The Laws of Werewolf Hunting

Chapter 372: Single Men Please Note

"This place is fucking scary."

After leaving Albert, Julius made his assessment of the city.

Compared to Sasha City, Wei Aodi is like hell.

Visible harmful gases are hovering in the sky, workers are fighting each other for a little money, the police are selling stolen goods to raise funds for themselves, people disappear inexplicably every month, nobles who should have stepped down and made way for bureaucrats are still running the affairs themselves, and there are mentally retarded monks in the city who are torturing themselves while begging for food.

"Don't be too nervous." Clayton said, "I don't think the situation is that bad. There are millions of people living normal lives here. Not many people would consider disappearances. It's just that this is the first time Sheriff Albert has taken on this kind of job, so he keeps saying bad things about this city."

In other words, it's not that everything in this city is bad, but that only bad things happen and the police are notified, just like only things that don't happen often are reported in the newspapers.

If they have no previous experience, the maintainers of order will easily regard bad things as the norm in this urban society and become discouraged.

But even with Clayton's explanation, Julius still couldn't like this place.

There is too much iron in this city.

Iron is everywhere: houses, walls, fences, tables and chairs. Even the swings in the park.

He has not yet been able to overcome the power of iron. Wizards at the Iron Fingers level will still be disturbed when casting spells next to this base metal. If he can be promoted to the Copper Ring, he will immediately fall in love with this city.

As if misunderstanding his expression, Clayton spoke to him again: "If you still feel dangerous, then leave immediately. Don't feel ashamed. The money I pay you is indeed not enough to buy your life."

This indulgent attitude is like treating a child. Julius denied it flatly: "We are just here to look for two missing workers. How could we provoke any enemies?"

He absentmindedly suggested that Clayton continue his visits.

Next, they went to the car rental company and the bar, but still found no trace of Edgar and Ginger. However, someone in the bar told them that there were indeed many disappearances in the local area. It was said that those missing people disappeared when they were alone, which coincided with Albert's last reminder to them.

Moreover, the drinkers here put forward a conspiracy theory that the missing people were all related to the workers' movement.

Strangely enough, there are countless labor movements in Weiodi. There are large-scale demonstrations every quarter and news of workers' strikes every week, but the strange thing is that the frequent victories of the trade unions are of no avail. Nothing here has changed because of this. The ant-nest-like factories are still densely packed to form the base framework of this city. The workers' work still occupies nine-tenths of their waking hours, and their wages are still barely enough to make a living.

The contract, a contract with obscure wording, a contract that is incomprehensible. It is like a web of layers upon layers, with one layer after another.

It is said that entrepreneurs rely on strict wording and legal traps to keep the birds trapped in the cage.

It is said that the factory owners have their own spies in the trade unions. They will tamper with the prepared negotiation documents on the eve of the negotiations, and then get a large sum of money from the factory owners and run away. This is the truth behind so many missing people in Weiodi.

However, some people refute this view, because the missing people are not only grassroots workers, but also upper-class people such as lawyers and doctors, who have nothing to do with the workers' movement.

It is said that there are three giant families that dominate the political arena of this city, they are the Hutton family, the Oranster family, and the Basby family. They are not nobles, but they are powerful and wealthy, and only their people can hold important positions.

Furthermore, it is still said that under the private government established by the three major families, there is a shadow government that actually controls everything. The three major families make decisions during the day, and the shadow government makes decisions at night. It does not hesitate to use bloody means to achieve its goals. If outsiders do not obey, they will be expelled or destroyed.

A drunk with some education swore that he had come home late at night a few days ago and saw with his own eyes a tall man in black speaking to a couple holding babies in a gloomy alley: "If there are more than three, one of them must be killed. If you don't obey, your family will be destroyed." So the couple cried and handed one of the two babies to the other. He was drunk and vomited for a while by the side, but when he wanted to look again, they were gone.

With these new gains, Clayton and Julius returned to the hotel they had booked at noon.

Of course, it was night time now.

After dinner, Julius walked around in his room, thinking about those strange rumors, trying to build a model of the city of Viodi through these clues, and sort out a clear thread to connect everything.

He knew very little about this place, and only had the words of criminals and drunkards to rely on.

Des Jourrader, who lived here for a while, described it as "a pile of mud with names and surnames."

Chaos is the keynote of Wei Aodi.

Julius was sure that because of the prevalence of trade unions, the gang warfare here was even more intense than in Sasha City.

The trade unions themselves are gangs. Without violence, it would be impossible for workers to organize strikes, block production machines, drive out those who are still willing to work, or confront the armed personnel sent by factory owners to suppress them.

These unions are hostile to each other because of the different backgrounds of their leadership, their regional and racial divisions.

For example, the trade unions established by Northerners only fight for the interests of Northerners, and the same is true for Southerners.

The effect of this distinction between the Morels, the Plainsmen, and the foreigners is the same, and each type of people can be subdivided according to region.

When there are too many members of a single union among the workers in a factory, they will consider driving away those individual traders and leaving the jobs for other members of the union. However, those individual traders may not be real individual traders. They may also belong to other unions, or even be members of semi-black gangs, thus continuing to cause new conflicts.

The reason why the local workers' movements won so many victories but did not change the situation is that their victories were not victories over factory owners, but victories over other trade unions.

Julius was almost certain that this was the case, and he did not believe that any contract could provide perfect control over another person.

This group of people only have themselves to blame for everything.

What a short-sighted bunch, he thought.

They are the kind of people who have never even looked in the mirror carefully and have no idea why someone is missing.

As for the drunkard's motto "If there are more than three, one must be killed", it was indeed a bit strange. He couldn't figure out the reason for a while, but he could feel the danger. Someone had said something similar in the past. When the Gufu people were about to exterminate the Persian people, the Persian people had no choice but to beg their brother people, the Gans people, who had different beliefs, to take them in. The Gans people agreed, but put forward the requirement that "when they come, if there are more than three people in a family, one must be killed." That is, they had to abandon the elderly, and the couple could only have one child, so as to prevent these pagan Persian people from growing rapidly in the future and backfire on themselves.

Although the Ganse people fulfilled their promise of shelter, the Bosmo people eventually lost their unique culture and merged into the Ganse people.

If what the drunk saw was true, it might be a restriction imposed by local secret societies on foreigners.

Although racial discrimination still exists, Dorne is no longer a mono-ethnic country. It is rare to emphasize the identity of a foreign race in this era, unless the party receiving asylum is not human.

Someone is taking in the Darkin.

Could it be the Conriona family?
If the Konglione family is the Black Claw family, would their hostility towards the Council of Elders make this trip dangerous?

Those who disappeared were attacked when they were alone, but could the murderer have been monitoring them? Otherwise, how would he know exactly when they would act alone?

Peng!
There was a sudden loud knock on the door of the room. Julius, who was thinking, jumped up immediately, rolled over and squatted behind the bed, holding his new wand and carefully pointing it at the door, while turning on his spiritual awareness.

However, no one broke in, and the footsteps left the door.

He waited for a while before slowly getting up and walking to the door.

There was a piece of paper on the ground, with some reflections of water stains on it.

Julius bent down and slowly rubbed the tip of his wand across the paper, several times, to remove any curse that might have been on it. Only after he had done this did he dare pick it up.

"Lonely man, come find me here"

There was an address written in small characters below the enchanting lace font. Seeing this, he couldn't help but shook his head and laughed at his panic just now.

"I'm really scared by a prostitute."

As he was thinking about this, Julius suddenly came up with an idea. He went out with the piece of paper in his hand and walked to the door of Clayton's room, determined to do the same thing to scare Clayton as well, thus adding some fun to this long and boring journey.

He was about to bend down to stuff the paper into the crack of the door when Clayton's door suddenly opened and Clayton looked at him in surprise.

"what are you doing?"

Julius stood up and said calmly, "It's nothing, just a little dust on my boots."

Clayton still looked at him suspiciously. The laughter from the next room just now could not be hidden from the werewolf.

Seeing that he didn't believe his words, Julius had to surrender, but in the blink of an eye he made up an excuse: "Well, I got a prostitute card and thought you might need it."

He handed the piece of paper to Clayton and described what had happened to him, omitting his own reaction.

"I no longer hire prostitutes. Prostitution is an immoral profession." Clayton said, frowning and turning the paper over and over.

He seemed to have discovered something, turned back to the room, and examined the paper in the candlelight.

Julius followed behind him and exclaimed at the right time, with an admiring look that would never be noticed: "I didn't expect you to be a moralist. A single man in his thirties can give up the habit of hiring prostitutes and defend his chastity like he would defend a queen. You must have a touching story of a prodigal son returning home."

"Don't mock me, Julius. I don't hire prostitutes, but I do take lovers," said Clayton, rubbing his black fingernails over the cursive writing on the paper, and the black soon spread around it.

"It's fresh from the business card press, the ink's still wet, so it can't be more than an hour old," he told Julius.

Then the werewolf put the paper under his nose and sniffed it, then dipped his fingers into the liquid on the paper and rubbed it.

This solemn attitude calmed Julius down. He came over and looked at the piece of paper again, but still found nothing unusual.

"What did you find?" he asked Clayton.

"The water droplets on it appear to be saliva."

Julius shook his head. He didn't think it was strange. "The person delivering the card wouldn't bring only one card. If he was lying on the ground to stuff the card into the gap under the door, it would be inconvenient to free up one hand to take the rest of the cards. It makes sense for him to hold a stack of cards in his mouth before lying down."

"That's the thing," Clayton said. "If he had all those cards, why didn't he send me one?"

Julius was stunned for a moment, and suddenly his scalp went numb.

They knocked on the door of the next room, but no one else received the prostitute's advertising card.

They rushed to the hotel's front desk, which was in the middle of the room, where the innkeeper sat. There was only one route from the building's entrance to their room, and if someone passed by, the innkeeper could not have missed it.

However, the innkeeper's answer remained the same - he saw nothing.

A cold draft suddenly blew past them, and Julius turned around suddenly. At the end of the corridor on the left, the small upper and lower window as narrow as a carriage window was open.

The light from the street lamps outside shone in through the window, like a painting of the starry sky.

(End of this chapter)