Chapter 30 Public Security Tasks

Clayton didn't know what Gronier could do to him.

But he hoped it wouldn't be about Julius.

Philip the Mustache took him back to a small room, knocked on the door and announced, and then left alone.

Clayton walked straight in and saw the old man with dark green hair sitting behind his desk lighting his pipe.

He tried several times but failed to polish the match, and finally gave up.

He looked at Clayton, held his pipe in his mouth and said:

"Mr. Bello, you are special."

Clayton was flattered and said bluntly about his suspicion: "Because I beat your son?"

Groene waved his hand: "Don't let Julius affect our mood. He has 32 outstanding brothers and sisters, but he learned nothing from them. His nephews are more promising than him. I am now

I just hope that the place where he died is not an alley with sewage flowing through it, but there is no other hope."

Human love has limits.

When raising his seventh child, he discovered that he had lost the emotion called "love".

"He really thinks highly of me." Clayton said coldly. He is not a person who will be easily impressed.

"It's not that serious."

"Before this year, the number of Presbyterians had been hovering around the figure of three hundred, and when the dark moon was approaching, there were 60 newborns in just six months, not counting those who escaped our sight. If not

Gather and teach the newborns in time, and within a few years, Sasha City will be filled with underground gangs and violent brotherhoods they spontaneously formed, and the peaceful life here will be broken."

"Why do you want to kill people from the Holy Grail Society?"

Groene asked Clayton to sit down and pushed him a box of tobacco, but quickly took it back.

Grone nodded with satisfaction: "I have a job for you. I need you to be a peace officer. The salary is 8 pounds a week. You are responsible for teaching some people how to use guns, leading a team to deal with or bringing back other newborns."

"Nothing to be proud of."

Groene reported a name that Clayton had forgotten after hearing it. He had no impression of the name, but he had a vague impression of this "self-proclaimed". He had said such things to others recently.

Grone also looked at him, as if he had discovered some unknown treasure.

Groene took out a black and white photo and put it on the table. It showed the footprints left on the ground when Clayton jumped from the tall building after sniping the Harpy.

"This is good. I can see it. You are very adaptable to the werewolf's body and are far stronger than ordinary newborns. This shows that you were a powerful warrior before you unlocked the seal of your ancestors."

Clayton pressed his temple. He didn't expect that the topic discussed by the other party would suddenly be so grand.

The old man leaned his back against the soft cushions of the chair and breathed a sigh of relief.

"What else?" The old man showed a confused expression.

Clayton somewhat understood what he meant, and frowned slightly, thinking of Simon.

Grone was not angry because of his actions, but added conditions:

"If you agree, I will tell you the number and location of the Holy Grail's special envoys."

Clayton retorted verbally, but did not actually accept the tobacco.

"But we're trying to delay that from happening," Groene told him. "It just takes a little time and a little help."

"He said it was a secret!"

The pupils of the werewolf's yellow-green eyes shrank immediately. He was sure that he had not told anyone about this, so the only existence that might reveal this was obvious.

"Sorry, I forgot that you are a werewolf. Tobacco will interfere with your sense of smell."

He did not forget to praise: "But if it were you, I believe you wouldn't have so many reasons, and you would definitely try your best to bring them back alive. *** said you are a noble person."

The consequences of being exposed can be imagined. Although most people regard the existence of dark descendants as a joke, once they find out that they really exist and there are dark descendants committing crimes, they will definitely seek help from the church and the government.

And they have a historically hostile relationship. As long as there is a little misunderstanding, a war can easily break out.

Sincerity and kindness are two unrelated words.

If there is a battle, he himself is at risk of being exposed, which is unnecessary.

Clayton picked up the photo and stuffed it into his pocket without giving a reply:

"besides."

Footprints of that shape are not very common except for werewolves.

It was the Presbyterian assessor he couldn't remember.

"After serving as a soldier for so many years, it is strange that I have never killed anyone."

Clayton couldn't see what he was thinking, but he had no choice.

"I heard that you were a soldier. Have you ever killed anyone?"

"*** said you call yourself a pacifist."

Grone did not laugh. He asked the young man who had just entered the new world seriously: "How do you feel about becoming a dark descendant?"

"It is precisely because you like peace, are not short of money, and know how to fight that you are more suitable to do these things."

"Too many missing people will also attract attention, and we really need to strengthen our manpower to maintain the competitiveness of associations in other cities. So we plan to accept these people as much as possible, and at the same time urge the government to increase investment in workhouses to provide the poor with enough to survive.

Get a normal job so that they don't want to commit crime. It sounds stupid, but it is feasible. I believe you have also seen that although Sasha City is not rich, the poor live better than other cities."

Clayton almost laughed, he didn't think this was such a rare quality.

He quickly realized that this was the magical ability of a certain existence.

"You and those gentlemen don't think this is something to be proud of. You have money and status. Being like this is a flaw for you. Even if it has advantages, it is better than losing all your wealth and status after being exposed.

The consequences of social status are not worth mentioning. So who do you think would think that this change is all good?"

"You know when to stop."

"That's why." Groene said.

"Is that why?"

He had a very troublesome intuition. He believed that the other party had a way to convince him, but he couldn't figure out how.

He felt that only Gailed, who had the ability to be easily forgotten by others after seeing him, was suitable for this job.

"Yes, since he told you, I think you should understand that I shouldn't be asked to do this job."

"Okay, then why did you come to me?"

Clayton stared closely into the elder's eyes, and he saw no suspicion or sarcasm in them.

Grone showed an unclear smile: "But most of my people have other jobs, and some people are already doing these things, but they are not doing well. Some people don't have the patience to control newborns, and some people are also new

I have just joined the association, and I don’t want my position to be competed by the new baby. There are many reasons. As a result, being a peace officer is like being an executioner, dealing with those strange corpses, and our informants also have to take risks."

"What does this have to do with you asking me to be the Sheriff?"

But he ignored Clayton's opinion on this arrangement, and the werewolf was quite resistant to it: "I can't think of any benefits to me, and I'm not short of money. Aren't there many people who decided to join the Presbyterian Church today? They are sure

Someone is willing to accept such a high-paying job."

"It's a secret now, but it's just between you and me."

"They are those who don't have much wealth and low status."

"As the dark moon gradually returns, there will be more and more people like this, and sooner or later their adventures will completely expose our existence to the public."

"This is bound to happen," Clayton said, taking a pessimistic view.

He never thought that this kind of peace could be brought by the Presbyterian Church.

Clayton didn't hide this, it wasn't a secret,

He has also gone to the Veterans Officers Club and the Soldiers Mothers Association to make donations before, but many people don't know where he served.

"I don't understand the logic of this."

But this doesn't mean anything, it can only mean that the other person's thoughts at the moment are sincere.

"The Presbyterian Church is a latecomer to the Holy Grail Society and this city, so it knows very little about their grudges with the Mani family, and it cannot intervene because of the original agreement. But if a newcomer has enmity with them before joining the council,

That is no longer something we can know and control." He was implying something.

"Yes - poor people." Gronje sighed and affirmed: "Their living habits have destined them to use force to change the current situation and do not worry about their identity being exposed. The possibility of being wanted is not worth it in their eyes.

First of all, they only see what they can get immediately, and live with envy and hatred for the upper-class gentlemen. Unfortunately, among the new babies in our Presbyterian Church, such people are the majority

.”

Groene faced this fact calmly.

Creighton has indeed felt the changes in the past six months. There is actually a small amount of minced meat in the food at the Solot Parish Workhouse, and no one queues at the door all night long.

Clayton peered at the old man with his eyes. He didn't think that such a small job was enough for the other party to betray another organizational envoy of a similar level.

Unless they want to do it themselves, but they can't because of the rules.

Seeing that he was so sure, Gronje's expression immediately changed.

"That's not what you need to know."
Chapter completed!