The Villain Saint is my secondary account

"That's why I ultimately chose to become a private investigator."

Ford then suddenly looked at Ella beside him and said in a low voice, "I hate magic. Its existence is a devastating blow to rigorous reasoning."

"Pfft, then perhaps in your future deductions, Detective, you could consider studying magic as a discipline as well."

Ella covered her mouth and chuckled softly.

"That was too torturous, pure torture."

Ford looked sullen.

As the two were whispering to each other, Greg suddenly changed the subject, saying, "Enough of this small talk, Inspector. I'm afraid I need to talk about something serious now."

This caused everyone in the room to stop what they were doing and hold their breath to listen to the sound coming from the conch shell.

"I think I mentioned beforehand that this is a little game I'm playing with your Royal Canadian Mounted Police."

"But... you invited people who weren't even in the police department to participate, which made it easy for you to pass the first game."

"That's wrong because you've broken the rules of the game."

"But don't worry, I'm very open-minded. I'll allow your friend to continue participating in our little games as a member of the police station."

"However, the police station should also be punished for this."

"So, let's begin our punishment game!"

"You piece of shit, what are you up to now!"

Greg roared.

“Oh, I know you’re in a hurry, Detective, but it’s just a phonograph conch shell. There’s no point in cursing it.”

"As for the specific punishment... Shh—listen carefully?"

"what!!!"

A scream abruptly shattered the silence in the office, and everyone turned to look at the source of the sound. A quick-thinking detective shouted, "The lobby! It's coming from the waiting area outside!"

Greg immediately rushed out of the office. The lobby, which had been blocked off and questioned earlier, was now crowded with citizens who had come to return the gold coins.

With so many people, if something were to happen... Greg felt his head buzz, as if it were about to explode.

When he rushed into the hall, he saw a group of citizens fleeing in panic toward the corridor where he was.

He struggled against the flow of people and finally saw a man squatting on a row of waiting chairs in the far corner, his hands covering his head, his face contorted in pain as he roared.

"Sir!? Sir, what's wrong!?"

The young detectives around him were pointing their revolvers at the crazed citizen. Greg mustered his courage and stepped forward, about to ask him something, when the man suddenly raised his head and pounced on Greg like a raging beast.

"bang bang bang"

Immediately, a series of musket shots echoed through the hall, and the dense flashes of fire turned the frenzied citizens into sieves.

Blood, like blooming lotus flowers, instantly splattered across a corner of the hall. Some panicked citizens screamed, while others covered their eyes, unable to bear the sight of the bloody scene.

"What the hell?! Who gave you permission to fire?!"

Greg's eyes widened, and he grabbed the trembling young detective beside him. He hadn't even given the order, so why were they firing?!

"This...I..."

The young detective trembled. In recent years, since the signing of the peace treaty, the security situation in Chongqing has been relatively good, except for the last few months. Many young detectives who have just joined the police station do not yet have sufficient practical experience.

The crazed citizen's bloodshot eyes and distorted face were truly terrifying. Among these young detectives, apart from a few newly recruited player detectives who had experience fighting monsters in the wilderness and were able to remain calm, the rest were local recruits with pale faces.

But before everyone at the scene could recover, the body on the ground, riddled with bullets, suddenly trembled.

This faint tremor instantly tightened the nerves of all the detectives again. They saw that the corpse's limbs were slowly growing blackish-gray curly hair, and the head, which was hanging on the floor like mud, was also gradually lengthening as it trembled, as if the bones inside were undergoing a strange twisting.

"Fire! Fire!"

Greg quickly gave the order; if he had just regarded it as a crazed citizen, now it was a complete monster.

But amidst the crackling, dense flames, the corpse actually stood up slowly. Its distorted, hairy face was no longer human; it had become deformed and elongated, with its jagged fangs gleaming coldly.

"A werewolf...!?"

Greg's eyes widened. "How could something like this appear here?!"

Ella, who was watching from the crowd, also frowned. This thing was different from ordinary green-skinned orcs; it belonged to the same race as vampires, which were of the golden bloodline.

Adult werewolves are so resilient that they are almost impossible to kill without special means; the detectives' small muskets are like tickles to them.

Fortunately, the two Templars beside her were experts in dealing with chaotic races, so she didn't even need to lift a finger.

Just as Ella was about to order Orfindo to make a move, Detective Ford suddenly raised his hand to block Orfindo.

Chapter 126 The First Witcher

"Mr. Ford?"

Ella asked in confusion, but after seeing Ford's eyes, she instantly understood.

It's because of that conch shell.

Ford had previously helped Greg deduce the location of the bomb in the industrial area, but this was seen as a violation of the rules, leading to the current situation.

The original words in the conch shell, "allowing 'this friend' from the Royal Canadian Mounted Police to join the game," clearly refer only to Ford.

If Ella intervenes, she will likely be seen as breaking the rules a second time.

“I understand what you mean, but… for that kind of evil person, whether the rules are rules or not, it’s all up to him to decide.”

Ella said softly, "Isn't dealing with the current situation the most important thing?"

Werewolves are not something that ordinary adventurers or detectives with small muskets can handle. If there are no countermeasures, even master-level swordsmen and mages are no match for these creatures in their adult form.

“I understand, madam,”

Ford replied, “I will find the loopholes in that guy’s plot and tear his schemes apart. But not now. I have a feeling that if you take action, you will fall into his trap.”

Ella frowned slightly. She understood that Ford meant well, but given the current situation, if she didn't let Orfindo and the others take action, the werewolves would kill everyone present.

The gunshot wound the werewolf had before his transformation was almost completely healed; Greg and the other detectives' mounted archery could no longer even penetrate his thick skin.

“I understand your concerns, madam,”

Ford calmly replied, "But rest assured, the Royal Malaysian Police's foundation is actually much stronger than you imagine."

"What the hell..."

However, Greg was already covered in sweat, and he had run out of ammunition. His opponent even seemed to be in better shape than before.

He was an expert musketeer, after all, and every shot he fired was aimed precisely at the werewolf's vital points, yet he couldn't even break the skin.

This thing is just too incredible.

By this time, the werewolf's old wounds had all healed, and apart from the tattered rags hanging on his body that proved he had once been human, his hairy body had no other human characteristics.

He lay on all fours, his eerie green eyes fixed on Gregor's large, round body, as if eyeing a piece of fat on a chopping board.

Greg was panting heavily, but he knew he was the highest-ranking detective in the hall, with citizens and other young detectives behind him. If he backed down, the entire hall would be bloodied by the monster before him.

So even though his legs were trembling, he still raised his musket and aimed it at the werewolf's terrifying head.

The next second, the werewolf let out a bloodthirsty roar, and its huge, dark gray body rushed towards Greg like a bolt of lightning.

Greg gritted his teeth and pulled the trigger. A flash of light rang out, and the lead bullet, trailing a fiery tail, traced a straight line, heading precisely for the werewolf's right eye.

However, the opponent simply closed his right eye quickly, and the bullet grazed his thick eyelid as if it had struck steel, shattering into dazzling sparks.

The color drained from Greg's face instantly, and his sharp claws tore through the air, heading straight for his neck.

But the next moment a figure suddenly rushed out from beside him, and a punch, like a cannonball, smashed into the werewolf's face.

The surface, which even a dozen muskets couldn't penetrate, was instantly torn open by a single heavy punch.

The werewolf flew backward as if it had hit a truck, smashing several rows of wooden chairs to pieces.

"Thank you for your hard work, but it's better to leave these kinds of things to the professionals in the future."

Van Helsing, a somewhat unkempt man wearing a cowboy hat, patted Greg on the shoulder and then slowly walked out from beside him.

On his right hand, clenched into a fist, a silver knuckle duster covered in enchanted patterns gleamed with crimson blood under the gaslight.

"By the God of Light, you should come earlier next time!"

Greg, panting heavily, retreated into the crowd at the back.

"Oh? Good evening, ma'am, it's surprising to see you here too."

Van Hessin suddenly noticed Ella beside him, so he turned his gaze away from the werewolf, took off his hat, and bowed to Ella.

"good evening."

Ella nodded gracefully in acknowledgment.

"Damn...humans..."

The werewolf finally recovered and got up from the ground. He covered his head, which was about to crack from the beating, and was still able to grit his teeth and make a sound.

Van Helsing pulled his hat back over his head, covering the top of his hair that drooped like seaweed on both sides of his face, and turned his gaze back to the werewolf, which became somewhat fierce.

"Mr. Greg, is this Mr. Van Helsing very good at dealing with monsters?"

Seeing that Greg had retreated to her side, Ella asked curiously.

"Hmm, maybe. He seems to be an expert in this area, but actually I don't know much about it either. The Magic Defense Department is quite mysterious to us..."

"To be more precise, he is Valen's top witcher, without a doubt."

Ford suddenly added, "I heard that the vampires originally had thirteen clans, but now only three clans remain in Fog City because he killed all the clan leaders of the remaining clans."

"real or fake?"

Greg turned his head. "I had no idea this happened."

"I only heard about it from my brother, and well, it might be exaggerated."

Ford smiled.

Is it that terrifying? This Van Hessin… Ella’s deep red eyes narrowed slightly. Because the other party was not a swordsman, she couldn’t quite tell what level of strength he was at.

However, the vampire patriarch... seems to be second only to that legendary vampire queen. Based on Ella's experiences in her previous life, he is at least comparable to a grandmaster or even a transcendent mage among the human race.

Of course, there is a huge gap between the vampire queen and the clan leader. Even if all thirteen clans were united, they would not be a match for the queen.

As Ella pondered, the werewolf roared and charged at Van Hessing once more.

But the Witcher, with his calm and collected expression, simply grabbed the beast by the throat, threw it to the ground like a chick, and then delivered a punch.

"boom"

A muffled thud accompanied by a splatter of blood from the werewolf's forehead, and the solid marble floor cracked like a spiderweb from the impact of the punch through the werewolf's skull.

The werewolf, who had just been like an immortal war god, was now a pitiful punching bag, limp and wandering on the floor like a helpless drowning dog.

But when Hessin saw that the other person was still moving, his instinct from years of hunting monsters made him raise his fist again, until Gregor's shout came from the crowd, "That's enough! Don't kill him, he's an important suspect and we still need to question him!"

Van Helsing paused for a moment, then withdrew his hand, stood up, and straightened his collar. "Oh, sorry, I forgot we were on a case."

Chapter 127 Stealth of Malice

At this moment, in the night sky outside the Royal Police Station, on the rooftop of a building next to a street, a short girl wearing a dark purple cloak sat looking down at the chaotic Royal Police Station below.

"Tsk."

She pursed her lips, her gaze seemingly piercing through the thick concrete walls of the police station, reaching directly into the scene inside the lobby.

"Why did he still manage to get here, Van Helsing?"

The girl pouted, her long, slender legs, clad in black stockings, dangling over the eaves. Her light, airy body made it seem as if a gust of wind would send her tumbling down.

Embroidered on her cloak was a greyish-white crescent moon, its convex arc pointing diagonally upwards.

Beside her was a girl of similar build, but unlike her, who sat unreservedly on the edge of the roof, she stood to the side with her arms crossed and a cold expression.

"There's nothing we can do; it's just as Father predicted."

The girl's voice was as calm and indifferent as her expression, like a small glacier standing to the side. Her dark purple cloak also had a crescent moon pattern, but unlike the others, its curve faced diagonally downwards.

"Couldn't we have sent someone to stop it? We knew all along, yet our plans were still ruined. It makes us look so useless."