The Laws of Werewolf Hunting

Chapter 378 Struggling Thoughts

On the other hand, Clayton did have some reservations about Conrionet after hearing the ballad.

As Julius said, werewolves can live for a long time, and if this hound knight who could kill and eat even his wife and children is still alive today, he believes that the result of the communication will not be good.

The moral standards of a civilized society will progress with the times, but creatures that live longer may not be able to keep up with this "evolution."

"I just asked those children, they actually saw Jin Jie and Edgar. Many people have seen them." Clayton said without showing any change in his expression, "They said that these two people followed the lord's steward into the castle and never came out again."

Julius raised his eyes and looked at the tall and thin war building. It had fallen into disrepair and looked like a scarred giant, but it also retained its final danger and cruelty.

"Then they should be dead."

Unconsciously, the original purpose of their trip had been achieved, and Julius was not surprised by this result.

It was a werewolf's lair after all.

The question now is what decision Clayton will make - rush into the castle to question the werewolves about the deaths of the missing people, or just leave?

However, on this issue where he thought he needed to hesitate, Clayton did not hesitate.

"Let's go back."

It was not a question of hesitation; Ginger and Edgar were dead, but Julius was alive.

Even if he was angry about the actions of the Conleone family, Clayton had other means to retaliate against them without having to rush into the castle and fight them in person.

Even if he really wanted to do it.

While Clayton and Julius were talking, a dark shadow flashed behind the fence of the house across the street. He saw it out of the corner of his eye. It was a black dog, or maybe a black wolf.

But whether it is a wolf or a dog, they are actually the same thing, and werewolves can use them as they please.

And in Berdalabik, these pets may also be spies of the Conleone family.

Thinking of this, Clayton turned and told Julius to continue to keep a distance from himself, but this time their order was swapped, with the green-haired man following him, and the distance between them was farther, which was different from his previous plan.

According to reason, he should not have communicated with Conleone, but Clayton was not a completely rational person.

Although he had decided to return directly to Sasha City, his heart had been attracted by the fellow tribesmen he had never met. This was the first werewolf clan he knew. Even though he knew there might be danger, he couldn't help but want to get in touch with them, not to join them, but to understand how these fellows survive in the current society.

So he made a contradictory move - on the one hand he was ready to take the risk of contact with them, and on the other hand he made plans to leave immediately.

Clayton knew that this time his rationality might be defeated by his emotions, so he walked in front this time. When he couldn't suppress his curiosity and wanted to contact them, all the consequences would be borne by him alone. Julius would return to Sasha City alone afterwards, so there was no need to worry about him.

But will Conrionay be his enemy?

Clayton didn't know.

In January, last year's snow had melted, and the damp and cold air made the werewolves very uncomfortable.

The water vapor blocked his pores, reducing his sensitivity to the wind. In the past, when he was still a human, he didn't care too much about this, but when his five senses became sensitive, this discomfort was magnified.

Just like observing the world through a thick cloth, Clayton was more cautious than usual.

Fortunately, he did not encounter any danger on the way. After passing through the unplanned winding roads, he successfully arrived at the boat rental market. The boat rental market in Bodalabik once occupied a considerable position in the town, but with the decrease in the flow of people and the increase in water pollution, some boat rental companies and fishing companies have closed down one after another. The abandoned storefronts they left behind were blocked by rusty iron sheets and barbed wire, and many roads were also blocked. The huge dock area presented an irregular style, like a maze.

However, the dock area in Sasha City also has a similar style, and Clayton is no stranger to it.

As he passed through the area, he saw through the gaps in the barbed wire. On the shore near the water, there were a few people standing or sitting on the wooden boardwalk extending out. They were all fishing, with their fishing lines hanging down into the dark water, and he could not see anything clearly.

The fishy smell of the water was so overwhelming here that even the perfume Clayton applied under his nose seemed to have no effect.

He covered his mouth and nose with one hand, and hurried forward with a suitcase in the other hand, his eyes scanning the closed shops, hoping to find a living person working there to show him the way, but most of the buildings here seemed to be "dead", with no sound at all and the windows covered with thick dust.

Several dark shadows were running silently in the shadow of the building. They might be wild cats or mice. Without any restrictions, no one knew how fat the mice could grow.

Clayton did not think about their identities anymore. He walked along the unblocked path until he reached the dock with rotten wooden planks. He saw what seemed to be the place where the boat rental company was located.

The first thing he saw was the boat.

There are several motor boats lined up on the edge of the dock. The paint on the hull has faded, and the boats rise and fall rhythmically with the waves.

Although they are not old guys, they are definitely not new guys as the bartender said. They are at least three years old. Just looking at the cleanliness of the cabin, their owner has taken good care of them.

Clayton stood at the edge of the boat and turned to look at the buildings on the side.

There were still three shops open on the street, and three young men were rolling whale oil cans toward him. They were startled when they saw Clayton and stopped what they were doing. "Who are you looking for?" one of them asked.

It is not easy to bypass those winding alleys, and they don't believe that the people in front of them are coming to the Black Water River to enjoy the scenery.

Clayton looked at the faded sign behind them and raised his chin calmly: "I'm here to rent a boat. Is old Lind here?"

Before the young men could answer, a man as tall as Clayton walked out from behind them.

"I'm here."

Clayton pulled down his sunglasses and looked over the black lenses at the person who was speaking. The person also had black hair, and his eyes were very similar to his. The green sclera expanded almost to cover all the whites of the eyes, and the pupils shrank to a point.

He thought of the seller.

Clayton's worst fears had come true.

But when the time came, Clayton found that he was no longer in the mood to escape.

The many doubts he had since becoming a werewolf forced him to completely turn to the direction of "taking risks and contacting his own kind."

The bartender in the tavern seemed to like exaggerating. The new ship here was not that new, and old Lind did not look that old either. He was probably about forty years old, and his build was about the same as Clayton's.

However, considering that werewolves have a long prime time and their appearance is somewhat different from that of humans, it is possible that old Linde is in his seventies or eighties at this moment.

Old Lind did not ask any questions, but stood not far from Clayton and stared at Clayton's eyes behind sunglasses. Seeing this situation, the young men seemed to know something. They left the whale oil tanks without saying a word, and kept backing away until they disappeared behind the building, leaving the street to the two werewolves.

It seems that in Berda Rubik, the existence of werewolves is no longer a secret.

Lind was staring at Clayton, so Clayton simply took off his sunglasses, turned up his lips to show his fangs, and revealed his true identity to the other party.

"I sense a similar aura in you."

"That's true."

Clayton observed Lind. This was not the first time he had seen another werewolf. He once rescued a newborn werewolf named Huntstone, but he did not sense any aura from the other person that was different from that of ordinary people. But Lind was different.

Perhaps it was his increased strength that allowed him to sense more things, or perhaps Lind himself was different from Clayton and Huntstone.

When he saw Lind, Clayton felt a sense of "order".

He knew what it was, but it was the first time he experienced it.

"Law" is the foundation for werewolves connected by blood to establish a clan. Lone werewolves naturally do not have such a thing.

This is the difference between a werewolf who is attached to a clan and a wanderer like him.

"Are you really here to rent a boat? A stranger of the same kind." Lind looked at Clayton with a strange look. He was carrying a suitcase, wearing a thick coat, standing steadily on the creaking rotten wooden boards, and there was a strong smell of perfume on his body, which was very unusual for a werewolf.

"My daughter Lydia said there's a sneaky guy looking for someone. Could it be you?"

Lind's words reminded Clayton of the shadow he had seen before.

Near Wei'aodi, sufficiently powerful shapeshifters can display their alien bodies during the day, and some werewolves are more adept at changing into wolf form.

He recalled the details of the outline and replied, "The search is over, so I should go back. Also, I haven't heard of the name Lydia, but the lady's grammar may not be very good. I don't do things in a secretive way, and this adjective should not be used on me."

"I agree with you. She is not very good at grammar." Werewolf Linde still stared at his face. "However, since you came to Berda Rubik, why don't you visit us first? Is the Black Claw clan's reputation so bad? Have they become degenerates who are not worthy of respect from their own people?"

Clayton shook his head. “I only know there is a Conlionai family here, but I have never heard of the Black Claw clan.”

"Are you a newborn?" Lind looked at Clayton strangely, at the sturdy body that could only be tempered by years of battle, and the remarks that lacked common sense. He didn't know what he was thinking of, and suddenly a smile appeared on his face.

"Kong Lione is Black Claw. The former is our secular surname."

"Why use two names?" There was no hypocrisy on Clayton's face. As for what he was thinking in his heart, only he knew.

"We can't just act openly as werewolves. Just like you, we all have secular identities and jobs, which can explain our source of income to outsiders, so as to prevent nosy reporters from tracking us down and asking questions."

"I don't understand you."

Lind smiled indifferently, "It doesn't matter if you don't understand now. You are a wild wolf, right? How did it feel like to lose control for the first time? Were you lucky enough to transform in the wild, or were you living alone in an apartment?"

"A solitary apartment," said Clayton.