The door opened a crack, revealing half of Joe Mani's face.

After seeing that it was Clayton, he quickly opened the door, and then turned around nervously, as if he was wary of something.

Seeing how energetic he was, Clayton felt relieved.

The shot just now still had the risk of killing Joe, but Joe has always been lucky.

He reached out to the side, lifted the paralyzed harpy outside without any blood stain, and then closed the door.

"Lieutenant, have you ever seen this kind of thing?"

Joe asked with his back to Clayton, he raised his gun vigilantly and pointed it at the squirming stumps on the ground.

The deformed hand on the tip of the severed wing was trying to crawl on the ground.

Clayton held the unconscious harpy up and looked at it, and was disappointed to find that the main body might not be as active as this severed limb:

The woman's head tilted back and hit the empty rusty iron frame behind her, but the sound was insignificant compared to the gunshot.

Dogs and wolves are the same animal, and Clayton can control them.

"Not a new word, but a theological word."

"tell me your name."

"It looks like a human being."

The harpy suddenly opened its eyes, and two lines of tears flowed down its face.

Clayton seemed to have received a heavy blow in his heart:

In such an important institution as the Sheriff, there are actually inhuman beings mixed in, and they have existed for a long time!

The harpy opened her mouth, but did not make any sound. While tears were streaming down her face, she even forced an expression that could be called a smile.

"Darkborn? Is this a new word?"

"You are so interested in fishing at night."

The Sheriff chuckled:

"You're welcome. We dark descendants should help each other."

Clayton went to the door to warn outsiders approaching, leaving Joe Mani to do business inside the warehouse.

Soon, they moved the harpy to a nearby remote abandoned building.

"We are not familiar with each other yet, so this is a secret. But if you are interested, you can come to see me at the General Public Security Bureau tomorrow. I can answer some of your questions."

"Harpy" nodded, then looked at the gun in Joe Mani's hand, his eyes full of desire.

At the end of the street, a man blocked the way.

He took a few seconds to calm down, squatted next to him, and pressed the harpy's cheeks to force it to speak:

"You better say something or else"

"It?" Joe gestured to the Harpy's body with his gun in disbelief: "Can I ask that?"

The sheriff nodded: "But it's so late, even St. Mellon Parish is not safe. There seems to have been a shooting just ahead, so it's really unsafe. I'd better walk with you for a while."

Because of his military experience in the Luolun War, he also learned Taunton, but he was not as good as Qiao.

Clayton's tawny eyes were glowing.

She can no longer speak.

Joe's expression froze, and the vivid emotions on his face made him temporarily ignore other inhuman parts:

He turned around and shouted: "Lieutenant, something isn't right here?"

If Clayton himself were a werewolf with the body of a wolf and the head of a human, he might not be able to accept it either.

"You kill her."

In the dark and dusty space, the sound of the surging waves outside was clearly audible, but it gave people an inexplicable sense of deep silence, and the breath became heavy.

Joe held a candlestick in one hand and a revolver in the other, facing the bound monster, recalling his previous experiences.

Clayton didn't explain any more, just took the gun from his hand and shot back without looking back.

He had just done something that made him very unhappy, so he was now more irritable than usual.

Clayton tightened his collar, threw away the revolver, then picked up his rifle from the ground, put it on his shoulder and walked out.

It has a long mouth, the face of a young woman is distorted, and she tries to tilt her head forward.

In order to prevent the barrel from being exposed by reflection, Creighton's Conqueror rifle was covered with a thick black cloth cover. He was not worried that the other party would see what it was.

He walked back along the original road alone. He didn't know how long he walked, but there were more and more houses on the road.

Creighton leaned against the door with his rifle in his arms, playing the barrel with his fingers like a harp. He saw the tears on the young face of the harpy and the disgusting body, and he felt irritable for some reason.

"Good evening, do you need help?"

"Tell me your name."

He is a werewolf, but he is also a human, so who is this guy?

Not even a human body.

"You don't know about this, do you?"

"I think I've seen it before."

"What the hell!" Clayton suddenly lowered his gun.

He stopped and retracted his fingers as if they were shocked.

Galeed's footsteps suddenly stopped. In front of them was No. 214 Mercy Street.

"It has a head after all. Take it with you, and then we change places."

"This is really unbelievable to me. Can you prove your identity?"

"Damn it, why is it getting worse and worse?"

This display of panic made Clayton a little impatient.

The night outside the abandoned warehouse was quiet, with only a little moonlight shining through.

"Are you human?" Clayton brushed away the feathers under his neck. There was a purple-black mark there, and the edges had begun to fester severely.

If what this man says is true, what kind of city does he live in?!

He glanced back, thankful that Joe didn't follow.

This is the dock area on the edge of Sasha City.

This is a rented house.

The banshee's tears welled up again and dripped down her chin,

Clayton had doubts about the safety here. Although no one noticed him firing, the escaping coachman might come back with the peace officer patrolling at night to check:

Joe glanced at his gun and the broken window behind him, then looked back at the bullet holes in the wall.

"No, I just finished fishing and was going home."

That's a serious sense of blasphemy.

The smell is really strong.

"Let's go, we've wasted our efforts."

Maybe you might be able to accept it when you see him in his werewolf form like this?

It would be suspicious to refuse any more.

Clayton Bello walked in from the door carrying a heavy rifle: "What do you mean?"

He recalled the scene during the cremation of the recently deceased, those beings that had been judged to be corpses would twitch in the flames.

It seemed to be of no use, as the eagle with the head of a woman looked at him.

"But it's crying." Joe's voice was filled with panic.

Having a human part in a monster is even more disgusting than being a monster entirely.

"OK."

"It's better to look like a human being. It means it knows how to be afraid. Ask it where its owner is."

Joe didn't see the real thing on Clayton's hand, but he still felt the gradually getting stronger smell.

The Sheriff walked leisurely with his dog, seemingly not worried about Clayton sneaking up from the side.

Clayton's eyes tightened.

Qiao thought for a while and asked again in Taunton.

Joe looked at him but did not follow him.

Joe thought he didn't hear clearly: "What?"
To be continued...