Werewolf Hunting Rules.

Chapter 405: Clayton Bello's Love History and the Art of Swearing

"Does this bother you?"

"No, I mean I'm used to hurting people."

Norris closed the window and turned to look at Clayton. His eyes were more serious than before. Although his tone did not change, Clayton could feel that what he said before was for this moment.

"So, do you look down on me now for this?"

Clayton sighed, "No, I'm not much better myself, so how can I blame you? Besides, I actually feel the same way as you."

At the critical moment, he paused and changed the content he originally wanted to confess to another part.

Since Norris didn't discuss the past few years with him, he just talked about the past.

"I didn't say it, but you should know that when I was in the army, I stopped contacting prostitutes from a certain day and regarded this past experience as a dirty history of my life."

"Is this change due to the questioning of moralists?" Norris asked with interest.

Clayton shook his head and continued to explain the past event.

In the years after he joined the army, he eventually got into the habit of hiring prostitutes, despite his brother Ulen's frequent dissuasion.

He had never been loved by girls of his age in his hometown, and he was in a stage of frequent emotional arousal, so he could not help but have some fantasies about those gorgeous women. The rules of the military camp were very harsh, and the officers required the soldiers to fear themselves more than death, and cruel corporal punishment often occurred, which made people depressed and urgently needed external things to relieve their depression.

With all these conditions at stake, Clayton naturally couldn't resist the temptation to have sex with a strange woman.

During that time, he has escaped moral condemnation.

Both parties were willing, who could be blamed? Maybe these women needed his money to support their families, and many poor widows would rely on selling their bodies to raise their children - with these thoughts in mind, Clayton spent these days in a normal state of mind.

Until one night a few years later, when he was lying on the bed smoking and resting after having sex with a prostitute, the woman suddenly spoke with a smile on her face: "You are so gentle. I want to sell my daughter's virginity to you. She deserves a good man."

Then she called in the girl whom Clayton had always thought was a hired maid and asked her to undress for him.

Clayton Bailey was stunned for a moment, and then he jumped up in shock at these words that went against his "common sense". He only had time to grab his pants and ran away from them. He never went back and stopped soliciting prostitutes from then on.

"I know this may seem like a small thing to many people, but for me it was like telling me 'I have always been walking with my head and thinking with my feet'. From then on, the world looked different to me."

"I understand what you mean." Norris nodded.

For Clayton, it was noble for a woman to sell her dignity for money in order to devote herself to her family and raise her children, but to sell her dignity for money along with her daughter?
"I thought a lot later and realized that when a person loses their dignity, the world they see is no longer the same as that of normal people. After losing her dignity, a mother could take the act of selling her children for granted because she had lost her self-esteem for too long. When a person can still survive without dignity, she will not think that dignity is necessary, so she did not think it was a sinful act at all when she did it."

"On the other hand, this prostitute sold her daughter to me because she was the guardian of this young girl and had complete control over her child, including the sale of her body. If she had control over others, she would definitely sell them out. And those she sold would eventually become like her, like an evil plague."

"When I thought about this, the whole world was suddenly full of sin, including myself. I had unknowingly become a promoter of sin."

“But then you turned over a new leaf,” Norris said, which was unlike him.

Clayton sighed, "I started dealing with married women afterwards."

The first time he became someone else's lover, it was not him who took the initiative, but it was the woman who started it.

A senior military officer hosted a banquet at his home for his colleagues and subordinates, Clayton Bello was one of them. At midnight, the men were no longer satisfied with drinking and playing cards at home, they wanted to go out and have fun, but Clayton had been the focus of attention and unanimous targeting because of his extraordinary drinking capacity, so he got half drunk and could not join them, so he had to spend the night at the senior military officer's house.

The officer's wife took care of him personally. When he was half drunk and half awake, he revealed that he liked sculpture art. Who knew that this lady was also an art lover. They only chatted for an hour or two, and Clayton already regarded this beautiful woman as a confidant. However, because she already had a husband, he only regarded her as a friend.

Afterwards, the lady's husband invited him to his home so that they could spend more time together.

When they met again after they had met, Clayton and the lady talked about famous sculptures from ancient and modern times around the world. They had a great conversation and time seemed to slow down.

So when we met for the second time, Clayton talked about the beauty of muscle texture.

At the third meeting, Clayton elaborated on the influence of materials on the actual sculpture work.

During the fourth meeting, Clayton talked about how to shape the face of divinity.

The fifth time they met, Clayton wanted to talk more, but the lady refused to let him continue. She took him to her separate bedroom for spiritual meditation and said that she must see his masculinity today. Clayton had to show her. That day, the relationship between the two people changed by leaps and bounds, and they became "lovers".
In the days that followed, because of the frequent banquets of the senior officer, Clayton always had the opportunity to meet with his wife secretly, and they indulged again and again. Although Clayton Bello felt guilty, he was driven by the love that sprouted in his heart and continued to do this immoral thing.

Over time, he actually felt that this love that broke through secular morality was somewhat romantic.

But strangely, when he mentioned art again, the lady was not as patient as she was at the beginning.

One day, he met the lady in private again. After the pleasure, for some inexplicable reason, he suddenly wanted to know what this relationship was all about, so he asked the lady:

"Are we having an affair now?"

This was a really stupid question, and probably everyone knew the answer. Clayton regretted it the moment he asked it, but the woman lying in bed with him gave him an unexpected answer.

"Of course not."

"Why not?" Young Clayton asked back.

The woman's answer once again exceeded his expectations: "Because my husband knows about what happened between us."

"He knows?!"

"Why else does he always invite you to our house?"

Forbidden love and romance disappeared from Clayton Bello's mind in an instant, including the art itself that started it all.

He looked around the bedroom blankly, trying to prove from other things that everything just now was false. In the process, his sight accidentally turned to the dressing mirror standing at the end of the woman's bed. The mirror reflected a pair of vulgar men and women who couldn't be more vulgar, and they were not wearing clothes.

"Later, I realized that there was no love in this relationship, nor was there a second person who loved art. Considering the difference in status between us, if our genders were switched, it would be no different from a nymphomaniac male master asking his wife to find a well-educated maid for him. I knew that what I was looking for did not exist at all, but I continued this relationship for two months to satisfy my carnal desires."

And after that, he continued to be attracted to such women, again and again.

When Clayton sighed, Norris sighed too, and he looked genuinely sorry for Clayton.

"Indeed, your experience is similar to mine. Wealth and women have the same seductive nature. They have completely ruined us."

"I don't think so," Clayton said. "No matter how I was deceived or seduced, there is still a prerequisite for the situation to lead to the final bad result - I am willing to do so. Since I am willing to do so, then of course I must take the greatest responsibility. If I want to change, I can only start with myself."

Norris sighed: "You are a real man, Clayton. But I have given up. I have tried many ways, but I have never achieved the desired results. I have no choice but to live on. After all, people always have to look forward, don't you think?"

"That's good," Clayton said.

Hearing his agreement, Norris realized something, and he slapped his forehead in distress. In this casual action, Clayton suddenly saw another Norris who was more like Norris than the current one. "Yes, my fault. I wanted to answer your question, but I only complained to you about my own affairs without considering your feelings. It's a shame to keep letting you listen to and think about these bad things."

Norris, whom Clayton had just found, disappeared again, but he had already grasped that familiar feeling.

In fact, people's expressions are not the same every time. Even if it is the same emotion, they will be slightly different due to many conditions and factors. But all of Norris' expressions are the same every time they appear, smile, sadness, seriousness, helplessness. They are like polished masks, he will wear them when he needs them, and now he wears them again.

Clayton thought he had relaxed a long time ago, but he was actually on guard the whole time.

Only yesterday, when Norris was in a state of extreme fatigue, and in the few minutes before that when Norris followed him around to observe, had the expression on this face been free.

The lieutenant took a deep breath and let it out long.

"Norris, you know what? Just now, I realized that there is actually a serious problem in our conversation."

"I know, and I'm sorry," Norris said.

"That's not the question you're talking about."

"What's the problem?"

Clayton looked sadly at Norris, who was well-behaved and wrapped in a gorgeous dress. It seemed as if he had turned into a porcelain doll with cracks on its surface, a flashy thing: "Didn't you notice that there was no swearing in our conversation?"

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The wealthy man with a mysterious experience was stunned and looked at Clayton Bello in surprise.

"I'm sorry, but I don't think this is a serious matter."

"Norris!" Clayton raised his voice seriously. "We are wearing good clothes now, but what kind of people were we before we put on these clothes? Do you remember? During the training, we were covered in wounds. In our spare time, we had to brush the horses of those senior officers whose riding skills were not as good as ours. We ran around doing miscellaneous tasks and were exhausted and sweaty. At that time, we often cursed in private."

"When we curse people, we don't consider other things at all. We curse the idiots of the neighboring regiment, the officers are good-for-nothings, the generals are idiots, the queen is mentally retarded, and no matter how high the status of a person is, they cannot escape our insults."

"Swearing is the purest expression of emotion. It is part of our defenseless nature."

"We will only be polite when we want to pretend, but at this moment, do we two old friends need to pretend to each other?"

Swearing is not something that should be used in elegant conversations, but at this moment Clayton was discussing the matter in a scholarly manner.

He had to do this, he had to re-establish consensus with the changed Norris.

"I'm sorry, but this is not a disguise. This is a new habit I have developed." Norris explained calmly: "I have to deal with some emotional and dangerous people frequently, and in order to avoid offending them, my father forced me to quit the habit of swearing."

Clayton responded to Norris's explanation by giving him a push, causing him to stagger.

"Your new shitty habit, forget it now and start swearing at me now!"

"I can't think of anything to scold you about right now."

"Don't think about swearing." Clayton pressed forward step by step, not giving the opponent any room to breathe.

“This is boring.”

"There is no man who doesn't swear, so hurry up and say it!"

This time, a hole was opened in the iron wall. The new look of distress on Norris's face was not fake. He leaned against the wall with his hanging hands supporting the wall. His eyes kept rolling, his face was getting redder and redder, and he racked his brains to think of a swear word.

"Fuck it!" Clayton suddenly yelled in his ear.

The werewolf's howl was so unusual that the windows in the corridor on this floor trembled in their frames.

Norris looked up quickly, but still stared at the werewolf blankly.

"Dry"

He had uttered the crucial word, but it came out so soft and powerless that it was no more than a parody.

"Fuck it! Tell me! Just say this!"

Norris said dryly: "Fuck him."

"Fuck it."

"."

He tried to pronounce the sentence, over and over again, until the minute hand of the clock in the room he was facing turned half a circle, and his voice still lacked something called soul, making the swear word more like a greeting than an attack.

"Fuck it."

Clayton couldn't bear it anymore, he suddenly stretched out a finger and poked Norris hard in the abdomen. This action was completely unexpected. Norris was naturally unprepared, and the sudden pain made him bend down and squat.

"Fuck it!" Clayton repeated.

"Fuck it!" Norris, who was squatting on the ground, said while enduring the pain. The next moment, he suddenly froze.

At this moment, there was a feeling in his tone, a feeling that could turn decayed language into something magical. It was the most sincere anger, which suddenly gave new life to the dead fetus of "Fuck it".

Under normal circumstances, Norris would never say such a thing even if he was attacked unexpectedly.

But just now, he had been repeating this monotonous swear word for dozens of minutes, his thoughts were confused, and this was the only sentence in his mind, and when the right emotion came, they matched perfectly together.

"Fuck it!"

He uttered a perfect, powerful curse word.

Norris' eyes widened, he squatted in the corner, raised his hands to cover his face, but Clayton had already seen the corners of his mouth unconsciously pulled open.

"Hehe. Hahahahahahahaha"

Laughter came out of Norris's mouth, and his volume became higher and higher, more and more wanton, and finally reached the level of madness. When the squatting posture was not suitable for laughing, he simply let go of his hands and knelt on the ground, supporting himself on the ground and laughing as if no one was around, and even slapped the floor while laughing. If the servants had not been driven out, they would have been surprised at this outrageous behavior.

Clayton also laughed. He saw the strong vitality and familiar feeling returning to Norris.

And when Norris had laughed enough, he got up, his eyes filled with light.

"Clayton, you are absolutely right. No man can avoid swearing. It feels really good. If you were my personal doctor, I would pay you a thousand pounds for this swear word, but you are my best friend, so I won't give you a penny."

"Fuck it!" Clayton said in a clear voice.