Werewolf Hunting Rules.

Chapter 527 Effort
Donna couldn't convince Clayton, but Clayton convinced her instead.

“Your Uncle Kerry is a respectable man, but you should still be careful. Although he is friendly and lovely most of the time, he can be incredibly absurd when he wants to, and he likes to get others to join in his foolishness. When he judges someone or something, don’t blindly believe him; use your own judgment.”

In her last conversation with her mother, she described Kerry in this way, but Donna knew that applying what she had learned was not easy.

The following day, Clayton simply took Clara out during the day, except for handling normal work—don't worry about where they went, since Clayton said they wouldn't be back at night anyway.

At 11 a.m., Donna was curled up in her bed, looking lost.

She agreed with Clayton's reasoning, but new problems arose.

lonely.

She regretted letting them go to the casino.

If she were still in school, it would be one thing, but now it's the holidays, and she's back home, yet Clayton is abandoning her, leaving her all alone. Even that arrogant Julius has to rent a place temporarily because of work, and Joseph is still just a child who can't even speak properly. She has almost no one she can be close to.

She has to be away from her family when she goes to school. If she still can't see her family when she goes home for holidays, then the holidays are meaningless.

As for the servants, she wanted to communicate with them, but because of her status, they never treated her as one of their own.

Donna admits that she is a bit clingy, but most Batnu people are more or less the same. The vast land and the sparse population are not a good match. If a person does not stick together with others, it is almost like being naked in the wilderness, facing the oppression of nature again and again until death.

Clayton should have had that personality, but as he actually began to get used to being naked in the wilderness—not metaphorically—the Batnu personality seemed to fade away as well.

Donna just couldn't accept that.

How can a house be called a "home" if it has no family and friends, no matter how big or luxurious it is?
She was sad for a while, then got up to do something.

The housekeeper, Harrington, had the household's daily expense bills and wanted to look at them to perhaps understand the reasons that prompted Clayton Bello's decision.

When she received the ledger, she immediately noticed that the largest expense was meat purchases.

This is not surprising; werewolves always need to eat meat, as meat is their source of strength.

Compared to werewolf clans that had to store resources for the future of their tribe, Clayton ate much more freely. He didn't have a large family to support, and he had an abundance of wealth, so whenever he had free time, he would eat meat—lots and lots of good meat.

It is no exaggeration that he eats half a cow a day.

The fact that he consumed six gold pounds a day just for food terrified Donna, but it was also reasonable. Otherwise, Clayton could never have become so powerful in such a short time.

The income from the rusted silver coins was simply not enough to satisfy his appetite, and now Clayton was only able to maintain his current situation by relying on his previous savings.

Donna was allowed to see another income ledger in the study so she could make comparisons. Including the cost of hiring servants and Donna's various tuition fees, if Clayton continued to rely solely on the income from rusted silver coins, his fortune would likely be depleted within five years. But Clayton said he would prepare a dowry of at least five thousand pounds for her, so he would probably go bankrupt in about two years.

It seems that changing careers is indeed a necessary action.

Regardless of whether Clayton had other considerations, the economic shortfall was the most compelling reason for changing careers.

Even at this point, Clayton never considered promoting thrift at home. He didn't want to lower the quality of life for those around him. His principle was to adopt the consumption habits appropriate to one's social class, a principle he had mentioned to Donna before.

If he can't get the money, he'll think it's his own problem.

Donna suddenly became alert and looked up at the butler, Harrington, wanting to know if he had noticed the strange number, but Harrington's expression remained unchanged.

Donna didn't believe him.

After taking the ledger from Harrington, she did not return it, keeping it under the pretext that she needed to "take another look."

Before leaving, she also secretly took a fountain pen that the housekeeper often used.

Back in her bedroom, Donna continued to examine the accounts, especially her own expenses. The figures made her feel ashamed; she had never imagined her expenses would be so high, with firewood consumption being twenty-five times that of Clayton.

After thinking it over carefully, she realized why there had been such a large expenditure.

There was a huge white porcelain bathtub in the new house, which she loved. She used to take a bath in it after each of Clayton's physical education and swordsmanship classes to wash away the sweat and fatigue, but boiling the water would use up a lot of fuel.

Because firewood was cheap in Batnu, she never paid much attention to it, never expecting that there would be such a huge difference between the prices in the city and in the countryside.

"I'll just use a shower from now on." Donna was a little disappointed that she couldn't take a bath, but saving money was essential, and even if Clayton didn't care, she still had to take it seriously.

She began to investigate item by item, looking for expenses that could be reduced.

If the family's financial burden were less, perhaps Clayton wouldn't have wanted to gamble. At 11 a.m., in the second-floor workshop, Charlotte looked sadly at Clayton, watching the rusty silver coin.

"Mr. Bello, is this really the only way?"

"It's not necessarily the case that it has to be this way; it still depends on luck."

"luck?"

“Let’s see who’s willing to bet big with me tonight,” Clayton said earnestly.

Miss Charlotte seemed quite unhappy with the answer, but Clayton's passion for the antiques business was indeed fading.

He had intended to keep the shop open for another six months to clear out the last remaining stock. But just now, a newspaper article ended his last hope—the cargo ship carrying some handicrafts and about twenty lion skins that he had previously acquired from Maxri was accidentally damaged by friendly forces during a battle between the Kingdom's navy and pirates last week and sank.

Now he no longer needs to worry about what to do with the goods, because everything is gone.

“Sir, I don’t think gambling is a good idea.”

“It’s not that bad, really.” Clayton winked at Clara behind Charlotte, hoping she wouldn’t touch the decorations on the wall so they wouldn’t fall down.

"Then what should we do with our workers?"

"Food canneries always need people, and if they're not used to working on an assembly line, newly opened pharmacies also need porters."

Miss Charlotte didn't seem very comforted, and Clayton couldn't help but sigh. He just couldn't stand seeing that kind of look in the eyes of people he knew well. If selling the shop would bring him some savings, but not selling would preserve a smile, then it was better for him not to sell.

“Alright, alright.” He raised his hands behind his desk. “If you want this shop to continue operating, I can hand it over to you, as long as you give up one-third of the turnover. But I must warn you, I will no longer spend much effort contacting my old friends to learn about court trends, as that would deplete my personal connections. Without that information, this is just an ordinary antique shop with a mediocre business.”

"You don't even fake it."

He pointed out Charlotte's flaws sharply, but Charlotte was not ashamed.

“There’s always a way,” she muttered. “I studied history.”

Clayton strongly disagreed with her statement: "If all antique shops are run by history majors, then this industry will soon decline because no one will make money."

"That's downright discrimination."

“That’s true.” Clayton tapped the little tin soldier on the table with his finger. “Don’t underestimate the antique business. We’re a luxury store. Even if we’re selling antiques, they have to meet current aesthetic trends and demands. If you don’t have that eye, no matter how much knowledge you have, you can’t do it.”

Charlotte gave that sorrowful look again.

This time, Clayton hardened his heart.

“Let’s not talk about this anymore, Charlotte. I need to do some research for my new business, and I hope you can answer my questions.”

Next, he took out several different flavors of products from the cannery he had his eye on and asked Charlotte to try them, prompting her to write a lengthy review. Then he asked her about the services she had received at the pharmacy when she was sick.

When they talked about pharmacies, they finally agreed on something.

"Nowadays, you need to get certified for everything, but pharmacists in pharmacies don't need to get certified. They are all self-taught and dare to prescribe medicine with just a copy of a pharmacopoeia from the last century. There is really no job easier than being a pharmacist."

“But I can’t allow people like that to exist in my pharmacy. I plan to recruit professionals with medical degrees to work as pharmacists,” Clayton said.

This was no less shocking to Charlotte than the store closure.

"A professional doctor's annual salary is around £1600. Are you sure you want to do this?"

“Definitely!” Clayton said firmly, then lowered his voice slightly, “I think a newly graduated medical student would charge less, what do you think?”

"That would cost a thousand pounds."

“A thousand pounds is still too high. Think about it, those who go to pharmacies are poor people who can’t afford to go to clinics. If pharmacists in pharmacies charge the same price as doctors, then they can just go to clinics directly, right? 600 pounds is the highest price I can offer. Any more and I’ll lose money.”

Clayton analyzed the pharmacy market: "Think about it again. A medical student fresh out of school has neither private medical equipment nor much savings. He can't afford to open his own clinic, and no clinic will hire him. At this point, going to a pharmacy with a decent income to accumulate medical experience and wealth, working there for a few years, and then opening his own clinic—isn't that a good process?"

"That makes a lot of sense, but why are you telling me this?" Charlotte was completely confused.

"This is so you can explain it to others."

Clayton looked at her eagerly: "Charlotte, Thane University has a medical school, and you're a Thane student too. If you go to the medical school to recruit people, I think your success rate will be much higher than mine."