The oldest and strongest emotion of human beings is fear, and the oldest and strongest fear comes from the unknown.
The reason why the unknown is scary is because no one knows what is hidden under the unknown. The unknown brings uneasiness and fear.
However, this is not absolute.
If a weak girl walks into a dark alley alone, she will definitely be afraid of what will happen next, afraid of dangers in the unknown darkness. No one knows what will suddenly appear in the alley, maybe a thief or a robber, maybe a robber.
It's a whole gang.
But if this weak girl brings a gun, then the fear will be slightly weakened, and at least she will have some confidence to deal with thieves and robbers.
And if this weak woman opened a Gundam and carried heavy firepower weapons, even if this alley was full of gangsters, they would still have to kneel here.
Even if the unknown hides the darkness and despair of the entire world, or even makes you an enemy of the entire universe, as long as your firepower is much higher than the opponent's, and you have the ability to overturn the table and destroy the world if you feel unhappy, then there is nothing to fear.
place.
So...all fear comes from insufficient firepower.
Those paintings were horrifying, but he was not guilty at all.
The painter was not quite able to understand the meaning of Wilson's words, and showed confusion unconsciously.
Wilson didn't bother to explain.
In this era, no one has developed a nuclear bomb to show off to everyone. The firearms we use are only slightly higher than those during World War I. Some are even flintlock guns. Even the tanks are just simple big iron shells. There are not enough.
Supported by force, it is probably difficult for them to understand the meaning of what he said.
The artist did not ask deliberately, perhaps because he felt that he might not be able to find out anything useful if he asked.
As they descended the wet steps to the end, the painter shined his flashlight at a corner of the vast basement. It was a well. The wellhead was made of bricks and opened directly on the dirt. When he got closer, he saw that the wellhead was about five feet wide.
More than a foot thick and six inches above the ground - it must be an ancient well from the seventeenth century, possibly earlier.
Wilson stared at the well located in the corner of the basement and narrowed his eyes slightly.
He once again captured the strange and weird sound waves coming from this weird well.
Perhaps because he was closer, Wilson could more clearly identify this infrasound wave, which seemed to be emitted by the howling of some kind of creature. Beyond the frequency band of the infrasound wave, it would turn into a vague mumble, like a sound coming from the throat.
The gulu came out.
These sounds are very subtle and weird, and the human senses naturally feel awkward and disgusting. However, if it were not for his super sense, the ears would not be able to detect those tiny sounds.
He originally thought that the sound he heard before came from the basement here, but didn't expect it to be deeper?
Looking at the well carefully, it is not difficult to see that the well is not completely covered with bricks, but is just covered with a heavy wooden lid.
Wilson frowned for a moment, and finally couldn't help but start calling the system in his heart.
[Zhuom, help scan what is in this well]
His loyal system quickly presented the scanned results on the light curtain.
Wilson suppressed his urge to exclaim and looked behind the manhole cover in surprise.
He originally thought that there might be a deep cave behind the manhole cover, which contained the strange monsters on the paintings.
But what happened behind it was still beyond his imagination.
He didn't expect that behind the well were tunnels extending in all directions. The damp environment made the walls of the tunnel covered with slime mold and moss. Some of the beings in the paintings were huddled in the tunnel, and some were running around.
Others are digging holes somewhere, as if looking for something.
I never expected that there would be a hollow like a hive of ant nests under here. Those monsters were distributed underground like ants underground, and those weird sounds were the sounds made by their conversations.
A... very special race?
"Where is it?" Wilson couldn't help but turned around and asked the painter.
The painter thought Wilson was asking about the well: "It was an outlet from the network of tunnels that once covered the hills."
Wilson wanted to stop and observe, but was pulled away by the painter.
He and the painter walked up the steps, passed through a narrow door, and entered a rather large room, furnished with furniture to serve as a studio. The gas lamp on the table was emitting just enough light for painting.
The semi-finished products left on the easel and leaning against the wall are as terrifying as the finished products upstairs, and at the same time show the artist's delicate skills. He sketched the outline very carefully, and it can be seen from the pencil sketch that this painter is
The perspective and proportion are mastered very well, and the extremely precise composition eloquently proves that he is indeed a great painter.
There is a large camera on the table, which should be used as a tool to take pictures of painting materials.
Well, Wilson now realizes that the artist's models are unique species from beneath the earth.
At a glance, there were disgusting pen sketches and half-finished monster paintings scattered around the room. At this moment, the painter suddenly lifted the cloth covering a large canvas and shined light onto the canvas.
The theme of the whole painting is still that hellish weird thing, the pointed ears, bloodshot eyes, flat nose, drooling mouth or dog-like face, nor the scaly hook.
The finger, the body covered with fungus, and the feet that are half hooves all show strange weirdness and distortion that can drive a sensitive person crazy. What it is holding in its arms seems to be some kind of dead human limb.
What a wonderful painting technique that is, it is eating the corpse, but its eyes are staring at Wilson outside the canvas as if he were alive.
Wilson could even imagine a living, weird being staring at him. It looked frighteningly like a beast, but it had a vague intelligence.
What kind of existence is this?
Wilson couldn't help but ask, with a vague worry in his eyes. If it is a species that actively attacks people but is intelligent enough...
"What they eat is..."
The painter grinned, not knowing what Wilson was thinking. He just thought that this gentle gentleman who had always remained calm since he came in finally felt scared.
"You don't want to know what they eat. Those ancient tunnels lead to the cemetery, the witch's house and the coast. Rot is their favorite smell."
"Oh, it's a corpse, then it's okay." Wilson breathed a sigh of relief.
He soon realized something, stared at the monster in the painting, and asked the painter inquiringly: