Werewolf Hunting Rules.

Chapter 523 Everyone Knows

A female teacher led Donna, who was teaching a class, out of the classroom, and they met on the lawn in front of the school building.

The girl wore a green school uniform skirt, her jet-black hair was tied up at the back of her head, looking like a matcha cake topped with a blueberry. Her charming rosy face had shed its childishness and gained a bit of composure. She seemed to have finally completely shed her childhood and become a proper lady. Even her walking posture had become well-behaved.

But upon closer inspection, the root of that calm demeanor seems to be a sense of listlessness.

“Donna?” Clayton asked tentatively.

Donna approached, scrutinizing her uncle with the same appraising gaze. The female teacher nodded to Clayton, turned, and left, leaving them alone, thus unaware of Donna's subsequent rude action.

She placed her hands on Clayton's ribs, then lowered her head and bumped it against Clayton's chest repeatedly.

If Clayton were to get a big hole in her chest as a result, he thought she would crawl right into it without hesitation.

Clayton

Donna's head remained pressed against his chest, her voice sounding like a cry from the depths of an abyss, giving Clayton the illusion that if he responded, he would be dragged down.

"The school wants to mold me into a cold, hard, and boring piece of iron. It hasn't succeeded yet, but who knows what will happen in the future."

"To forge people into steel." Clayton looked up at the teaching building to confirm that this was not a military academy, but he still held her and earnestly suggested, "If you really can't stand it here, then drop out."

Upon hearing his words, Donna immediately raised her head, broke free from his arm, and instantly regained her composure.

"No, let's forget about it," she said hurriedly.

Seeing this, Clayton's dark eyebrows relaxed to the sides: "Looks like you've made some good friends at school."

The little witch's eyes widened, her gaze so innocent it seemed she had come specifically to graze on the lawn.

"You can read minds?!"

“Don’t mistake everything for witchcraft. You only need a little life experience to figure this out.” Clayton wanted to ruffle her hair, but her hairstyle was a bit complicated and might not be easy to fix once messed up, so he gave up.

"Your performance just now was so realistic, I thought you were sick."

Donna stood in front of him and let out a smug hum. After she relaxed, a hint of genuine exhaustion appeared in her eyes.

She stared thoughtfully at Clayton's bearded cheeks, and just as he thought she was about to say something, she jumped up and kissed him on the forehead, then took two steps back.

“Clayton, I’m so glad you came to see me so quickly.”

“I brought you to school, so I need to know if you’re doing well,” Clayton said.

"Everything is fine. With Miss Alice and Miss Lant by my side, I can get used to everything, except for our housemaster." Donna's face darkened again at the mention of this person.

"What's up with her?"

"You'd be hard-pressed to find someone more detestable than her. The moment she gets a little power, she uses it all to make things difficult for people. Pleading and bribery are completely ineffective; she just loves seeing others suffer and thinks she's all righteous and incorruptible. We've all had enough of her."

Donna sighed and lowered her voice very politely, as if afraid that the conversation would be heard through the lawn and flowerbeds into the teaching building: "I actually suspect that she was deliberately placed in this position by the principal. Although teaching is tiring, the thought of having such a person in the dormitory makes everyone afraid to pretend to be sick and go back to the dormitory to slack off."

Clayton had met many such people and nodded in deep understanding.

"You simply can't believe it, just this morning, she accused me of being ill-mannered because my two stockings were pulled up at different heights. I was wearing a long skirt, and who in this world would run over and lift up my skirt just to see if my two stockings were pulled up at the same height? The person who would do that is the ill-mannered one."

"Another time, she lost her keys but then accused us of trying to kill her. She even stopped us in front of the dormitory and searched us one by one, making us freeze for an hour."

Donna's dissatisfaction with the dorm supervisor didn't stop there. She rambled on for five or six minutes before listing all of the supervisor's shortcomings, even including a story about several students teaming up to fight against him, before finally sighing.

The more she sighed, the better she looked; telling Clayton about these bad things made her feel much better.

However, after listening to these complaints, Clayton actually laughed.

He fiddled with his cane, looking as content as an old cat warming itself by a fireplace, which made Donna think he might not have heard what she said.

"Clayton?"

"Ah, I was just reminiscing. You'll definitely miss this time in the future."

Donna was utterly horrified by his remarks: "Just because of this damn dorm supervisor? No way!"

“No, you will.” Clayton’s gaze seemed to hold a sense of nostalgia. “The pain and frustration you experience here will become insignificant in the future. A spoonful of salt in a glass of water will make it bitter, but it has little effect on a river. When you become strong, these unpleasant experiences will no longer be a trauma in your memory, but rather the last downpour that ends the summer.”

Donna nodded slowly. She couldn't quite understand the feeling yet, but that didn't stop her from saying earnestly, "I understand. You have the talent to be a poet."

Clayton broke into a hearty laugh.

"But you still have to be careful, don't let her hurt you too much. Try to deal with her yourself first, and if you really can't stand it, then let me handle it. Adults have their ways."

"I will. Be careful out there too."

Clayton thought he had misheard and tilted his head slightly.

"I?"

"I can see it."

Donna became serious. She reached out and grabbed Clayton's wrist, tilting her head back earnestly, and said, "You used to have two contradictory things within you. Now they have changed. It's not like fire dries up water, or water extinguishes fire, but they are growing stronger in tandem. This is very dangerous."

Clayton wasn't nervous at all; her serious demeanor only made him happier: "Donna, you're talking like a witch from a traditional story right now."

Donna sighed again, her back hunched over. "Clayton, I am the witch from the traditional stories." "Thank you for your concern, but I know what I'm doing, child." Clayton hugged her and asked about Clara's current situation.

“Oh, Clara is doing wonderfully,” Donna said somewhat reluctantly, clearly unwilling to abandon the previous topic, but Clara was also an important one, and she quickly regained her composure. “There are no other wizards here, and no one can see her invisible form. She sometimes sneaks into the classroom to watch us have class and brings me the whale meat cans you bought, but I don’t know where she is now.”

"Then please give her my regards when you see her."

"Of course, but you should also take what I said seriously. Also, the school will be on holiday from the end of the month for two weeks. Will you be home next month? If you're not home, I won't go back."

“I won’t be going anywhere far for the next two months,” Clayton’s answer reassured Donna.

Clayton then relayed Tritice's concern, prompting her to think of some things to say to Tritice in her reply. He then mentioned Joseph, saying that Clayton was prepared to let the child stay at his home, and he hoped Donna wouldn't mind.

Donna had no objection to this; she only hoped that the child wouldn't be a boring, mediocre little idiot.

“He may be quiet, but he is by no means restless,” Clayton said of Joseph.

Donna was satisfied.

After resting at home for a night, Clayton planned to visit Sir Dess Jonrad in the afternoon to discuss the Dunson Bank robbery, but received an invitation after lunch.

The four elders were about to hold a banquet to celebrate a great victory.

Clayton hadn't heard of any victory, but after seeing Weirdos, he had some different ideas about his own development and needed some inspiration and help. This banquet would be beneficial to him; perhaps he could find some allies and friends.

In the evening, the carriages stopped in front of Elder Jonard's residence, the venue for the banquet. Many carriages were already there, and numerous gentlemen were queuing at the gatehouse to verify their invitations.

Des Joanrad was a titled nobleman with a grand entourage. His house was far more luxurious than Grosne's. On the way to see the elders, every room was lined with weapon racks, and a large number of game specimens were on display in the corridors.

Jonard made no attempt to conceal the extraordinary aspects; the heads of various mysterious creatures were displayed on the walls as trophies, drawing gasps of amazement from the guests. Clayton even saw Pan, whom he had hunted from Wonderland; its wheel-sized head, preserved and displayed in the most prominent spot in the hall, looked remarkably lifelike.

Elder Jonrad seemed to like it very much, and stood beneath it chatting with people.

If guests want to talk to him, they have to notice this thing and then chat with him about it.

When Clayton arrived, he hadn't made a sound yet, but Jonard had already spotted him.

Or perhaps it was Jonrad's body that discovered him.

Jazz twitched his shoulders, first turning his body halfway around, and then moving his head.

[Muscle memory], there is also a perceptual path, Clayton thought. Having gotten used to fighting, after seeing a strong person like Jonard, he unconsciously put Jonard in the position of an opponent and thought about him. The unintentional hostility he emanated was probably the reason why Jonard noticed his presence.

Upon seeing Clayton, the Jazz's eyes suddenly sharpened like a hawk's.

"Ah, isn't this our good hunter?"

He abandoned his original conversation partner and walked straight over in full view of everyone.

"You now have the potential to kill me." The old knight uttered these sharp words, yet his tone carried an air of admiration.

The guests present looked at Clayton with curiosity. Sir Dess Jonard was a member of the Kingdom's Death Squad, and it was rare to find someone who could receive such praise from him.

“I’m honored,” Clayton said.

"You will become very strong in the future, but unfortunately I probably won't live to see it."

The old knight stared into Clayton's eyes, his perception almost as sharp as a wizard's: "This trip to Weiody has changed you somewhat. I asked you some questions about desire before. Tell me, are your answers different now?"

“Things are different now,” Clayton said self-deprecatingly, leaning on his cane. “Maybe I’m not so good at being an ascetic.”

He once thought he could accept a simple, ordinary life. Maybe he could in the past, but he just can't now.

He has regained his mental vitality, mastered great power, and succumbing to mediocrity is no longer his desire.
“No one is born to be an ascetic, nor should anyone be an ascetic.” Elder Jonard approached him, examining his eyes. “Very good, Mr. Bellow, congratulations on truly becoming one of us. I can see that your eyes have changed.”

The elder turned his head, seemingly to explain to the guests.

“Look, this is the look in the eyes of consumers.”

There was thunderous applause.

Everyone present seemed to immediately grasp his great spirit; they smiled and raised their hands to applaud the werewolf.

They're just trying to curry favor with Elder Jonrad, Clayton thought, and it would be a little scary if these guests actually applauded for such a trivial matter.

Des Joan Lard was genuinely pleased with the change. He was the kind of person who believed that society was shaped by needs, a fact that Clayton knew from the first time they met. The old knight detested routine and routine, and Clayton's change was probably no different from a prodigal son returning home in his eyes.

Furthermore, there is no doubt that he very much wants to recruit Clayton.

“There’s something I need to clarify: the lost items from Dongsen Bank were not found, but the person who committed the act was killed by me.”

"It's enough that the thief is dead. What I want is for others to know about this, so that no one thinks we can take things as we please." Elder Jonard gestured for Clayton to move to another spot to talk, then pushed through the crowd.

"I've heard about what you did in Weaudi. You've brought us honor, and I think I should reward you in some way. Speaking of which, have you read the book I gave you?"

He was referring to "The Essential Swordsmanship of Master Flying Dragon Castle".

Clayton was unusually embarrassed when the topic turned to the gift he received in exchange for Pan's body came up.

"I can't understand."