Chapter 153 Heavy Bleeding

Clayton and Julius soon got the opportunity they wanted.

Danny looked very uncomfortable when he saw them, obviously not expecting that these two people were still waiting for him outside.

No one would usually refuse a request from a big man about six and a half feet tall, especially when he was firmly blocking the way - Danny stopped helplessly and stood between Clayton and Julius, He compromised.

"That man has a hooked nose and long ocher hair that falls just above his shoulders. He looks to be about 20 or 30 years old. Are you living in a hotel now? The boss, Little Pei Lun, has met him before."

"Great, thank you for your cooperation." Clayton moved away from Danny's path.

"I wish you a happy life." Julius waved to him.

The jeweler's son waved reluctantly, as if he didn't want to see them again.

After walking out of sight, Clayton suddenly spoke to Julius: "He's scared."

The wizard didn't take it seriously: "Of course, your werewolf characteristics are becoming more and more obvious, and ordinary people will obviously be afraid."

His attitude made Clayton feel that he might be too worried, so he stopped talking.

When the two strangers returned to the hotel, they saw Pei Lun shoveling snow at the door.

There are also some outdoor long tables and chairs outside the hotel for guests to rest, but it is still broad daylight and no one else is here except them.

Clayton repeated what Danny said about the foreigner's appearance to little Peron. The latter thought for a moment, but shook his head.

"I don't remember very clearly. There were too many outsiders who came to the town last month. There were traveling circuses and witches, as well as some people looking for work. They made a lot of trouble after drinking, and then they Then left. Later, a group of priests and officials from the health bureau came to investigate the health situation in the town, as well as soldiers who stayed with them. They stayed here for a while and took away some sick people. Those who are comfortable go to the city for treatment.”

He calculated that he had seen forty or fifty foreigners last month, and most of them had been to the card table. He couldn't remember anyone gambling with Danny, only that Danny seemed to have gambled with him. Someone got into a fight and was injured, so he was depressed all the time.

As for the descriptions of his appearance—unfortunately, they were not remarkable enough to impress Peron.

Clayton frowned and continued to ask, "Has anyone died recently in this town?"

"Why are you asking this?" Pei Lun became alert.

The lieutenant took out the necklace.

"Do you remember it?"

Perun looked at it, then looked at Clayton, and he nodded: "Of course, you asked me the night you came."

"When we received it it was covered in blood so we were worried its owner had been injured."

Creighton distorted some facts, expressed his concerns in euphemistic terms, and finally added: "We just went to Mr. Lawrence's house and have determined that he made this necklace, but neither he nor Mr. Danny We couldn't contact the buyer. Mr. Danny only remembered that he played cards with that person in the hotel, so we came to find you."

Pei Lun's face turned pale.

It doesn't sound like you're doing anything bad, by any means.

But unfortunately, he still couldn't help.

"If you really want to know who that necklace belongs to, you might as well ask the priests and priests in the church."

"Because they hang out so closely with women?" Julius interjected.

Pei Lun re-examined this person and determined that this person's thoughts were more bizarre than his hairstyle.

"No, it's because the window of the confessional is so low that the clergy can only see the penitent's chest. If they had seen this necklace, they would have been deeply impressed."

There were not many people in the town, and the clergy held services every week, so he could recognize almost everyone over the years. Setting the confessional window low is actually of no use to them, it just makes the penitent feel better.

Churches in small places are like this.

Clayton thought this was a good suggestion and decided to go in the afternoon.

There was still an hour before noon, and they still had enough time to rest and have lunch at the hotel, just in time to wait for the results of Ian's investigation.

He thanked little Perun, then went inside and went upstairs.

Julius followed him, and the two of them made the old stairs creak.

"With any luck, we can find out who the original owner of the necklace is today." The lieutenant said optimistically. He was not light in weight, and the wooden board groaned violently under his feet. It wasn't until he walked up to the second floor that he restrained himself.

"Since you say so, it definitely won't work."

The lieutenant is clearly not in the "lucky" category now.

Clayton was walking towards his room holding on to the railing next to him, and when he heard Julius's words, he smacked his head angrily.

The force of this slap was not very strong, but the railings and several connected floors at the lower end tilted outwards suddenly, including the one under Clayton's feet. His heavy body also tilted outwards as the floor sank.

The long horizontal beams have been exposed to wind and sun for a long time and are no longer so strong.

Under the force of the external force, it broke under the load, and Clayton fell directly through the breach.

Julius's reaction was not timely enough and he could only watch him disappear through the gap in the railing.

The heavy body wrapped in a black coat hit the ground like a stone, which was covered with rough snow that Pei Lun had not yet cleared. The collision between the two made almost no sound, but anyone with experience knew how tragic it was. Throw.

"Seven hells!"

Perun threw away the shovel and ran over with a cry, but before he could reach out to help him, Clayton had already stood up. He refused Perun's help and stood like a javelin, with his head full of gray for him to see. Going up is more mature.

"Everything is fine with me. It's just that your hotel needs to be repaired."

"You don't have to worry, he's very strong." Julius also shouted from upstairs.

Pei Lun breathed a sigh of relief when he learned that there was nothing wrong with his guest - at least he was not willing to blame it on himself.

He looked up at the broken part of the railing, which was in front of the third door of the room on the second floor, and couldn't help but lament.

"That's true. Mr. Kuok must have ruined it."

Clayton had never heard of this name before, but he knew that the room Perun was looking at belonged to the painter Chude's entourage, so he immediately connected the two.

This is a bit strange, he himself doesn't look too light, but Pei Lun never seems to worry about him crushing anything.

How fat is that Mr. Quaker?

At this moment, the door was suddenly pushed open, and a very tall man came out and looked around. Clayton looked at him in surprise. Even standing on the first floor, the lieutenant could feel that the other person's posture was unusual.

He is only slightly taller than an average person, but his body is extremely stocky and plump, and he can squeeze out of the door frame. The woolen dress on him looked like someone had decided to keep potatoes warm on a whim, and on that plate-like face, a pair of beetle-like black eyes were round and bright, but they hardly gave off the impression of intelligence. Looking further down, the fleshy nose and lips appear small compared to the face, adding a bit of childishness to the man.

Clayton showed a polite smile, but Kuok ignored it. After seeing clearly what happened outside, he closed the door again.

Clayton returned to his room. He no longer suppressed the pain, his pupils dilated again, and blood-red liquid overflowed from the corners of his mouth again.

He took off his shirt, and his muscular pale body was hot and swollen in places due to internal bleeding.

Clayton tremblingly touched the table knife from the table, walked to the empty wastebasket in the room, half-knelt down, and stabbed the abnormally bulging part hard, and thick blood spurted out along the blade. , the color quickly flooded the bottom of the empty barrel, but also fell a little on the floor.

The shock of falling from the second floor penetrated deep into his abdomen, causing the alien flesh and blood to rub against the native flesh and blood again. The pain caused him immense suffering, but it did not kill him.

Heartbreaking pain came like a tide from the parts where the alien flesh and blood grew, causing his muscles to spasm.

The water level in the barrel gradually rose until it reached one-third of its height.

After bleeding himself, Clayton sat on the edge of the bed and leaned against the wall, quietly waiting for the pain to go away.

The wound healed quickly, leaving only a red scar, but weakness followed, and it became more and more arrogant, even suppressing the werewolf's violent instinct.

Clayton was determined to perform a binding ritual to resolve the matter.

On the way to Gevaux that day, he asked Julius about the curse. Although the green-haired mage is a human, he is deeply influenced by the Presbyterian Church and knows far more information about the dark descendants than he does, including the ritual of curse.

Julius made no secret of this.

As the main way for dark people to seek transcendent power, the ritual of binding is not complicated, but it needs to be used with extreme caution.

Here we have to explain a premise, dark descendant is a very general term.

It is not the existences inspired by the dark moon that are called dark descendants, but the existences that cannot inherit the great power of the sun are uniformly called dark descendants. Wizards and some special extraordinary creatures are not actually dark descendants. They can accept the White Religion. He was given the same name as a heretic just because he believed in paganism.

In general, excluding the general pagans recognized by the White Sect, the dark descendants who have been cursed and alienated from body to spirit are divided into three categories according to their source of power and lifestyle.

The dependents of the moon, the dependents of nature and the dependents of the void.

Of course, their differences are sometimes not very clear.

In the popular sense, "dark descendants" generally refer to the descendants of the moon. They are also the most widely distributed and are the main audience for the curse ceremony.

The werewolves that Clayton belongs to are pure dark descendants inspired by the dark moon. They have the most distinctive characteristics of the moon's descendants. Curse is their main source of power and the source of life.

The curse is the way to absorb the excess curse into the body to gain power.

Under the joint induction of spirit and body, the dark descendant traces his bloodline and guides the power of the curse that his deceased ancestors once carried into his body.

Because the origin of the bloodline is closely related to these curses, their descendants inherit the same resistance while inheriting the bloodline, so they can bear a larger share and receive part of the information buried deep in the curse.

But infusing a large amount of curses through rituals skips the cumulative steps, and the risk of losing control is greater.

Especially for groups like werewolves who rely more on instinct, before they perform the curse ritual, the cursed person must be fully prepared, otherwise it is easy to be addicted to the remaining hunting memories of the ancient ancestors and cannot extricate themselves.

The amount of curse absorbed by the binding ritual cannot be adjusted, but it is generally the cursed person's share of natural efficiency for five to ten years.

Clayton wanted to completely eliminate the mark left by the Spider Priest on himself. The large amount of werewolf curses brought by the curse would drive away the alien curse at once, making him no longer weak. As for the place where the curse ceremony was held, he already had an option.

Clayton sat by the bed for a while, took a breath, and then went down to drag out the brazier under the bed and ignited the fuel inside with a flint lighter.

The bloodletting process also took away some of the temperature, and he felt a little cold now.

Clayton casually grabbed the coat he took off and wrapped it around his waist, intending to lie on the bed for a while, but the warm flames made his nose get rid of the cold air, and his sense of smell returned to normal.

This made him immediately smell the fresh smell of another person in his bed.

After noticing this strange smell, Clayton immediately stood up again and walked to the corner of the room near the window to sniff. The axe placed there also had the same smell.

Someone had turned over his room.