Werewolf Hunting Rules.

Chapter 494: Meetings Never Stop

"The army utilizes superhumans by organizing heavy infantry regiments, heavily armored and armed, who only charge after eliminating enemy artillery positions. If a soldier possesses exceptional eyesight, he is assigned to a rifle regiment to provide long-range fire support," the Bassbe security chief explained to those present. "As for conventional warfare, in the absence of artillery, shotgun shells are the most effective. As long as the gunner has the strength to control them, the propellant charge can be increased, effectively stopping the enemy's charge without silver bullets."

“We have shotgun shells and armor,” Pryd said. “One breastplate for each man, I’ve checked, otherwise more people would have died.”

"But you have more than that, and that's the problem."

The captain said coldly, "There are conflicts between supernatural powers. When most supernatural beings act on their own, the effect may not be as good as an army composed entirely of ordinary people. At least ordinary people will choose to stay with their comrades to maintain the formation out of fear, and will not run out to fight werewolves one-on-one."

Two such incidents occurred last night, with the same outcome: a negative impact on morale.

Disrupting the battle formation is more heinous than remaining stationary.

If we consider werewolves as highly mobile heavy cavalry, the situation becomes clear.

A solid infantry phalanx can definitely withstand cavalry, but if a gap appears, heavy cavalry can seize the opportunity to charge, and a rout is inevitable.

This is actually a very simple principle, but the decision-makers of the Friendship Society put the commanders and captains into the team with superhumans they personally knew. They do not trust superhuman societies that are too large, and only believe in what they can grasp in their own hands. In order to win the favor of these superhumans, they gave up these positions.

These individuals did indeed read military books about their country at the conscription committee, but the military books currently on the market were all written before the kingdom's last major war, making them completely outdated and failing to consider how superhumans and ordinary people could cooperate in combat.

"The only superhuman we have here who is familiar with battle formations is Daur from the Sarafafu Archery Association, but he was attacked last night. Although he didn't die, he lost an arm and is still unconscious. His students did not inherit his talents and can only continue to take on the security work within the East District."

The security chief deeply regretted this fact.

"We lost the first battle, and I think we must now find the missing soldiers, so that at least we can salvage our reputation and morale."

The missing militiamen were not eaten by werewolves, but were captured by demon worshippers and used as sacrifices.

If they were worshippers of Baal, there would be no need to save them now, but the Witchcraft Society—these strong men, handpicked by the Friendship Society—are mostly still alive.

"Ahem." An elderly gentleman coughed, tapping his cane on the table as he coughed, and the security supervisor stopped because of the noise.

“Sir,” the old gentleman’s voice was hoarse, carrying a hint of arrogance befitting his important position in the tax department, “we shouldn’t dwell on past mistakes, but rather look forward. If we waste our energy on things we cannot or cannot control, we will miss the truly important opportunities.”

“At least for now, I think the church’s attitude is more important than anything else.”

"While that plan failed to stop Conionnay, it might have another effect: creating a favorable environment for us. Has anyone heard about it yet? Can anyone tell me how much of an impact it has had?"

An official who also held a position in the church stood up. His servant had recently brought news: "About thirty civilians have died. The monsters were wiped out in the first half of the night, preventing us from expanding our gains. We still cannot determine who was responsible."

"The wizard Serbergan, whom we sent to take full charge of this matter, is also dead. His guards are missing. A witcher investigated the clues and claimed that there was only one enemy to deal with those monsters, and the footprints looked like those of a werewolf. There was a witness who saw the guy and secretly watched most of the battle from behind a window, but in his description, the guy's appearance did not quite match any of the recorded members of Conionai."

"Had witnessed the entire battle?" Some questioned whether this was a false testimony.

What kind of person would be so crazy as to not run away when they see werewolves and monsters fighting nearby?
“A desperate tabloid reporter,” the official said. “He made a bunch of sketches, wanting to publish them, but my people bribed him to hold onto them temporarily.”

“A wise choice,” his companion said. “It’s best to avoid mentioning werewolves, Conionne, or Bodalabic in the newspapers these days. Even the slightest hint could lead those fools to believe that the situation in Weodie is a choice. We can’t let them make that connection. All we need here is the Friendship Society.”

The official's face showed an expression of approval.

The elderly at the tax office, however, are concerned with the other aspect.

"Even if all of them combined, they can't beat him? How is that possible?"

When he raised the question, the old gentleman's tone was skeptical and disdainful; anything that conflicted with his understanding was met with contempt. However, he was not afraid; subconsciously, he still believed he had everything under control. Before the official could speak, Swies explained the problem.

“Those cursed monsters cannot fight at the same time. They are not originally from the same species, and once they go berserk, they will start killing each other.”

"Hmph—" The old gentleman still couldn't accept the answer, but he didn't say anything more to refute it.

Since the number of civilian casualties is so small, it will be difficult for the Friendship Association to take advantage of this.

Thirty people. The number of people who have frozen to death in the last two days may be more than that. Even if it is used to frame Conionne, the church will only think that they have been restrained enough.

In this situation, they would have to spend money to teach them how to help.

After some further discussion, they talked about the lost silver, the disappearance of Hazel, who was in charge of the guards, the prophetess of the Temple of Truth who had been given a doomed divination, the tragic death of Mr. Kumo of the Basby family in the street, and the sudden interruption of the club's recently started tennis matches.
They talked a lot, but no problems were solved. The solution to deal with Conionnai changed from gathering forces for a decisive battle to continuing to seek outside assistance, and quite a few people opposed this.

There aren't many people who truly hate the Darkin; for these pragmatists, being ruled by outsiders or by werewolves makes no difference.

"How do we explain what happened last night to the public?" The most crucial question has arisen.

Half of the people gave the same answer: "No explanation needed, I think we'd better not bring this up."

There are also many who refute this approach.

“But if we don’t explain, Conionai’s people will come and explain.”

“Let the cult spreading among the workers bear this infamy,” Swiest spoke up again. “Deal with them first. Even if we die, let’s not let these vultures and rats eat our flesh.”

No one objected, and the proposal was unanimously passed in silence.

Demon worshippers and cults are much easier to deal with than Conionnai, and eliminating them will also deplete the energy of our allies, making it a win-win situation.

With the most difficult issue passed, everyone in the council chamber breathed a sigh of relief.

"My vision is getting blurry. When will this end?" someone complained amidst the relief.

The old gentleman who had just stood up suggested, "Turn off the lights. Draw back the curtains, open the windows, let the room air out, and breathe in some fresh air. This will help you rejuvenate."

The official sitting by the window stood up, pulled back the thick cotton curtains, and pushed open the clean, new glass window. Sunlight and a gentle breeze blew in, and the beautiful nature made everyone, who had been feeling oppressed all night and morning, feel as if they had entered a paradise of warmth and ease.

But a strange object was slowly drifting in from the sky, forcing them to shift their attention to it.

A huge pink oval floated in the air, taller than their floor, with a green lion standing upright on one end.

People who had been staying up late by the window squinted, trying hard to make out the pink flying oval shape. They actually did it, and even saw some words written on the strange thing, which someone read aloud.

"Give a little electricity, and you'll reap a great harvest of light."

"What the hell is this thing? Who bought this thing?" the old gentleman who had just been directing the crowd asked in surprise, but no one answered him.

Only a handful of people recognized the origin of this object and were extremely nervous about it.

This is a commercial airship owned by the elders' council of Sasha.