Hunting Lows of Werewolf

"Rusted Silver Coin" The copper-plated signboard hung on an iron pole outside the store swaying in the wind, making a squeaking sound from time to time in the evening breeze. But even so, there were only a few people who were willing to stop in front of the store all the day. This was the daily life of the antique store run by Clayton Bello. This place was located at No. 47 Lemon Street, Sasha City. The location was neither good nor bad, just like its business situation. Antique stores were not ordinary stores. Regular customers were Clayton’s main source of income. The Bello family once lived in a city farther south in Dorne, but after the death of his parents who valued family reunion, he had the final say where to settle. In the four years after he was discharged from the army, he used the 600 pounds of retirement pay from the army and the part of the inheritance left by his father to take over the store. The antique business was considered to be a field that was quite close to the upper class, and he had some talents. So he was better than Compared with those colleagues who set up stalls in the black streets, it is quite impressive. At this time, Clayton Bello was in the workshop on the second floor of the store. Wearing a mask and an apron, he bent over and used a long clamp to fish out five slightly faded medals from the turbid liquid in the bucket. The Loren War Medal of Honor was only awarded by the Dornish royal family to soldiers who participated in 5 or more battles in the Loren War. A total of more than 600 medals were issued which has extremely high commemorative value. Clayton had handled 24 pieces here - 23 of them were fake, and the only real one belonged to him. Even if antique dealers can't buy antiques, they must learn to make "antiques". "Mr. Bello, your guest is here." There was a notice from the female assistant outside the door. "I know， Miss Charlotte, you can get off work." Clayton used a sponge to carefully absorb the corrosive liquid on the fake medals, then wrapped them in silk and listed them on the workbench. Then he took off his apron, put on a black jacket and went downstairs to meet his guest. In the display cabinets on the first floor, enamel and crystal ornaments are shining under the illumination of electric lights. Hanging on the wall were expensive-looking swords, unsheathed, as if they would be ready to return to the battlefield in the next moment. The brown-haired young man waiting on the first floor was not interested in them. He just looked at the rusty exhibits in the display cabinet with his hands behind his back, and did not turn around until Clayton stood behind him. "Lieutenant, it's been a long time." Seeing this brown-haired young man in a white formal suit, Clayton stepped forward and gave him a hug: "Joe, I didn't expect you to come back. When I think about the last time we met, it was just like yesterday." Lieutenant was his rank in the army, and only the old guys would still call him that after he retired. They jointly participated in the Loren War in 163 and were comrades in the same company. After Joe·Mani retired from the army, he inherited the Rusted Silver Coin antique store from his parents. However, because he had the ideal of traveling around the world and was unwilling to operate such a fixed industry, he sold the store to Clayton. The two of them stood together, and the difference was apparent. Clayton's facial features were tougher, and he looked a head taller than Joe. The tawny eyes are intimidating. Seeing that the former commander still looked familiar, Joe was also a little bit surprised,"Me too. You are doing well. I feel at ease now. But I am here for a business." He took out a small box from his coat pocket and opened it. Lying on the goose-yellow soft velvet was a sterling silver ring. "The bishop's seal of the Holy White, a top quality product." When talking about business, Clayton immediately became serious. He did not take the box, but whispered: "This kind of treasure is indeed precious, but it is not easy to trade." The Holy White is not only the mainstream faith in the Kingdom of Dorne, but also the entire northern world. Even if its current status is not as prosperous as in the cold weapon era. "Don't worry, this is absolutely legal and no one will care." Joe couldn't help but push the box on Clayton's hand: "It was originally a collection of a foreign friend of mine, but his business has been sluggish recently, so he planned to sell these things to fill the financial gap. For the sake of friendship, I bought it. But I don’t have the hobby of collecting this piece, so I brought it to you.” Clayton reluctantly accepted the box: "How much did you pay for it?" "Three hundred gold pounds." It was actually quite a lot of money, but it was definitely not worth the price of a genuine bishop's seal. "Don't you know this friend of yours at the poker table?" "Haha..." Joe smiled awkwardly, blinked and refused to continue. But looking at the expression, it was obvious that he brought this thing back to Sasha just for convenience, and there was another reason that really made him come back. Clayton closed the box and stuffed it into his jacket pocket: "I won't say much this time. If you have any plans to leave Sasha City in the near future, I will send the money to your old house after I appraise the ring. " Joe had no objection to this, and then made a new proposal: "Then let's go to the Big Tree House for a drink at six o'clock tomorrow night, just like before?" Clayton had no objection either. After chatting for a while and seeing off his old comrades, Clayton went upstairs alone to clean the workshop, and finally turned off the switch. The light of the Rusty Silver Coins dimmed. He went out with a lantern and locked the door, then walked back to the rented tenement apartment. ............. Clayton Bello never finished college, He joined the army at the age of eighteen and served as a cavalryman in the Storm Guard of the Kingdom of Dorne for eleven years. When he joined the army, Line Infantry was still the mainstream method of war. By the time he retired, Skirmisher's Line Tactics had been relatively maturely incorporated into military regulations. Although thirty-three is still in his prime, Clayton feels like he is already an old man. Nothing interested him. His parents fell ill and died while he was serving, and he didn't have time to go back and take a look. His brother who joined the army together was hit in the heart by a stray bullet on another battlefield, and his close comrades were torn apart by shells in front of his eyes... Clayton gave more than eleven years of youth to the army. Time was just the lowest-valued commodity among the things he lost. The reason why he chose to be an antique dealer was because he hoped he could change himself under the influence of cultural relics and culture. After working for four years, he is still confused, but his counterfeiting skills are getting better and better... After dinner, Clayton walked into the room to take a nap. Joe's gifts gave him a headache. Even if things of Holy White were legal, it would be difficult to find a willing buyer. The religious art of the Holy White is so abundant that it has made people feel a little tired of aesthetics. Many people don't actually care whether antiques are genuine or not. The purpose of their collection is just to pursue that unique feeling. Regardless of whether this Ring Seal is authentic or fake, its simple appearance determines that the upper limit of its price will not be too high. If you want to use the background story to sell it for a good price, you have to find that kind of fanatical believer. But Clayton is not good at dealing with them. Clayton's parents were not religious, so neither was he. The only contact between the Bello family and the Holy White was when his brother kidn*pped a nun from the monastery as his wife, which made the clergy very hostile to his family. With such a family atmosphere, Clayton certainly doesn't like to have contact with Holy White. In addition, he also has some reasons of his own. ​But work is work. He took out the Ring Seal from his pocket and pointed the seal part towards himself. Two crossed tridents guard the spire at the top. The weapon signifies that it should be the property of the head of the agency in charge of the battle. Clayton recognized what it represented. The pattern of this seal belongs to the Heretic Tribunal that was abolished by the Holy White three hundred years ago. It is said to be a terrifying institution used to approve heretics, wizards and dark races. Even civilians may be hunted down by those warrior priests if they show any abnormality. Because too many unjust, false and wrong cases were made, various countries were dissatisfied. The Holy White eventually abolished the Heretic Tribunal, executed a number of priests who served in it, and refused to admit that those absurd and wanton behaviors were authorized by the Pope. This is what Joe means by legal. The Heretic Tribunal itself is not recognized by the Holy White, so of course this seal will not be held accountable by the Holy White, because even if it is genuine, it is "not" theirs. Clayton glanced at it and found that in the box containing the ring seal, there was a layer of square protrusions under the goose-yellow velvet cloth. He poured out the flannel, and a note fell on the table, which seemed to be left by the old owner of the seal. "It is rumored that the ring seals of the bishops of the Tribunal are protected by divine power. They can verify that the owner has not been replaced by a monster . Those who wear this ring will immediately appear in their original form." He glanced at the ring seal lying quietly on the table. Out of some curiosity, Clayton picked up the ring. Turn left and right to put it on the little finger of left hand. Ten seconds passed. Nothing happened. "Is it true ？ it's fake again? I'm so stupid!" Clayton frustratedly tried to take off the ring, but was unable to do so because his finger was too thick. He stood up and walked into the bathroom, intending to lubricate it with soapy water first. But at this moment, a severe burning sensation suddenly came from the part where the skin was in contact with the ring, spreading throughout the body like wildfire, and in less than half a second, the pain went straight to the brain. His torso expanded, splitting his clothes. Black hair like steel needles pierced from the pores all over the body. Even the areas not covered by hair were matte black. The originally quite burly body suddenly expanded by a quarter , and the limbs were exaggerated of muscle mass, but still slender, The snout was elongated, the ears became pointed and pulled back, the head transformed into a wolf shape, and the tawny eyes glowed in the dark. Looking down at the torn clothes that had fallen to the ground, the werewolf Clayton scratched his head with sharp nails. A much deeper voice came from wolf throat: "Amazing. It's the real thing!"