Just as two police officers were riding through the neighborhood, a young man fell down in pain beside them.

Before this incident, this man had been hunched over, looking as depressed as any person who stayed out late at night. They had various reasons to make themselves like this, either drunk or tired, so this was not considered a case.

A strange thing.

Clayton could see at a glance that there was no place to hide a weapon under his thin clothes. He immediately dismounted to confirm the poor man's condition.

His partner Martin hesitated for a moment, and when he saw Clayton's hand touching the young man, he dismounted and followed.

"We should be more cautious," he said.

This is both a warning and an explanation for my slow response.

Clayton did not continue what he said, but stretched out his hand to measure the young man's breathing and body temperature, and then withdrew his hand.

"He seems to be sick."

This guy's temperature was quite abnormal, and his forehead felt like the eggs the landlady had given him for breakfast.

Martin came over and touched him again, then frowned and cursed.

Then everyone looked at Clayton.

This was obviously a late-night burglary, and the victim was an unguarded bank store.

After the beginning of the colonial era, the minarets erected in imitation of the Mesri Obelisk are evidence of their existence.

"Brother, make way."

Martin's rescue was very timely. He hit the young man several times, forcing him to let go of the lieutenant.

Clayton helped Martin open the young man's hand that was holding the horse's tail, and at the same time used his own scent to warn the horse not to raise its hoof at them.

Martin spat, squatted down and grabbed the patient's armpits, helped him lie on the horse's back, then got on the horse and urged the horse.

"OK."

Martin lay on the young man's back and struggled to tie his hands.

Martin ignored his joke, jumped off the horse, and pulled the young man off the horse in distress.

What's worse is that the faces of those gang members did not show the panic that criminals should have when encountering law enforcement officers. Although they were surprised for a moment, they quickly regained their composure.

One of the clergy stood up and shouted to the bastards: "The Sheriff is here, are you still going to continue?"

Clayton looked at the young man, he was still in a state of dementia.

But when he caught the young man, this mood disappeared.

When Clayton rode past the bank store, he saw some gang members wearing inferior red uniforms clashing with another group of White clergy wearing white cloaks.

His previous joke was not wrong, this young man was in the midst of boundless greed and hunger.

Even if it declines for a time, the power of the church can still easily shake the city.

During this process, Clayton noticed the young man's eyes.

The power of the church is dominant here.

That nihilistic celestial body that cannot even be observed with the naked eye can cause such a big mess. Even if he already has a certain understanding of the extraordinary world, he will still find this reality unbelievable.

It turns out that he is the kind of person who believes in everything. Clayton suddenly understood.

During the entire process, the young man never said a word, his eyes were clear but defiant.

"Have you really not heard of it? We have another internal theory about those monsters, saying that they are special diseases. As long as they are infected, even devout monks will have difficulty escaping to a twisted fate."

He wants to send this young werewolf to the nearest Presbyterian stronghold in this parish.

A gang member who was stout but not as strong as Clayton stood up and shouted at him: "Or you have to ask us to shout 'get out' before you know what to do?!"

Creighton did not choose to take off his Silver Star badge for the sake of safety on the road. Unexpectedly, his identity as the Sheriff became a source of trouble at this moment. Although he had consciously stopped and waited, trying to find a way around the unfamiliar streets and alleys.

Driving the small road here, the development of the situation did not allow him to stay out of it.

Clayton looked back at him in surprise: "I thought this question was asked a little late."

"I want to ask, can you look after the horse for me?" Clayton looked at the priests in white. They all wore hoods and couldn't see their faces clearly. Naturally, he couldn't tell who was in charge.

Although the Presbyterian Church is powerful, it can only leave one stronghold in the chaotic area of ​​St. Alvin Parish, which is no different from the Gray Hats.

There were seven of them, with shining daggers and clubs studded with rusty nails shaking in their hands. Opposite them, the White Sect's priests were two fewer than them in number. They were all silent, but

Even with bare hands, he didn't move away from the door of the bank.

The villains burst into laughter, and even more so when they saw Clayton rolling up his sleeves.

Although that celestial body has disappeared for hundreds of years, it has watched the older world and even participated in shaping the history of various countries.

As winter approaches, the streets become more and more lively late at night. Not only are the police officers patrolling, there are also drunkards, homeless people, and gang members with ill intentions, especially the last group of people, the mines.

The massacre did not eliminate their existence.

"Then how does he deal with it? How do you usually deal with this kind of situation?"

How can people living on this land escape the influence of the moonlight?

Just as he was thinking, the young man on the horse groaned untimely, and accompanied by this strange behavior, Martin lost control of his mount.

They all looked back, and Martin immediately screamed at this young man's astonishing move.

Clayton shook his head: "If he doesn't bring any money, let the doctor keep it in his account. We are only responsible for sending him to the clinic. The rest is up to Heavenly Father."

Martin is a resident of this parish and knows exactly where the clinics are.

On the way to the clinic, Martin suddenly asked nervously: "Do you think he might have an infectious disease?"

Martin took out his pocket watch and took a look at it, then took a breath with waning interest: "I really don't know if we are lucky or unlucky today. When we met this guy, our patrol time was over before we were even halfway through the journey.

Now. Go home now. If you are anxious, you can go to the clinic to have your hands checked first."

If the landlady hadn't stored a lot of bacon in the cellar, it would have been difficult for him to survive the initial period of transforming into a wolf. Most wild werewolves were unable to suppress their desires in the early stages of transformation, thus exposing their existence to society.

Martin's face suddenly turned ugly.

It was a pair of brown eyes that were also shining.

"Obstructing city security, this kind of behavior will usually be sent to the Sheriff's Department for punishment of one to two weeks in prison. But his situation is a bit complicated. I have never encountered a madman at work." Martin picked up the young man and moved to

Behind Clayton's horse. "Do me a favor. You can send him there this time. Or send him to a specialized clinic for treatment of madness. It's up to you. I have to let the doctor take a look at my horse quickly."

In addition, they have special sources of confidence.

This statement is quite accurate. The process of accepting the Dark Moon Curse is just like the spread of disease, except that its mutations are not spread through person-to-person contact.

The lieutenant is in a good mood. He has learned a lot of new gadgets in the past few days and picked up a good ax. If it weren't for the fact that it was too eye-catching and couldn't be brought out for self-defense, then his recent life would be perfect.

of.

"He must be starving."

This familiar behavior and physical signs made the lieutenant aware of his identity - a werewolf in the process of transformation.

Although the Sheriff is here, he is only one person after all.

But he only remained silent for two or three seconds before he was misunderstood very unfairly.

"Damn! The night clock has already struck. Where is the clinic open now? He smells like a drunk who just came out of the pub. I hope he still has enough money to pay for the clinic after paying for the drinks.

I didn’t bring any money when I came out tonight.”

"He's really strong."

When he met newborns, it was one of his obligations to secretly send them to the Presbyterian Church for "education".

But the lieutenant had a new question: "Why do you think so? I have never heard about the epidemic."

Because the young man gave up biting the horse and started biting him.

"I said you can rest assured that this is not an infectious disease." Clayton said: "There is no infectious disease in the world that can cause such symptoms."

He felt extremely distressed. The horse did not belong to the Sheriff's Department, but was his own property.

Clayton put on gloves and went to help.

Clayton actually didn't want to stay at all. He thought that at least one of the clerics had a gun and could easily handle this conflict. There was also a werewolf on his horse waiting to be transported, and he really didn't have the energy to care about the other one.

Nosy.

"Well, if you are serious, then all I can say is that this is unlikely to be an infectious disease. The health department did not report the epidemic, the cemetery statistics did not report any abnormalities, and he does not look like a whooping cough patient. So.

." Clayton slightly shrugged one shoulder, indicating that the other party should think for himself.

Clayton mounted his horse and followed him, standing just a little behind him.

Martin seemed ashamed to speak, and after a while he spoke helplessly.

The teeth marks on the palms also seemed familiar.

"You're right. But I've already touched his wallet. The thickness should be enough to deal with those 'vampires'."

"That's crazy! I've never seen anything so obscene!"

"Damn it, he's chewing my horse's ass!"

Clayton simply agreed, and then led the horse back.

Pure like a beast.

The train brings too many foreigners, who are not only the prey of the gangs, but also provide a steady stream of new troops for the gangs.

The sheriff did indeed gradually ease his mood while thinking.

"Can."

The voice came from a pair of shadowed lips.

Then a priest in white clothes next to him came out and took the reins from Clayton's hand.

There will be another update soon
Chapter completed!