The Laws of Werewolf Hunting

Chapter 402 The Lost Eye

Clayton Bello no longer cared what animal's meat he was eating. As long as the meat appeared in his mouth, he could swallow it without any psychological burden.

Now that the relationship has reached a point where Clayton needs to bite, he no longer needs to let his sense of morality constrain him.

He has killed many people, and many others have killed people. Humans even train people to kill, and they even regard killing as something to show off. When a person dies, the world belonging to the deceased is destroyed. Why should he be criticized for such an act that would never hurt others? Is biting a dead person more cruel than turning a living person into a dead person?

Clayton didn't think so. What he was worried about now was how to answer this question.

The truth might damage the friendship, but it would be inappropriate to use lies to deal with it. Norris has experienced a lot, and Clayton thinks it will not be easy to hide it from him.

Telling a lie and getting caught is much more serious than telling the truth.

This concern disappeared by the time of their second meeting.

After his "resurrection", Norris became much more talkative than before. Even though Clayton was not good at communicating with others about emotional issues, it could be seen at this moment that he was filled with extraordinary distress.

His old comrade Clayton Bello seemed to be the only person with whom he could communicate on an equal footing in this house. As for the others, they were just another kind of creatures with different thoughts. Even the valet who admired him was just a boring stranger. Their existence could not leave any trace in Norris' heart.

When Clayton talked with him again today, neither of them mentioned the last question from yesterday.

"You know what? I wanted to secretly find you to reminisce about the past. When I was looking for you, I found out that after my 'death', the army was split and reorganized again. A friend who loves money in the army helped me, but I only found those who died in the roster. All the living people were missing. I was wrong. It shouldn't be called missing. It's just that I can't find them anymore. They are unknown and disappeared in the vast sea of ​​people."

"You are the only one still serving in the army, but your position is too far away. When I set out to find you, you also ended your contract with the army and left Yaxin. You disappeared just like them."

Norris stood beside Clayton and took a puff of his pipe. The sad smoke covered his face. In the sunlight coming in from the French windows on one side of the corridor, this scene seemed to form a new oil painting - just like the one Clayton was looking at.

They were still in the same house, but the corridors were so long that they could be turned into a private gallery, which was indeed the case.

Norris sighed at the wall covered with paintings: "Most people become unknown after experiencing the hardships on the battlefield. What a pity!"

"At least we are alive, and even living well," said Clayton, standing with his hands behind his back. Norris's puff of smoke did not disturb his observation of the famous paintings depicting maidens and machines.

"How do you feel?" Norris asked.

Clayton shook his head: "They are all fakes."

Norris's mouth opened and he laughed happily, as if he had never been so happy. Even the pipe in his hand seemed to make a "gulp gulp" sound when it smoked.

Clayton didn't laugh, he turned his head and said, "Norris, I'm not a fool. I can see that there are some very depressing things in your heart. If you don't mind, I hope you don't bear it alone."

There seemed to be a fire burning in the eyes of Norris, who was fully awake. This was not the look that a calm person could have.

Norris's laughter died down, and he admitted Clayton's guess: "Well, you are right, there are indeed some things that make me uncomfortable, but I am a little embarrassed to say it out loud."

"Clayton, what do you think of this house?" he asked suddenly.

"It's very good, the style is similar to my house, and the location and materials are even better. However, I'm not in real estate, so I can't estimate its price," said Clayton.

"Houses like this are not cheap. Even if they are of the same style, most people can't afford them." Norris looked at him with relief. "It seems that you are doing well."

“Just a little business.”

"Isn't that different from your old life? I remember you managing farms and ranches."

When he said this, Clayton suddenly got angry.

"It's completely different. Believe me, farming and managing livestock are much more interesting than this. There are scientific ideas involved in arranging crop rotation and cultivating good seeds. I can say that I am better than anyone else in farming. I can even be called an agriculturist if I have made a breakthrough. But there is no question of whether doing business is good or not. I am always just doing one thing - moving things here and there. That's the best I can do - to be accurate based on the existing information."

Norris couldn't help laughing: "It's true, I often feel bored too."

“When you run a business, no matter how big it is, it is just about having money. But when the amount of money exceeds what people need, the amount of growth is completely meaningless. We don’t make money for ourselves, but for others. In the words of economists, maintaining this stage is our obligation to society.”

It is common sense in today's society that rich people will squander money when they earn more than they can spend.

They buy things they don't need, spend a lot of money on luxury goods, and do charity, so that the money in their hands can flow into the hands of the poor, who can then consume and buy the goods of the rich. In order to manufacture goods and make more money, the rich have to hire more workers. This forms a cycle, which is an ideal model for a functioning society.

Current economic theory holds that this is the healthiest approach.

"Sometimes I really want to throw everything away and start over somewhere else." Clayton sighed in front of a wall of fake oil paintings: "Maybe this is just a personal quirk. I miss those days of careful calculation every day, and even the feeling of the battlefield. At that time, I still had a goal."

"You don't have one now? Don't you want to be a sculptor?"

"Do you still remember this?" Clayton asked in surprise, but then he smiled and shook his head, turned and walked to the end of the corridor.

Just walk around the house - these are Norris's original words, because walking helps to soothe the mood and make people frank, and for some reason he doesn't want to go out with Clayton. In order to keep the content of the conversation confidential, the host has asked everyone to leave the house.

"Being a sculptor is indeed my wish, but this is because I could imagine many beautiful things in the past, and I hope to share these things. After the war, I closed my eyes, and my mind was full of dark thoughts and bloody scenes. I have lost the ability to create beauty." Norris raised his head behind him and followed him up the stairs: "But now you have the ability to create ugliness."

"Who needs ugliness?"

"Enjoy the good ones."

Clayton didn't believe him: "I always enjoy the good."

"Never say never."

Clayton still has no idea what Norris is doing after faking his death and escaping, but he is sure that this guy is secretly going to school. The original Norris would not be able to say such things.

“Maybe I’ll be different in the future, but I know who I am now,” he told Norris.

This was just a concluding remark to end the current topic, but Norris suddenly became interested and planned to delve into it in detail.

"Then tell me, what kind of person are you?"

Clayton stopped at the stairs, took a breath, turned around and looked at Norris on the stairs: "I have a small conscience, I don't feel ashamed easily, I am irritable, and I often hold hatred in my heart, but I am generous. It's easy for me not to offend. I respect whoever respects me. I think I am loyal to my duties. When a job falls on me, even if I don't like it, I will definitely complete it. And my hobbies are not unique, they are basically the same as those of ordinary people."

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"how?"

He finished.

Norris stood on the steps and applauded him, his face full of admiration: "Perfect! I have to say that you are a natural aristocrat. This country needs people like you!"

"I've figured it out, Norris. You must have made a fortune by satirizing others. No wonder you don't like to show up in public." Clayton shook his head, turned around and continued walking.

"Haha, that doesn't hurt me. I actually hope to be able to do this job."

Norris followed Clayton leisurely. Although he was in his own home, he looked around curiously as if he was here for the first time.

And when Clayton's gaze rests on something, he will also look over there.

Clayton soon found a place suitable for a short rest. He stopped in front of a window in the corridor on the second floor. Norris also stopped and looked out the window with him.

At this moment, the window frame becomes a picture frame, and the sky as the background is like the darkest pigment. The morning of this industrial city is solidified and condensed on this canvas.

From their perspective, the miniature industrial machinery in the distance and the rising black smoke seemed like a herd of steel beasts that only existed in myths and fantasies. They lived in groups and could exert unimaginable strength to change everything in the world just by swallowing charcoal and whale oil. Countless high-rise buildings were built because of them, and the people under their feet were as small as ants.

This scene suddenly made Weiodi, the sinful city, burst out with tremendous ambition and vitality.

Norris squinted his eyes, concentrating as if he was watching the sunrise for the first time in his life.

It could be a few seconds or minutes later, Clayton said, "Maybe now you are in the mood to talk about your difficulties."

Norris' eyes were still looking out the window greedily: "Before talking about this, I want to know what kind of person I was in your eyes before?"

"Are you waiting for me to praise you?" Clayton shook his head helplessly, but still told the truth: "A reliable person. Without you, we would have died at least twice more. And you have mastered many skills. When we chatted privately, we all felt that you would definitely seize the opportunity to succeed in the future. Now it seems that you have achieved this 'future'."

After getting the affirmation, Norris sighed deeply.

"That's the thing, the huge wealth I have now has nothing to do with me."

"I know that in the past when we talked, you concluded that I would be successful because of my skills, noble sentiments and rich resume, and I myself felt that this was a fact. But it is not."

He turned around and leaned against the window frame. The window was open and Clayton could fall through with just a hand.

"The difference between going from financially strapped to extremely wealthy was only due to a thought from my dead father. It has nothing to do with who I am. It would be the same for anyone else."

Norris raised his right hand, with his thumb and index finger almost pinched together.

Alexander Eleven stood across the street from the church.

He is a very devout believer, but he hasn't been to church for a long time.

He would come during worship times, but would not go in. He would just stand at the door and watch and listen to the sacred chants from ancient scriptures, as well as the clergy's admonitions and guidance to the believers, just like he does now.

He stood there until the event ended and the believers left the church with smiles on their faces.

A familiar priest saw him across the street and greeted him with a smile. He nodded but did not go over. This unusual behavior was noticed by another person.

"Hey, we had tea together last time - what do you think of this opening line?" Julius, who was fifty yards behind Alexander, with his green hair completely hidden in his tall hat, asked the potted plant in his hand.