Werewolf Hunting Rules.

Chapter 436 What Clayton Seeks
Seeing his two companions dead and his commander knocked down, the last rifleman on the plank road instinctively stepped back, but was knocked down by the werewolf's arm and hit the ground headfirst. After a sound of bone fracture, he did not move again.

When the red-haired warrior commander got up, his three successful subordinates were all dead. He looked around with red eyes and saw Clayton doing nothing. He spat and roared:

"Laviin, why are you just watching? Are you a traitor?"

He did not see the battle situation of his subordinates downstairs, but this shout really helped them a lot - one of the werewolves used his extraordinary hearing to hear his address "Edwards" in the sound of battle and immediately realized the clue.

However, being distracted during a battle was a huge mistake. The next second, one of the giant wolf's front legs was half blown off by a shotgun fired with silver bullets. Its huge body could hardly maintain balance and it rushed diagonally towards the pile of cargo on the side. After crashing through a pile of crates, it was covered by their wreckage.

This opened up the situation for the warehouse guards, and they moved closer to the light source at the first chance, concentrating on guarding against the last two werewolves that could still launch an attack, and then arranged to shoot in turns. The continuous gunfire coverage prevented the werewolves from having a chance to kill for a while.

Unlike the advantages on the ground, on the plank road above, the mad wolf born from the baptism of the dark moon took advantage of the red-haired supervisor's distraction and pounced forward.

People usually divide extraordinary people into seven levels, but this cannot fully explain the real differences. The algorithm for actual abilities is more complicated.

Just like comparing human warriors and shapeshifters of the same level, the red-haired supervisor and the werewolf opponent should be at the same level using the above algorithm, probably at the knight level.

During the day, this warrior could defeat the werewolf, who could not transform, with his bare hands, but at night, without any external aid, his chance of defeat was 100%, and even with the aid of armor and weapons, he would have to fight hard to gain no more than a 50% chance of victory.

And now is night.

This werewolf was smaller than Clayton, but its body size had surpassed that of a human. The red-haired supervisor left a half-foot-long wound on its body, but because it was not a vital part, it could still continue fighting.

The sharp roar exploded in the warehouse again.

It suddenly leaped up and knocked the soldier to the ground at the cost of having its waist pierced by a bayonet. The barbed wire beneath it made a series of noises. Then it swung its claws continuously to tear at the opponent's chest, leaving scratches on the metal. The soldier raised his hands to protect his head and face, using his steel arm armor to block a series of fatal attacks, and then he seized the opportunity to punch the werewolf in the nose, and blood flowed from its nose and mouth.

Clayton watched the fight. The look in the werewolf's eyes was very familiar. It was the madness caused by pain. Based on past experience, he knew what would happen next.

Without his weapon, even if the red-haired warrior could still fight back, he would inevitably be defeated. He would kill the man and then eat him.

But Clayton did not feel uncomfortable at all, and did not intend to take the initiative to stop it.

How strange, he thought.

When the time comes, Clayton will still wonder whose side he is on.

If he was a werewolf, why did he insist on staying and fighting against Conlionet? He shouldn't be the one to avenge Ginger and Edgar. According to rational considerations, he should return to a safe place to recuperate.

If he were a human, he would agree with the Sacred Heart Fraternity's approach of excluding dissidents. Even if they wanted to deal with the Presbyterian Church in Sasha City, he could just move away and stay away from the conflict.

He once told his best friend Norris that people have two legs but can only walk on one side. Now it is his turn to choose.

It seems that Clayton should identify himself as a werewolf, but this "self" has only been born for a short time. If he were a human, what kind of person would Clayton be?
Farmer? To be honest, he didn't want to be a farmer anymore, because that meant being at the mercy of others.

Soldier? He even looked down on himself during that period. His talents and abilities were lost on the battlefield.

Antique dealer? This was the most boring career in Clayton's life.

Even without talking about actual experiences, Clayton can't say for sure what kind of person he is.

He is not a man who hates evil, but he is definitely not a man who has committed all kinds of evil. He will not bow down to the rich, but he is also indifferent to the poor. He himself does not think that he belongs to any category.

He has no fixed moral code and only acts according to the impulse of his heart, so simple good and evil cannot describe him.

When all the past was denied and even the race was changed, Clayton had to ask himself again:

"Who am I?"

The original Clayton seemed to have died at some imperceptible moment. Now he was just an empty shell without a soul, acting according to the inertia of his life. He was conservative and closed, and had no desires. It seemed that, as Des Jonrad said, he had become a werewolf ascetic.

After Donna came to Sasha City, he thought for a while that he had found hope for a new life, but it was just an illusion. Although that silly girl could make him happy, she couldn't help him find who he was.

"Drink!"

While Clayton was thinking, the battle between the red-haired supervisor and the mad wolf was still going on. He grabbed the arms of the werewolf riding on him and forcibly stopped the opponent's attack, but the gap in their physical fitness was too great and he could not control it for too long. In this brief moment, the warrior took the initiative to straighten his upper body and bite towards the werewolf's throat.

It seems that not only werewolves, but also humans' wildness is aroused at this moment.

The flat teeth could not pierce, but only cut through flesh with brute force. Scalding blood gushed out from between the black fur, blinding the warrior's eyes.

With his throat bitten by him, the werewolf could not lower his head to look at his opponent. He could only raise his neck and use his claws to tear the warrior's armor even harder, making sure to expose the fragile body underneath as soon as possible so that it could be torn to pieces.

No one begged for mercy, and no one cared about their own lives anymore, they couldn't even see each other, but they were all competing to kill each other and vent their rage.

There was something pure about this sight that drew Clayton in, and he watched them intently, taking in every detail.

However, accidents always happen when a good show is going on. The mad wizard who was knocked down earlier actually regained consciousness at this moment. He climbed up, pointed at the werewolf riding on his companion with a distorted face, and a devil-like whisper came out from between his lips.

An invisible noose tightened around the beastman's neck, pulling its upper body backwards.

The red-haired warrior thus got a chance to catch his breath. He loosened his mouth that was tightly biting the opponent's throat. His face was covered in blood and he couldn't see anything clearly, but he still insisted on raising his fist and punching the enemy in front of him. The fist wearing an iron glove hit the werewolf's chest like a war hammer, forming a dent that no longer rebounded with a muffled sound.

But this was still not a serious injury. The werewolf ignored him and turned around to chase the crazy wizard with the key ball using his sense of smell.

"Hold it! Hold it!" Amid the sound of gunfire that echoed throughout the warehouse, the wizard in a sweater screamed continuously, his mental power bursting out without regard for the consequences, and thick blood flowed from his nostrils to his upper lip.

Dealing with cursed creatures is much more difficult than dealing with humans. The curse they carry is both a burden and a layer of protection.

The red-haired warrior pounced forward without hesitation, his iron boots making a scraping sound on the plank road woven with criss-crossed iron wires. He hugged the werewolf's waist and dragged him back, immediately slowing down the werewolf's forward momentum.

The werewolf dragged the burden forward step by step, desperately stretching its hairy arms towards the wizard, but the distance between them was too far, and the marks on its neck became deeper and deeper.
boo.

Like opening a beer bottle, the shapeshifter's head fell off its massive neck, blood gushing out like a fountain. The huge corpse stood there twitching for a moment before falling forward.

As it fell, the mad wizard also collapsed weakly, reaching into his pocket with trembling hands.

Casting spells of this intensity has overdrawn his abilities, and he needs more drugs to open the door that is closed to mediocrity.

The red-haired warrior leader was looking for clean cloth to clean the blood stains in front of his eyes. He had to quickly join in another battle.

Clayton looked downward again.

Konglione's werewolves were still executing wolf pack tactics, steadily and cautiously - the warehouse guards were equipped with silver bullets, and once they were shot, even if the bullets were removed in time, the healing time of the wounds would be delayed several times.

If the two werewolves that jumped down from above the warehouse could seize the commanding heights, they could really deal with all the guards here steadily.

But it’s hard to say now.

Clayton didn't intend to let either side win, so he decided to give his own people a little help first.

He walked to the red-haired supervisor who was still wiping his eyes, and suddenly reached out and pushed him down the stairs. Then he bent down to pick up the gun he dropped, and untied the gunpowder bottle and bullet bag on his belt. He returned and stomped hard on the neck of the crazy wizard who was lying on the ground and injecting medicine into his wrist, ending his life.

When the mad wizard died, Clayton skillfully loaded the fire and bullets, then stuck to the railing of the plank road and fired at a warehouse guard.
The massive firepower shattered the head, making it look like a melon falling from a tall building.

The gunshots covered up the sound of bodies falling to the ground, and the guards did not notice that one person was dead. Their attention was all focused on the remaining two werewolves. They heard the gunshots but did not see the enemies fall, and thought that the supervisor's shot missed.

"Someone help me!" The supervisor who fell to the first floor got up again, but he still couldn't see anything. The blood blurred his eyes.

The urgent order caused confusion among the surrounding guards, and several of them diverted their attention.

The werewolves did not miss this opportunity.

Two tall black shadows leaped up with all their might, howling wildly as they rushed into the breakthrough, each biting a human body and throwing it away, causing a bloody storm.

The backup generators had limited lighting, which forced the guards to gather near the light source, making it easier for the monsters to start the massacre.

Clayton reloaded his rifle and helped them kill another guard.

The view from the suspended plank road is very comprehensive, but he is the only one who can take advantage of it now.

When there were less than ten guards left, they collapsed immediately. They dropped their weapons and ran away, but were caught up from behind by two werewolves from Konglione and killed one by one.

The red-haired warrior leader was the last to die, and this time he had no helpers around him.

As Warehouse 96 fell into silence and a bloody atmosphere, the surviving creatures looked at each other.

They are all werewolves, what a coincidence.

Clayton casually threw away the heavy musket in his hand, jumped off the plank road, stood in the open space full of bloody corpses, and looked at the two killers who were chasing him.

They were now in werewolf form, requiring him to look up to see.

The two Black Claw werewolves had not yet recovered from the feeling of fighting. They panted and looked at each other, then lowered their bloody claws and slowly approached their target from the left and right.

Although they came here just for each other, they were still very puzzled by the other party's abnormal behavior.

At this moment, there was a sudden noise from the wreckage of the cargo box next to them, attracting all their attention. The werewolf who had crashed into it before slowly crawled out, blood all over its fur, and it looked seriously injured, but as soon as he opened his mouth, it was clear that he was the leader of this team of killers.

"Edwards, since you have gained the trust of the guards, why do you still want to save our lives?" it asked hoarsely, "Or is the name Edwards also a fake name, just like you told them your name is Lavine?"

Seeing that the seriously injured werewolf was about to stand up, the other two werewolves immediately gave up on Clayton and went over to help him up.

Clayton didn't answer his question, but took a deep breath first.

"Before we get to the next thing, I have to thank you for coming to see me."

Hearing his crazy words, the three werewolves from the Konglione family were stunned for a moment.