Werewolf Hunting Rules.

Chapter 526 Taking from the People
After lunch, Clayton took Clara back to his study.

He hardly uses his bedroom anymore; his study is the only place where he works and rests as a human being.

Having finally made it home, Donna wanted to talk to him, so she followed him inside.

Clayton leaned back as soon as he got to his seat. He hadn't bothered with his hair and beard for a while; his long black hair had reached past his shoulders, and his beard hung down to his collarbone, both curling in clumps. Because of this curly hair characteristic of the Bello family, it looked even thicker than it actually was.

Like black sheep's wool, Donna thought.

Clara climbed onto the desk, skillfully pulled open a drawer, took out a small hammer, and forcefully tapped each of Clayton's outstretched fingers.

【Steel Bones and Iron Bones】This wrong path requires first damaging the practitioner's bones, and then absorbing other materials to strengthen themselves during the repair process.

Even though this alternative path is powerful and useful, very few people actually choose to study its secret techniques.

Because it really hurts.

Donna glanced at Clayton's twitching eyes and hesitated, wondering if she should start a conversation with him at this moment.

Fortunately, her uncle himself did not have this concern.

"Speak up, don't tell me you just came to visit an old man."

"I just want to chat."

Clayton raised the hand that wasn't busy being hit and pointed to the small bookshelf on the corner of the table: "If you don't have anything else to do, could you read me that book, 'The Laughing Kingfisher's Poetic Talks'? It's been here for half a year, but I still don't really know it."

Donna pulled out the book he wanted, opened it, and stopped after flipping through two pages.

"Ah, this is a collection of poems by a poet from Kasun!" she exclaimed with delight.

The kingdoms colonized the foreign lands of the New World by force, and they, in turn, swept through Dorne with their culture. Kassun, Maxley, Loren—anything bearing their label became fashionable.

Clayton smiled slightly through his beard: "I was going to have Clara read for me, but her little brain isn't working very well yet, and she can't recognize all the words."

“Clayton isn’t smart,” Clara muttered irritably, deliberately raising her voice so everyone could hear.

Clayton had to comfort her: "Don't be angry, darling. Being illiterate isn't all bad. At least you won't be fooled by written scams. Any scammer you can't see is as if they don't exist. How clean and beautiful this world is for you."

Clara didn't say anything, but she swung the hammer less forcefully.

Donna chuckled softly a few times, then straightened up and began reciting the poem in the style of a school professor.

The original text of these poems was in another language, and the translated versions did not conform to Donne's poetic standards, but the emotion was not limited by this detail. Using only a few simple words, the moving landscape of the Kasun was pieced together scene by scene under the pen of this outstanding poet.

The book wasn't long. When she finished reading the collection of poems and looked up, Clayton's gaze was fixed on the wall, past her. Even as Clara continued to tap his fingers, his body and eyes remained motionless.

"Clayton?"

Clayton blinked. "His hometown looks a lot like Bartnu."

"Really?" Donna didn't think so.

“Perhaps I’m mistaken,” Clayton said, without bringing it up again.

Seeing that he wasn't very interested, Donna suddenly remembered the new trick she had learned at school, a form of entertainment that her mother was unwilling to teach, but which she had become fascinated with as soon as she tried it.

"Clayton, wanna play cards?"

Clayton's hand stopped hurting and his heart stopped pounding.

There are three unshakable standards for cavalrymen: they must be fast riders, dance gracefully, and play cards well.

Clayton was a qualified hussar.

Although he suffered a major defeat at the poker table in Wei Aodi last month, he remains very confident in himself.

He didn't find it difficult to deal with even a novice.

Donna's dorm only has three people, so she only knows how to play cards with three people. Clayton also likes more lively card games, so they decided to team up with another player.

Butlers and servants weren't good partners for playing cards, and Clayton didn't want to do the dirty work of winning back his wages from them, but playing non-money-grabbing games with experienced players wasn't very interesting either.

They wanted to bring Julius over to join the fun, but the wizard was very resistant. He was following the fitness plan that Clayton had previously devised for him to enhance his masculinity in front of his mysterious lover and was unwilling to waste time playing cards.

Joseph is not suited to playing cards at this age; he is too young, and any form of entertainment could become addictive for him.

Finally, their gaze returned to Clara's head.

That evening, the servant who tried to come to the study to inform the Bello family of dinner was ruthlessly turned away. The cook, who had prepared six main courses, watched the dishes grow cold with a gloomy expression, but also hoped that it would be past nine o'clock soon, because according to custom, after nine o'clock, these untouched dishes would belong to the cooks and servants.

"I should have known better; this is cheating!"

In the study, Donna angrily slammed all the cards onto the table. Her eyes were bloodshot, as if she had just gone through a high-intensity mental struggle.

Opposite her, Clayton held a card fan in one hand and kept stroking his thick black beard with the other, his eyes not on the cards, as if wondering why he was sitting there.

No one expected this outcome—Clara, though without feet, could kick whomever she wanted at the card table. Beside them, Clara, the reigning champion who had just learned how to play cards that day, was also holding her cards. She was about to laugh, but seeing their reactions, she felt that winning was a bad thing. She bit her lip in grievance, tears welling up in her eyes.

“It’s not your fault, we made a stupid mistake,” Clayton said weakly.

They had just realized this: even among the most inept members of the authoritarian lord's retinue, Clara's ability to sense emotions was far beyond their reach. With such abilities, they were no match for her at the poker table.

Having just learned the rules, she was already able to compete with Clayton. By the thirteenth inning, even the Bello uncle and nephew's attempt to team up was futile.

Donna grabbed Clara and showered her with a barrage of kisses before putting her back on the table.

“Darling, I don’t mean to hate you, but we’re like the protagonists in that frog carrying a scorpion across the river. Kerry and I are the frogs, and you’re the scorpion. That’s just nature, or instinct or something, ah—” She stopped halfway through her sentence, tilting her head back in her chair.

Perhaps she wasn't explaining to Clara at all, but simply saying what she wanted to say.

Clayton threw his cards down, then gathered all the scattered cards on the table and began shuffling and collecting them: "I had a lot of fun playing cards today. Next time, let's change the activity and choose a game that's challenging for everyone."

Donna raised one arm and waved it, then lowered it again.

She lost the most today. First, she was suppressed by Clayton, and then by Clara. She lost all day and missed dinner. She can only eat cold food later.

Thinking about all this, she felt extremely wronged.

“Let’s go out to eat; there are still restaurants open right now,” Clayton suggested.

Donna shook her head helplessly. She still had to go to school in her dreams that night, and going out for dinner would make her late.

"Then you get some rest. Clara and I will go for a walk."

Donna wondered if it was just her imagination, but she felt that Clayton recovered unusually quickly, as if he wasn't upset at all about his afternoon's defeat.

But because she was hungry, she didn't think much of it.

The next morning, Donna saw Clayton and Clara at the dining table.

Clara wrapped her arms around Clayton's neck, draping them like a scarf, showing their closeness. Both of them were in high spirits, their joyful smiles impossible to hide.

Donna glanced across the long table, but Julius wasn't there, so she had to ask the question herself.

Where have you been?

“Clara made a contribution to the family last night, a true sacrifice!” Clara raised her hands and then naturally fell off Clayton’s shoulders, rolling twice on the table.

Clayton wrapped a napkin around himself with a reserved air and began to enjoy the roast chicken—not made by the family chef.

He's probably the only one who would eat roast chicken for breakfast.

Clara crawled back and pushed his hand away: "Clayton, take out the money Clara gave to the little sister."

Clayton took out his wallet, opened it in front of Donna, and pulled out a ten-pound note.

“No, not this! No, not this!” Clara shook his hand excitedly, and Clayton had no choice but to pull out five one-pound bills, a thick stack of shillings, and a dozen coins and put them in front of Donna.

It adds up to ten pounds.

Clara grabbed the money, her head bobbing as she rushed over and shoved it into Donna's hands.

"Donna can use the money Clara earns!"

Donna held the money, at a loss for what to do.

"You guys..." She reacted quickly, but after thinking for a while, she couldn't figure out how to express her guess tactfully: "...went to the casino?"

Clayton no longer bothered to speak; he raised his hand, made a wolf head gesture, and then nodded up and down.

"Gambling is a bad thing!"

"Then do you know why gambling is a bad thing?" Clayton finally spoke, his voice hoarse, as if he had said it many times before.

Donna couldn't think of an answer right away, but then she heard him continue to explain.

"Because we'll lose."

Clayton suddenly smiled and leaned closer to Clara: "Will we lose?"

Clara jumped onto Clayton's head, her hands braced on the table: "No way!"

“No way!” Clayton shouted as well.

The victories of the night had driven both the werewolves and the demons to a state of frenzy, and Donna could hardly bear to look at their current state.

“I can’t take this money, Clayton. Mom won’t be happy if you do this.”

Clayton was unfazed by the threat: "Oh well, let her be. There aren't many happy nuns in this world. She'll be happy when she becomes a high priest."

"If you don't like it, we'll use all the money we earn from the casino to do good deeds. If our Heavenly Father finds out, he'll send two angels to protect us!"