tried to wipe away the tears from her eyes, but she couldn't. She laughed so hard that her stomach hurt.

Clayton stood by and applauded her. He didn't give Donna any instructions this time, she just thought of the words on her own.

"So what's going on?"

Poor Miss Imera Belle still didn't know what had happened until they told her the truth. Then she realized that she was almost deceived by a playboy who was looking for beauty. She immediately threw away the flowers in her hand and thanked them very much.

After walking out of the theater, Donna felt so happy.

She had a beautiful silk ribbon around her neck, a gift from Miss Imera Belle.

After justice was served, she found everything pleasing to her and no longer mentioned the difference in ideas with Clayton. She taught the playboy who called himself Morris a lesson, but he also taught her a lesson, letting her know that those who are good at speaking can always hide the evil in their hearts.

His theory can defeat Clayton, but it doesn't stop him from being a bad person.

Morris couldn't deceive Miss Imera this time, but.
Donna paused. She stopped at the side of the street, her expression suddenly becoming serious. She looked at Clayton and asked for his advice: "Should we get rid of Morris once and for all? I think he might become a leatherworker in the future."

The leatherworkers she was talking about were of course a kind of evil creature, born only to pursue beauty, and Morris seemed qualified to be their reserve.

"No need." Clayton shook his head. "I've seen many people like this. They all lose their passion and become mediocre people. Their evil is just mediocre evil. They are not qualified to become evil creatures."

"Now there is no sheriff anymore. Who else can punish them except people like us?" Donna said worriedly.

"We can look forward to the Royal Police."

Clayton didn't take this seriously. To be honest, he didn't believe in this kind of professional law enforcer. He had seen many royal police officers in black in Asia. They patrolled the capital day and night. Bribery was commonplace, and their attitude towards the poor was cold and ruthless.

And the presence of the Royal Police also means another thing - higher taxes.

Each police officer must be equipped with uniforms and weapons, including but not limited to batons and pistols, and there must also be an independent clerical department. Such a large armed organization cannot be established solely by public donations. He doesn't know how much money he will have to pay by then.

However, there are some advantages to opening this agency. At least it provides many positions. Many veterans that Clayton knows can apply for the positions. They have experience in maintaining public order and they are not bad people. They may be able to guide the moral atmosphere in the Royal Police Agency.

If Bruno were still alive.
Thinking of this old friend, Clayton sighed regretfully.

Donna didn't know what he was thinking, she just felt that there was hope for the future and she was happy again.

"It's still early, let's go somewhere else."

Clayton looked at the sky and found that it was still early.

"Let's go to the market and pick out a horse for you so you can take riding lessons," he said.

Donna was now convinced that she was the happiest girl in the world, but after thinking about it, she decided to ask Clayton to take back the idea.

"If you want to take riding lessons, the horse at home is enough. There's no need to spend more money, right?"

Clayton refused: "Those are horses that we rent from the coach company for a long time, not our horses. And they are draft horses, not suitable for riding."

Speaking of horses, Clayton looked different from before. A sharp light appeared in his eyes. "If you want to buy a horse, it's not cost-effective to go to a horse dealership. You should go to those chaotic and noisy markets to see the horses raised privately by farmers and herdsmen. It's winter now, when livestock are losing weight. Even an expert can tell whether a horse is good or not by looking at the fat retained on its body. Horse owners will favor good horses."

"But will anyone really sell a horse at this time?" Donna was a little worried.

As Clayton said, it is winter now and the livestock are losing weight. Herders don't often sell large livestock in the winter because they become thinner, and such transactions often use the weight of the meat as a weight in the transaction.

"Then let's go to another market." Clayton said, looking at his niece seriously. "You have to watch me carefully when I pick the horses. The Bello family has been raising horses for generations. Don't lose this skill."

When they arrived at the nearest market by horse-drawn carriage, the dirt, rocks and animal dung all over the ground made them feel as if they were back in Nanbuliga.

The messy stalls are not arranged in order, and a blanket on the ground can be used as a store, so the roads have become very crowded.

The vendors were all wearing winter clothes, standing or sitting, and apart from the messy goods piled on the ground, they were all privately made handicrafts or soaps, skin care oils, nuts, pickled goods, animal skins, second-hand clothes, and even self-prepared medicines of unknown efficacy. People who might be customers were loudly asking prices or whispering beside the stalls. The larger vendors had carts piled with goods next to them, and their faces were more arrogant and their bargaining voices were louder.

A few children were running around in the gaps between the crowd, picking up coins on the ground that had not been discovered by adults.

In the center of the crowd, they even saw a few old wizards with beards hanging down to their chests, reading people's palms and selling amulets, but they didn't know whether they were real.

All the idle people were smoking unscrupulously and heavily, so that the smell of smoke could cover the smell of feces, which might be their purpose.

There is also such a dirty and messy place in the east of the city. Its appearance is not good compared to the row upon row of buildings, but it retains a unique vitality.

However, Clayton and Donna were not going to the center. They were going to the edge of the market. Herders from the outskirts of the city were staying there with their livestock. Most of them had sad faces. The cows, sheep, donkeys and horses behind them seemed to be in the same mood as their owners, only occasionally neighing once or twice to remind passers-by that they could come and buy them.

If money is not urgently needed, no one would come to sell livestock at this time, which would result in a lot of loss of profit.

Clayton didn't care how miserable the backgrounds of these herdsmen were, as long as he paid them normally, he would feel at peace with his conscience.

There are two horse dealers here, and their horses total fourteen, all tied in a nearby position.

Clayton took Donna to the horses and observed their torsos and postures. Those that were too thin or sick would not be accepted. At the same time, he would not buy an old horse or an ordinary draft horse.

He looked around and found only five horses whose physiques met his requirements.

Further screening is required.