Werewolf hunting rules

In a rare display of professionalism, Julius stood up and pressed his hands on the table, leaning his upper body forward and speaking hard so that Clayton could hear his words clearly.

"Listen, I don't know who gave you this necklace, but I'm sure he's not going to die soon. If you don't want to be like him, don't even think about giving this necklace away. Bad luck won't leave you so soon. And go."

“What if I go to church?”

"How could you have such an idea?" Julius was moved by this shocking idea. He didn't know that Clayton had left his name in the local church's "Book of the Righteous", but this did not affect his conclusion. :

"Even if they are willing to help you, their methods will not apply to you. The priests will only guide the holy power of the sun to fill your life palace and temporarily cover the trajectory of your destiny, but this costs a lot and the effect is only temporary. , the bad luck has not dissipated, you have to go to the church every once in a while to receive the infusion of holy power. This is completely suicide for the dark descendants! If you think this can be considered as escaping the bad luck, I am free to you."

Clayton pushed his hair back again, realizing the seriousness of the situation.

"So what can I do to get over it once and for all?"

"Who sent this necklace? Does he know the legend of the bad luck jewelry?" Julius pointed to the necklace and showed him.

"A tomb robber shouldn't care about this. For two or three shillings, they are even willing to open up their father's coffin, and he picked up this necklace from the water." Clayton paused: "But if you want to see him, I have a way."

The grave robber claimed to have worked for Mr. Stepan, his unlucky colleague who was killed in the mine massacre.

When his family disappeared for almost a month, Mr. Stepan's family was probably clearing out various bills and letters and preparing to sell off their property. He could go there to find out the identity of the tomb robbers and acquire some low-priced assets to enrich the store.

Julius took a deep breath. He actually didn't have much experience in dealing with the fog of doom.

"Wait a minute, now I need you to examine this necklace. Can you tell when it was made?"

This is Clayton's expertise, and he has studied the workmanship of necklaces before, so he can answer it without much thinking at this moment.

"The ivory material is still clean white, indicating that it was not carved for a long time. There are some traces of water erosion on the back. The soaking process may interfere with my judgment, but even so, I can be sure that it will not be worn for more than Half a year."

Julius nodded: "Then the owner who caused it to be entangled in the mist of misfortune may have passed away this year. I have to find him or her first so that I can know how to resolve this misfortune."

"I will, but I want to know first when will the bad luck it carries grow to the point where it can harm my family?" Clayton asked in a deep voice.

The mage shrugged: "You can rest assured that unless your family lives in the same city as you, its bad luck will not be contagious."

Clayton stared at him with dilated pupils and spoke harder.

"Donna lives in the room next to me."

Julius blinked and realized that their "common sense" was not consistent.

"Sorry, I used the wrong word. In the eyes of spellcasters, 'family' is not a warm word. Its judgment may be different from what you think. It is more appropriate to describe it as a slave. Parents give birth to children, so Having the right to control children; or a wife changing her surname and becoming an accessory to her husband in a mystical sense, these two categories belong to the 'family', not nieces. So you can rest assured. Be careful not to let her touch this thing. You will be the only one who dies."

Clayton finally breathed a sigh of relief: "Then I'll be relieved."

He put on his coat again, took his bowler hat and prepared to go out.

"I will ask the tomb robber where he picked it up by the river. As for you, find a way to stay in the store and repair the relationship with Miss Charlotte. You can't stay angry with your colleagues. Then It will affect work efficiency.”

Julius, not expecting him to let her stay in the store, took a step forward in surprise.

"Seriously, don't you have any sense of crisis? In such a bad situation, you actually let me, an expert, stay in the store instead of letting me go with you?"

Clayton stood at the door, putting on his gloves and pressing his right hand on the doorknob.

"It's just a small thing today, I can handle it." After saying that, he closed the door heavily.

"That's not what you think when it comes to your niece—"

Julius's last words were lost in the sound of the door closing, and Creighton didn't hear them at all.

As soon as he left the shop he took a carriage and went to Mr. Stepan's house.

This poor old guy died before he could leave a will. When Clayton came to his house, his sons were quarreling over his disappearance, but they had no objection to the personal information of selling antiques. .

Obviously, they did not intend to continue the legacy of their fathers, so Clayton easily got the information he wanted.

The tomb robber who gave him the necklace had also come here to ask for an account before, and it was because of his visit that the sons of the Stepan family realized that their father was really missing and was not taking care of things elsewhere. Business.

The fat old man’s tomb robber was called Big Paul. As Clayton expected, he belonged to a professional organization of tomb robbers.

"Easter Island"

This group of tomb robbers is as notorious as Mr. Stepan in the collection industry. Not only do they provide antique dealers and collectors with illegally obtained and rare antiquities of unknown origin, they have also been providing fresh corpses to major medical schools—— Of course, the origin of these corpses is also unknown.

One of the Sheriff's duties is to guard the cemetery.

But Clayton had heard that some grave robbers would turn their attention to living people after finding that they were unable to invade guarded cemeteries, transform themselves into robbers, and directly kill people to get goods. Naturally, the corpses would be particularly fresh, and the medical school would not Pay attention to the cause of death of the body.

When dealing with tomb robbers, you need to be careful.

Even though he is already a werewolf, he may still be shot dead in human form, and if his identity as a sheriff is recognized, it will easily arouse the other party's suspicion and make the malicious intentions appear in advance. So he used one of Mr. Tostepan's sons as an introducer, and spent some time inviting Paul over.

It was already the next day when they met again.

The fat old man had already recognized Clayton when he walked into the door of the cafe. He rubbed his plump hands with a red face, quickly crossed the threshold and sat in front of the lieutenant. The door closed automatically due to the tilt, but the door closed automatically. The bell on his head seemed to jangle a little longer because of his size.

"Another plate of sammy sausage," Clayton called to the waiter.

The old man nodded happily, already picking up the knife and fork, and tried to add in a flattering tone:

"And a cup of coffee?"

Clayton gave him a cold look and did not continue to give instructions to the waiter. Instead, he took out the necklace that formed their intersection from his breast pocket and asked, "Where did you pick up this necklace?"

Big Paul didn't expect him to ask this question, he pointed the knife and fork at himself and said in surprise.

"Aren't you going to hire me?"

It's hiring again - Clayton is already very sensitive to this word. During this time, many people plan to come to him to make money, but he doesn't have that many needs for assistants.

"Forget it, I don't even have enough food for myself." He said perfunctorily.

Big Paul wrinkled his face in disappointment, but the next moment, the waiter brought the sausages to the table, and he started eating and drinking happily again.

"nadarri."

He had some integrity and gave the answer while chewing, but it was a little unclear.

Clayton didn't hear it at all.

"What?"

Big Paul swallowed all the food quickly, and then repeated it with a blushing face.

"The Nidalee River."

"The Nidalee River is growing."

The fat old man opened his mouth, his expression stiff, and his tongue solidified into a stone.

He wanted to say something, but his literary accomplishments were not enough for him to express what he wanted to say, so he had to stretch out his hand and stab the east a few times like a spear.

"It's right there. It takes less than two days to ride there."

"Next to it is Gevo, that town to the east of the city?" Clayton asked doubtfully.

He remembered the town, and even though it was right around the city, it wasn't easy for the average person to find. Detective Hook had marked this area in his original draft of the land transaction document. There were highlands and water sources nearby. The forest was not far away, making it easy to make fires and get water.

The fat old man nodded, his expression finally coming to life.

"Yes, it's the town of Jevo. Damn it, I can't remember this name!" He wiped his mouth and prayed a few words in a low voice, asking Heavenly Father to bless his eloquence.

What the tomb robbers did was not pious at all, it was simply blasphemy.

Clayton couldn't stand this old man anymore. Now that he had the answer, he had no need to contact him anymore.

"Very good, farewell." He quickly moved his long legs towards the sliding door.

"Are you really not going to hire us?" Big Paul made another attempt to persuade Clayton. After he turned around, he cast hopeful eyes on him, stretched out his hand and pointed upward, using the tone commonly used by drunkards and gamblers. Quietly: "Let me tell you something secretly. We have people in contact up there. We have whatever goods you want."

"Who is covering you?" Clayton returned, he was very interested in the answer to this question.

A knowing smile appeared on the fat old man's face, and his eyes narrowed into two slits. He knew that the other party would come back.

So he uttered the name that in his eyes was infinitely powerful.

"It's Presbyterian, that one."

This time Clayton walked away without mercy.