The Code of Werewolf Hunt

Rusted silver coins

The copper-plated signs dangled from irons outside the store, and their creaking sounds were striking in the evening breeze.

But even so, few people are willing to stop by the store at the end of the day.

This is a daily routine at the antique shop run by Clayton Bello.

Located at 47 Lemon Street in Sascha, the location is neither good nor bad, as is the business.

Antique shops are not ordinary shops, and regular customers are Clayton's main source of income.

The Bello family used to live in cities further south in Dorne, but after the death of his parents, who valued family reunion, he was left alone to decide where to settle.

Four years after he left the army, he took over the shop with a £600 retirement allowance and a portion of his father's inheritance. The antiquities trade was a fairly high society field, and he had some talent, so he was more impressive than his peers in the black street stall.

Clayton Bello was in his workshop on the second floor of the store, wearing a mask and an apron, bending over and using long tongs to scoop up five slightly discolored MEDALS from a bucket of murky liquid.

The Rohlen War Medal of Honor, awarded by the House of Dorne only to soldiers who fought in five or more battles in the Rohlen War, was issued a total of more than 600 MEDALS, which is of great commemorative value.

Clayton had handled 24 of them - 23 of them fake, the only real one belonging to him.

In the case of not receiving antiques, antique dealers must learn to make "antiques".

"Monsieur Bello, your guest is here."

There was a knock on the door and an announcement from the female assistant.

"I see, Miss Charlotte, and you may leave work too."

With a yes through the door, Clayton carefully sponged up the corroding liquid from the fake MEDALS, then wrapped them in silk and listed them on the work table. Then he took off his apron, put on a black jacket and went downstairs to meet the guest.

On the first floor, in display cases, enamel and crystal pieces are illuminated by electric lamps.

On the walls hung precious looking swords, unsheathed, as if they could be thrown back into battle the next moment.

The brown-haired young man waiting on the first floor showed no interest in them, glancing behind his back at the rusty exhibits in the display cases until Clayton stood behind him.

"Long time no see, Lieutenant."

Seeing the brown-haired young man in a white suit, Clayton hugged him and said, "Joe, I didn't expect you to come back. The last time I saw you, it was just like yesterday."

Lieutenant was his rank in the army, and only the old boys would call him that after he retired.

They fought together in the Rollen War of 163, as comrades in one company.

Joe Marney inherited the Rusted Silver Antique shop from his parents after his retirement, but because he was unwilling to run such a permanent business with the ideal of traveling the world, he sold the shop to Clayton.

As they stood together, the difference was immediately apparent. Clayton's hair and beard were the same thirty-seven points as ever, and the thick beard of a king. His features were stronger, and he looked a head taller than Joe, and his tawny eyes were formidable.

Joe was also surprised to see the former officer still looking familiar: "Me too." I'm relieved to see you're doing well. But I'm here for a business, too."

He took a small box out of his coat pocket and opened it. On the soft yellow velvet lay a ring of sterling silver, oxidation giving it a mottled black.

"A bishop's seal of the White Church, a fine product."

Speaking of business, Clayton immediately became serious, but instead of taking the box, he whispered, "This kind of treasure is indeed precious, but it is not easy to trade."

White religion is not only the dominant faith of the Dorne kingdom, but of the whole northern world, and even if its status is not as prosperous as that of the Cold Weapons era, such a symbol of power as the bishop's seal is not an object that can be easily shed.

"You can rest assured that this is absolutely legal and no one will care."

Joe shoved the box into Clayton's hand: "It was originally the collection of a foreign friend of mine, but his business has been down recently, and he plans to sell these things to fill the financial gap." I bought this for friendship, but I don't have a hobby for collecting, so I brought it to you."

Clayton reluctantly accepted the box. "How much did you pay for it?"

"Three hundred gold pounds."

Clayton pressed the sideburns, which is a lot of money, but it certainly doesn't match the price of a real bishop's seal.

"You didn't meet this friend at the poker table, did you?"

"Haha....." Joe smiled awkwardly, blinked, and stopped talking.

But from the look on his face, it's clear that he brought this thing back to Sasha for a convenient reason, but there's another reason he really brought him back.

Clayton closed the box and tucked it into his jacket pocket. "I won't say anything more this time. If you have any intention of leaving Sasha soon, I will send the money to your old house as soon as the ring is authenticated."

Joe had no objection to this, and then made a new proposal: "Shall we go to the Big Tree House for a drink at six tomorrow night, like before?"

Clayton had no objection.

After a few more chats and seeing off his old comrades, Clayton went upstairs alone to clean the studio, and finally pulled down the power switch.

The lights of the rusted silver coins dimmed. He went out with a lantern, locked the door, and walked back to the tenement he rented.

...

Clayton Bello never finished college,

He joined the army at the age of eighteen and served eleven years as a cavalry in the Kingdom of Dorne's Whitewater Guards.

When he joined the army, the shoot-in-line tactic was still the mainstream method of warfare, and by the time he left the army, the skirmish tactic had been relatively mature and incorporated into the army code.

Thirty-three was still the prime of his life, but Clayton felt like an old man.

Nothing interested him.

His parents died of an illness while he was in the service, and he didn't get to see them. His own brother, who joined the army together, was shot in the heart by a stray bullet on another battlefield, and his close comrades were torn apart by shells in front of their eyes......

Clayton had given the army more than eleven years of his youth; time was only the least valuable of the things he had lost.

The reason why he chose to be an antique dealer is also that he hopes to change himself under the influence of cultural relics and culture.

After four years of work, he is still confused, but the craft of counterfeiting is getting better......

After dinner, Clayton went to sleep in a room that had been converted into a study.

Joe's gift gave him a headache, and even if it was legal, it was difficult to find a buyer who liked it.

The religious art of white religion is too widespread, and it has made people a little fatigued.

A lot of people don't really care if an antique is genuine, they just want that feeling of uniqueness. Whether the seal is genuine or fake, its simple appearance ensures that the price limit is not too high.

If you want to use the backstory to sell it for a good price, you have to go to some kind of crazy believer.

But Clayton's not very good at dealing with them.

Clayton's parents weren't religious, so neither was he.

The Bello family's only connection to the White Church was when his brother kidnapped a nun from the Abbey for a wife, which made the clergy of the old parish very hostile to the family.

With such a family atmosphere, Clayton certainly did not like contact with the white religion, and there were some other reasons of his own.

But a job is a job.

He took the seal out of his pocket and placed it against himself.

Two crossed tridents stand atop the spire of the bishop's crown.

The weapon means that it should be the property of the officer of the agency in charge of fighting.

Clayton recognized what it meant.

The image of the seal belonged to the Heresy Court, which the White Church had abolished three hundred years earlier, and which was said to be a ghastly institution for the examination and approval of heretics, witches and dark races.

Even civilians who show the slightest sign of deviance can be hunted down by the war priests.

Due to the creation of too many unjust, false and wrong cases, aroused the dissatisfaction of all countries. The White Church eventually abolished the Inquisition, executed a number of the magistrates who served in it, and refused to admit that the absurd and outrageous acts had been ordered by the Pope.

That's what Joe meant by legal.

The Inquisition itself is not recognized by the White religion, so of course the seal will not be prosecuted by the White religion, because even if it is genuine, it is "not" their property.

Clayton glanced at it, and saw that in the box in which it had been kept, under the yellow velvet, there was a square protrusion,

He poured out the lint, and a note fell on the table, which seemed to have been left by the Great Seal's old owner.

"It is said that the seals of the bishops of the Trial Court have divine protection, and they can verify that the master has not been replaced by a shape-shifting monster. He who wears this ring immediately becomes his true form."

He looked at the seal which lay on the table,

In a sort of curiosity Clayton picked up the ring. Turn left and right and put on the left tail finger.

Ten seconds passed in anticipation.

Nothing happened.

"Is it false again? How foolish of me!"

Chagrined, Clayton tried to take the ring off, but was momentarily unable to do so because her finger was too thick.

He got up and went into the bathroom, intending to lubricate himself with soapy water.

But at that moment, the part of the skin in contact with the ring suddenly came a violent burning sensation, which spread like wildfire throughout the body, and in less than half a second the pain went straight to the brain.

His torso swelled, tearing his clothes apart.

Black hair like steel needles protruded from the pores all over the body, even where the hair was not covered was matte black, and the already massive body was swollen by a quarter from height to width, and the limbs showed exaggerated muscle mass, but still had the feeling of slender.

The snout elongated, the ears pointed and pulled back, the head transformed into a Wolf shape, and the tawny eyes glowed in the dark.

Looking down at the clothes that had slipped on the ground, werewolf Clayton scratched his head with sharp nails, and a lot of muffled voices came out of the Wolf kiss, quite a bit of surprise:

"I can't believe it's the real thing this time!"

Werewolf legends are fairly uniform around the world, and this has a lot to do with white religion propaganda.

Werewolves are dangerous shape-shifting monsters who are said to be originally human and, because they are cursed, switch between beast and human forms.

They have great strength and can recover quickly from injuries. Usually like to eat raw meat, belligerent temperament, night often turned into a Wolf type attack pasture, with the ability to control the coordinated attack of wolves.

By day, werewolves take on their human forms and integrate into normal society.

As a true werewolf, Clayton Bello can attest that these legends are mostly true.

He turned into a werewolf on a full moon night half a month ago, and had shown unusual signs before that.

Unusual strong appetite, growing height again, sleepless nights will not feel tired......

But when it comes to social activities, there are no