Werewolf Hunting Rules.

Chapter 367 Catching Loaches

There weren't many customers in the pawn shop, and the president really remembered the seller's face. The man came with a few other people to sell things, but apart from the business, they didn't reveal any information, so the president had no idea where he was going.

Clayton turned abruptly and walked out of the pawn shop.

But the hustle and bustle of the street had blown away the seller's scent, and one could only detect a little of it in the stagnant and decayed air of this pawn shop.

Clayton went back into the store with a gloomy face. He was not so persistent with this seller because he cared about Des Jonrad's orders. He thought he had done his best to deal with the Dongsen Bank robbery in Sasha City.

But he was totally humiliated by the seller's audacity to invade his house while he had guests!

It would be fine if the seller didn't appear around him in the future, but if he ran into him, he wouldn't mind teaching him a lesson.

He suppressed his unhappiness and bought several items from the seller. He then asked the president if he had seen Jin Jie and Edgar. The president did remember the two helpers, but it had been too long since they met. The president could no longer remember what they had talked about outside of business, and of course he could not remember where they had gone.

He also showed Clayton his diary. When the two men came, they were investigating local goods worth buying according to Clayton's purchasing standards.

Following the rules of business dealings, Clayton left a business card before saying goodbye, and then left with Julius.

After leaving the pawn shop, Clayton asked for the location of the bar and headed there immediately.

The places a thief would go to after selling the stolen goods are nothing more than bars, brothels and casinos. There may be exceptions, but if it is a group of thieves, then they have to go there.

The residents of this town basically do not rely on farming for a living. They have a train station, and the cost of noise is a steady stream of guests.

All kinds of service facilities are built here, with huge colorful signs competing with each other for beauty. There are at least two or three stores open for each pleasure business, and thieves are always around.

The locals here would like to take every penny from the travelers.

Clayton and Julius went to the bar first to observe, but the seller was not there.

They rushed to the casino again. When they reached the door, Clayton had sensed something and told Julius to guard the back door. He walked into the front door himself. Seeing his strong and tall figure and the steady steps honed by his military career, the gunman guarding the door could not maintain his tense expression. He moved to the side uneasily and nodded politely to Clayton.

The casino was packed with people and there were not enough seats available, but the players didn't care. They shouted loudly, banged the table, and cried. Even those who were dressed the poorest were reluctant to leave.

There were no chairs, so they gambled while standing, blocking the aisle.

There is a gunman at each gambling table to prevent anyone from breaking down and going crazy, or from thieves visiting.

The air smelled of sweat, bad breath, urine, alcohol, and blood.

Clayton was almost impressed by his ability to identify the seller's scent from these smells, but it also made him even angrier. He had endured so much to catch this bastard, and he had to let the seller know that he was not to be trifled with.

He followed the smell and squeezed his way through the aisle, and the people he bumped into didn't even turn around to ask for punishment.

After passing through the crowd, the scene in front of Clayton finally became brighter. He found that the smell of the seller remained on a stool next to a round gambling table. There were cards scattered on the corresponding position on the table, but he didn't know where the person had gone.

"Who's sitting here?" Clayton asked the other gamblers sitting at the table.

A gambler took out one of his cards and threw it on the table, and answered him casually: "No one is here."

Clayton didn't believe the answer: "Then why is it empty?"

There are so many people standing around because they can't find a seat, but there is an unknown empty seat here. The probability is pitifully small.

Another gambler answered him while playing cards: "In just this short time this afternoon, five people have already lost money sitting in this seat. Maybe God doesn't bless the people sitting in this seat today, so no one dares to sit here."

Clayton resisted the urge to smash the chair.

"So when did the last person to sit in this seat leave?"

"About half an hour ago," said the gambler who had just answered. "He went in through the back door to clean up his luck."

Clayton hadn't even been here half an hour, and the seller must have run away. He had missed this little thief again!

The main target disappeared again. The noisy voices and dice sounds nearby were like a spell, disturbing Clayton. The werewolf tried his best to suppress his gradually heating blood and the bloodthirsty desire that surged with it: "Do you know where he went?"

The gamblers looked up at him unhappily, their bloodshot eyes showing no fear at all: "Dude, are you here to ask questions or to gamble?"

"I'm here to find someone."

"It's boring, sit down and play a few rounds." The gambler next to him advised. "Don't worry about that chair, I think it's superstition."

This was a good start, and the gamblers nearby became excited.

"Yeah, yeah, yeah, sit down and play a couple of rounds, and we'll tell you where he went!"

Clayton's hatred for the seller gradually shifted to this group of people, and he clenched his fists because he really didn't like being threatened.

But a gambler suddenly spoke up, forcing him to listen patiently: "However, I have no money left. I do have the goods that the guy just pawned. He was reluctant to sell them when he went to the pawn shop before, and he only handed them over because he had no choice but to lose. This is definitely a valuable item. If you agree to use this as collateral, we can continue gambling."

It turned out that the person who had accompanied the seller to the pawn shop was not his companion, but a gambler who asked him for debt.

Listening to the gambler's description, Clayton couldn't help but think of Des Jorrad's gift.

"I have to see what it is first." He pretended to check its color.

The gambler who was speaking took out a long box from his pocket. He took off the lid and inside was a metal syringe lying on a black velvet cloth.

That's it!

Clayton recognized its identity the first time he saw it.

"Fuck, I got fooled by that guy!" The gambler cursed in surprise. It was the first time he saw this thing. "Damn, the box is so beautiful, but there's a broken syringe inside!"

The gamblers next to him also burst into laughter when they saw his expression.

"If you don't want it, I can buy it as a small thank you for answering your questions." Clayton said calmly.

The gambler rolled his eyes. Perhaps it was God's blessing that his brain, which had been paralyzed by the strong stimulation, suddenly had a flash of inspiration.

"You actually came here for this thing, right? Otherwise, just give me the money. But I also think it's pointless to talk about money directly. You sit on that chair and play two games with us. If I lose, I will give it to you."

The other gamblers were also looking at Clayton, and their expectant eyes made him realize that the misfortune that had occurred on the chair must have really happened.

Clayton glanced around and noticed that there were more than ten gunmen here, and it was not known whether there were any upstairs.

"Okay, I agree."

He sat down in the unfortunate chair.

"What the hell are you doing? Did you find that bastard? I'm freezing to death outside!"

Julius was sniffing at the back door with his arms folded, while Clayton Bello walked out of the back door with a dull look in his eyes and a dazed expression, as if he had completely lost the spirit of being a human being.

"I lost. I actually lost 50 pounds." The lieutenant murmured as if he was possessed by a spirit.

"You really came here just for gambling, didn't you?!"

Hearing this, Julius yelled in anger. He jumped up and grabbed Clayton's collar and shook him hard, as if he had lost his own money. "That's 50 pounds! Your gambling skills are so bad, you might as well give the money to me!"

Clayton recovered a little, but was still in a trance. He didn't even think about pushing the wizard away. Instead, he defended himself: "It's not that my card skills are bad. I played a good hand of cards when I was a soldier. Yes, yes."

He wanted to defend himself, but he couldn't explain why things turned out like this. After hesitating for a few seconds, his expression suddenly became firm and he pointed his right index finger at the sky.

"It was Trud Osmar who did it!"