"I don't need you to risk your life for me."
"Here is some money; consider it an advance payment for hiring you. You can clean yourself up first, and then we'll take you to see the so-called evidence."
Rey walked up to the unkempt Philip August, took out a stack of pounds from his pocket, squatted down, and handed it to him.
"Heh." Feeling looked down upon, Philip let out a dismissive chuckle.
"I don't mean to look down on you, but you really stink right now. Do you enjoy your current state?"
Without any disguise, Rey spoke his mind directly and asked a rhetorical question.
At this moment, Philip stank worse than a latrine. Who knew how long it had been since he bathed? His long hair was matted together, and lice occasionally scurried out from it.
The stench emanating from his body was bad enough unspoken, but once mentioned, focusing on it brought an urge to vomit.
Rey's words were direct, which the smelly Philip hadn't expected. Moreover, what he expected even less was that this boy, looking fifteen or sixteen, was the one in charge.
A kid who hadn't even grown hair yet telling him that there are many dark creatures in the world and wanting to form a Demon Hunter Squad.
Although he had suspected the existence of vampires and that his wife might have been killed by one, after investigating for so long, he had never seen a real vampire, nor found a trace of their existence.
Regardless of whether he believed it or not, a teenager like Rey saying such outlandish things didn't inspire much confidence.
So, Philip felt that Rey was just a whimsical rich kid preparing to play a vampire game, and he, Philip, didn't have time to play with him.
---
Seeing Philip August didn't take the money, Rey simply placed the cash on him, stood up, and said, "You stink. If you don't believe me, smell your own armpits."
"You're just going to rot here doing nothing. You might as well take some time to look at the evidence. In any case, you have nothing to lose."
Although Rey said the other party stank, he didn't actually pinch his nose or show any disdain; he was just stating an indisputable fact.
Philip August seemed to realize this too.
Stinking was a fact. Rey didn't mean any disrespect. Being able to state something that would normally make people angry as a matter of course, leaving no room for rebuttal.
This boy seemed to have more than just money.
"Take Mr. Philip August for a bath and a haircut. Otherwise, when he discovers that vampires are real, he won't be able to wait to start working."
Without waiting for Philip August to react, Rey finished speaking and walked out of the alley on his own.
"Do I really stink?"
Looking up at the bald Willy Bruce, Philip asked in confusion. At the same time, he lifted his arm and actually sniffed his armpit.
"Ugh!"
The sound of Philip August retching echoed in the alley: "I didn't expect it to smell this bad."
A person accustomed to being clean and tidy might think they've adapted after being sloppy for a while, but that's not the case at all.
The smelliest part of a person is the armpit; that body odor is many times worse than the smell from the body. At least, those who have smelled it once definitely don't want to smell it again. Even for someone who is always clean, let alone Philip August who has been sloppy for so long.
---
Philip August didn't become a vagrant because of mental problems.
He spent all his savings investigating his wife's murder but still hadn't found the legendary vampire.
Wandering was just his most helpless way of investigation. Perhaps a wanderer would be easily targeted by those so-called vampires.
However, he didn't find a vampire. With nothing left to care about, he unexpectedly adapted to being a vagrant in the end.
Having wandered for over a year, at first, he just thought his wife's killer was a perverted murderer mimicking a vampire. Now suddenly two people popped up wanting to hire him.
Heh, this was truly unexpected.
He hadn't even seen a dark creature like a devil, yet someone was asking him to hunt demons.
Was life playing with him, or was this rich young master playing with him?
Rey walked out of the alley, opened the car door, got into the passenger seat, and began to rest his eyes.
Before long, Willy Bruce walked out with the incredibly sloppy Philip August.
The two got into the car and drove off. The car windows were wide open the whole way because Philip really stank enough.
Haircut, bath. When Philip finished cleaning up and walked out, his whole person changed.
1.85 meters tall, solid muscles, wearing a simple black long-sleeved shirt and a pair of black military-style boots.
Indeed worthy of being a former Marine; it was believable that he could take on several ordinary people alone.
"Where to next?"
After Philip August got in the car, Willy Bruce, as the driver, turned his head and asked Rey.
"18 Privet Drive. Since we're forming a Demon Hunter Squad, you need to see a real dark creature." Rey stated an address. This address was exactly where the Fallen Werewolf, Martin Stemple, lived.
"How many people are in the Demon Hunter Squad?"
Philip, who had been silent since getting in the car, finally spoke. Seeing that Rey and the bald Willy Bruce didn't seem to be joking at all, and Rey didn't look like a foolish second-generation rich kid.
Moreover, the temperament Rey displayed seemed even more composed than his own. So, at this moment, he couldn't help but believe Rey and Willy Bruce's words a little.
"So far, just you and Bruce."
"You don't count?"
"I still need to go to school. You can't expect a student who still needs to attend classes to be a member of the Demon Hunter Squad."
"You don't look like a child," Philip remarked with feeling.
"I feel the same way about that," Willy Bruce interjected with a smile; he thought so too. To this, Rey could only respond with a wry smile.
Privet Drive was a bit far from their current location. By the time they arrived, it was just getting dark.
The three got out of the car and walked to a small villa. Rey stepped forward and knocked on the door.
Martin Stemple was in the house and quickly opened the door.
A very ordinary person, not as tall as Willy Bruce, nor as strong as Philip August. A frail-looking office worker, around twenty-seven or twenty-eight years old. Seeing Rey after opening the door, he froze for a moment.
He had just come home from work today and hadn't expected the visitor to be Rey.
After a moment of stun, he immediately warmly invited Rey and the other two into the house.
"Sit down, Martin."
Only after Rey spoke did Martin dare to sit down.
Such a cautious person seemed to have a deep fear of Rey, which Willy Bruce and Philip August couldn't understand.
Martin Stemple was a werewolf, and werewolves worshipped strength; strength was supreme.
His strength was like a child in front of Rey, a Black Dragon. This was the innate fear a werewolf had for the strong. Moreover, he had sworn a Blood Oath; Rey was his master for life.
"Do you live alone?" Rey asked after looking around the room.
"Yes, Master."
The word "Master" sounded like a common term in a slave society, which greatly surprised Willy Bruce and Philip August. Unexpectedly, this young man in his twenties called Rey "Master." This gave them more guesses about Rey's identity. Even Willy Bruce thought there were still too many things about Rey that he didn't know.
"Don't call me Master. I've already talked about this issue."
"Okay." Martin Stemple nodded cautiously.
"There's something I might need your help with." After simple pleasantries, Rey stated the original intention of coming here. He hoped Martin Stemple could transform into a werewolf in front of Willy Bruce and Philip August.