Werewolf Hunting Rules.

Chapter 442 Nightingale

A few hours ago, just after Kong Lione's killer team left the police station, Albert had just breathed a sigh of relief when he saw Nightingale reappear at the door of the office.

“You just handed over the confidential documents and the child to someone else?” Even when questioning, Mhlanga’s voice was as calm as a pool of stagnant water. His attitude was more numb than before, as numb as his scarred skin.

Albert stood up, bewildered.

Looking back on his life, there has probably never been a more embarrassing moment than this.

"You were still watching me after you left?"

"What else? Am I going to trust a stranger I met for the first time?"

"I thought you knew him. He was the green-haired companion." The sheriff explained. "He had black hair and yellow eyes. Maybe you have an impression of him."

"companion?"

Mhlanga chewed on the word: "You are mistaken, and you haven't seen the man I mentioned yet, how do you know he is the man's companion."

"I think I should have seen them. There shouldn't be many people with green hair in this world. I have only seen one in my life, not long ago, with that Mr. Bello. In addition to being the companion of the green-haired man, to be honest, Mr. Bello is a more capable person than me, so I privately decided to leave this matter to him to deal with."

The one-armed Nightingale snorted, "I'll take this as true, but what about that child? Don't tell me they know him too."

The sheriff raised his right hand awkwardly and wiped his forehead with the back of his hand:

“They really know each other.”

Nightingale looked almost speechless.

"If you can't do anything else, just do your job."

Albert's face flushed red, and he stood there to see him off.

After leaving the police station, Mhlanga headed straight for the Basbay Building. The child was not the point. He was going to meet Julius' companion - maybe.

Indeed, Julius is the son of Grogne, and he might be accompanied by a guard, or he might have a local from Weiodi as a guide, and Mhlanga has not seen many people with green hair, so Albert's judgment is most likely correct.

But Julius was invited by Basbe after all, so this "companion" probably didn't play any role.

Even worse, it is unclear whether he is an enemy or a friend.

So he had to go and see.

It wasn’t long before Mhlanga met Clayton Bello himself in front of the Basbay Building.

This man was indeed as useful as Sheriff Albert thought. He started the fire to rescue Julius, and left the child in the hotel. He seemed very reliable.

It wasn't until he saw Julius put the letter in the mailbox that Mhlanga finally felt relieved.

He walked alone on the streets of the West Side at eight o'clock in the evening, avoiding places where there were gunshots and wailing like other passers-by going home, but there were more horse-drawn carriages on the street than usual, which blocked the street, and it took him longer to get back to the train station in the South Side.

Weiodi is like other big cities in Dorne, filled with black, the black of smoke, the black of steel, the black of clothes. Even the rich people in the East District would change into black clothes for fear of staining their clothes with the smoke and dust outside. Only near the South District station where foreign population continued to pour in could there be more colors.

Many hotels and restaurants have installed electric light tubes outside their doors so that passengers who have just got off the bus can see their colorful signs. During this time period, there are still many people coming and going under these lights. Even though some people's expressions look like they are heartbroken, this area as a whole still looks brighter and more lively than other places.

Mhlanga stopped a short distance away from the station and took a deep breath, as if to take in all the feelings in his heart.

Inside his body, the demon who worships perfection took a deep breath with him, savoring the rich and colorful human hearts here.

The followers of "Cervantes the Perfect" are more easily accepted by the world than other demons because they have the ability to see through "errors". His existence has always been regarded as a synonym for success. Among the many great men throughout history, quite a few of them have signed contracts with him to achieve achievements that ordinary people cannot achieve. None of them have the tyranny and uncontrollability of other demon possessors.

On the contrary, the followers of the Perfect One are extremely normal. They elevate themselves in the process of utilizing the power of demons. Among those who are confirmed to be the followers of this demon lord, they all behave properly and elegantly, more like aristocrats than any nobles. At the same time, they are not lacking in courage and perseverance. They are simply perfect human beings.

When talking about other demon lords, people's first reaction is fear. But if it is Cervantes, the audience will only complain about why they are not that lucky one.

He would probably have been considered a true god or archangel if one of his descendants had not had the urge to tell those who were able to observe him about the identity of his father, and bluntly stated that there would be a price for the good change.

Mhlanga was favored by the Demon Lord when he was six years old. For no reason, he suddenly heard that voice in his mind. It sounded like his own voice, but it said things he didn't know, teaching him how to achieve his goals and become a more perfect self.

With the help of the devil, he successfully left the workhouse and was accepted as a member of the Brotherhood of Sincerity.

While in the eyes of some people the situation may have worsened, Mhlanga has found peace of mind in the Brotherhood of Sincerity.

He came into contact with a higher class, had his own beliefs, and was able to directly exert power to change things, which made him satisfied.

Perhaps his expectations of himself were too low, and his "perfection" stopped here. This is a pity, and the Sincere Brotherhood has higher hopes for him.

The mentor who raised him and the kind church members who wanted him to be a big shot, but the Brotherhood of the Most Sincere had no way out within the church and could only get a chance for promotion as a member of the royal family.

So Mhlanga joined the Nightingales.

In this new environment, his desire to move forward was awakened again.

Perhaps a broken hand forced him to retire from the front line, but after that, it was not as if Mhlanga had nothing else to do.

Since the Loren War, this country has begun to value experienced old people, and government departments no longer easily dismiss specialists like him. He can still work as an instructor in the Kingdom Intelligence Department, or do some other job that does not require both hands, and he still has a chance to succeed.

With a grateful mood, Mhlanga walked slowly towards the brightly lit train station nearby. Passenger trains had stopped operating at this time, but he could spend the night in the waiting hall, which many people did.

When he walked into the waiting hall full of waiting people, a tall man was arguing with the station staff because the staff wanted to kick the man out.

"You have been here all afternoon, from day to night, without getting on the bus, and you couldn't be waiting for anyone. You have been standing in the crowd looking around, which makes others feel uneasy. Sir, with all due respect, this behavior is very much like a thief."

The man was furious: "You bastard! How dare you compare me to a thief!"

The staff had seen a lot of drunks and hooligans like this and were not afraid at all: "Whatever you say, but since you don't have a good reason, I have to ask you to leave now."

The man turned his head and looked around, as if he was looking for someone who could support him, but he didn't find anyone, so he pointed his index finger at the staff member's forehead.

"We will meet again. You should know how to adjust your attitude next time you see me, but I will be as resolute as you are today."

He said this before striding angrily towards the exit, towards Mhlanga.

Nightingale noticed his face.

Black hair, green eyes, and the dilated pupil in the center of the eye.

The Conriones have lived openly near Weiodi for too long, relying on their aristocratic privileges. The people who have lived here for generations have become accustomed to these inhuman features. They regard them as the peculiarity of this race rather than as manifestations of disease or weirdness. Even if outsiders are curious, they will simply think they are ignorant when they see the locals are not surprised by them.

As Mhlanga was sizing up the werewolf, the werewolf also noticed him, stopped beside him, and sniffed suspiciously.

"Have we met before?"

“I don’t think so,” Mhlanga said.

Kong Lione pretended not to hear it, but narrowed his eyes: "Humph, I see, you've been to the North District recently, right? With that damn beast."

Knowing that he couldn't hide from the werewolves who were good at tracking, Mhlanga simply relented.

"I did go to the North District, but I think my affairs have nothing to do with you."

The werewolf sneered: "It has nothing to do with us - are people from the Brotherhood of Sincerity qualified to say such things?"

Mhlanga's attire was clear at a glance. Only the ascetics of the Brotherhood of the Most Sincere would expose their wounds openly, because that was the source of their strength. Covering the wounds with clothes would make them weak.

Seeing the werewolf speaking regardless of the occasion, Mhlanga sighed, his pupils trembling slightly, and the deep black color spread imperceptibly.

"I did go to the North District, but I only stayed in one place for a long time, and the smell has not dissipated there. Conrionai must have discovered the house in the North District. The others lost contact there, but it was not Conrionai's fault, otherwise it would not be so angry. Maybe something else happened there."

"I won't get any benefit if I go back like this. I have to find a way to add a few more entries to my resume. There's no harm in staying for the time being. As long as I don't get too close to the East District, the guards won't be able to catch me."

"The Sacred Heart Fraternity and Conrionay are about to fall out, but there seems to be other forces involved. I should find out what's going on."

"The 'beast' it mentioned may be an important clue. This werewolf is arrogant and reckless. I can guide it to tell me this matter."

"The common enemy is a timeless topic, and it will trust me."

Mhlanga's own voice suddenly sounded in his mind, speaking in a calm tone, as if he was reading a book. If he had not never thought about it in such detail, he might have really thought that this was his own idea.

Mhlanga paused, waiting for the voice to finish, then spoke in a reasonable tone in reality: "I just arrived in this city a week ago. I came to Wei'odi only because it is on my pilgrimage route, not to stay long, so I came to the station now. If you have any grudges against my local church members, please do so. If I have any sympathy for them, I will regret the rude treatment I have received in the past two days."

"Do you think you can fool me like this? I know what kind of person you are. The fewer companions you have, the more polite you should be, right?" The werewolf's expression was still angry, but there was a hint of hesitation in his tone.

"I dare say this is an astonishing misunderstanding." Mhlanga said sincerely, and then tilted his head to guide the other party to look at the approaching station staff. That guy was the protagonist of the quarrel just now. Seeing that Kong Lione had not left yet, he went to the duty room and got a short stick and came over.

Seeing him coming, the werewolf's upper lip turned up in disgust, revealing his canine teeth on both sides.

"Maybe we should go out and explain it clearly. I don't want anyone to hate me for no reason because of some other bastard. If it can clear my reputation, I would rather say a few more words. Anyway, we park at night and we have plenty of time." Mhlanga suggested to Konglione.