Ultraman in the world of grams

Chapter 67 Basement

All fear comes from lack of firepower.

Wilson has always regarded this as a maxim.

The oldest and strongest human emotion 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 unease and fear.

However, this is not absolute.

If a weak girl walks into a dark alley alone, then she must be afraid of what will happen next, afraid of danger in the unknown darkness.No one knows what will suddenly appear in the alley, maybe a thief or a robber, maybe a whole gang.

But if this weak girl brought a gun, then the fear would be slightly weakened, at least she would have some confidence when facing thieves and robbers.

And if this weak woman drives a Gundam and carries a heavy weapon, even if the alleys are full of gangsters, they all have to kneel here.

Even if the darkness and despair of the whole world are hidden in the unknown, even if you want to be an enemy of the whole universe, as long as your firepower is much higher than that of the opponent, and you have the ability to turn the table and destroy the world if you get upset, then there is nothing to fear place.

So... all fears stem from lack of firepower.

Those paintings are terrifying, but he has no doubts in his heart.

The painter was not very able to understand the meaning of Wilson's words, and unconsciously showed confusion.

Wilson didn't bother to explain.

In this era, no one has produced a nuclear bomb to show everyone their hands. The level of guns used by everyone is only slightly higher than that of World War I. Some are even flintlocks, and even tanks are just simple big iron shells.Without enough force to support them, it would be difficult for them to understand what he meant.

The painter didn't deliberately ask, maybe he felt that if he asked, he might not be able to find anything useful.

As they descended the damp steps to the end, the artist shone his torch on a corner of the wide basement, where a well was built with a brick mouth and cut directly into the dirt.On closer inspection, the mouth of the well is about five feet wide, more than a foot thick, and six inches above the ground—it should be an ancient well from the seventeenth century, or possibly earlier.

Wilson stared at the well in the corner of the basement, narrowing his eyes slightly.

Once again, he caught the strange and weird sound waves coming from this strange well.

Perhaps because of the closer proximity, Wilson can distinguish the infrasound more clearly. It seems to be the howling of some kind of creature. If it exceeds the frequency band of the infrasound, it will become a vague murmur, as if from the throat. Ligulu came out.

These sounds are very small and weird, and the human senses naturally feel awkward and disgusting.But if it weren't for his super perception, those tiny voices wouldn't be caught by the ears.

He originally thought that the sound he heard before came from the basement here, didn't he expect it to be deeper?

Looking at the well carefully, it is not difficult to see that the well is not completely bricked, but has a heavy wooden cover.

Wilson raised his eyebrows slightly, and finally couldn't restrain himself from calling the system in his heart.

【Zomu, help me scan what's in this well】

His loyal system quickly displayed the scanned results on the light curtain.

Wilson resisted the urge to exclaim, he looked behind the manhole cover in amazement.

He thought that there might be a deep cave behind the manhole cover, and the strange monsters on the paintings were locked in it.

But it was beyond his imagination.

He didn't expect that behind the well was a tunnel extending in all directions. The wet environment made the walls of the tunnel covered with slime mold and moss. Some of the beings in the paintings were curled up in the tunnel, and some were scurrying around. There are also those who are persistently digging holes somewhere, as if they are looking for something.

Unexpectedly, there is a hole like a hive and ant nest under here. Those monsters are distributed underground like ants in the ground, and those weird sounds are the sounds they make when they talk.

A... very special race?

"Where is it?" Wilson couldn't help but turned his head and asked the painter.

The painter thought Wilson was asking about the well: "There is an exit from the network of tunnels that once covered the hills."

Wilson still wanted to stop and observe, but was pulled away by the painter.

He and the painter went up the steps, through a narrow door, and into a rather large room, which was furnished to serve as a studio.The gas lamp on the table was casting just enough light to paint.

The semi-finished works left on the easels against the walls are as terrifying as the finished ones upstairs, while still showing the author's delicate technique.He outlined the outline very carefully. From the pencil sketch, it can be seen that this man has a very good grasp of perspective and proportion. The extremely precise composition proves eloquently that he is indeed a great painter.

There is a large camera on the table, which should be used as a tool for taking pictures of painting materials.

Oh, and Wilson now realizes that the painter's models are those unique subterranean species.

At first glance, there are disgusting pen sketches and half-finished monster paintings scattered around the room.At this time, the painter suddenly lifted the cover covering a large canvas and let the light shine on the canvas.

The theme of the whole painting is still that hellish monstrosity, the pointy ears, bloodshot eyes, flat nose, drooling mouth or dog-like face, and it is not a scaly hook. The fingers, the mold-covered body, the half-hoofed feet, all exude strange oddities and distortions capable of driving a sensitive person insane.What it held in its arms seemed to be some kind of dead human limb.

What an excellent painting technique, it is eating the corpse, but its eyes are fixed on Wilson outside the canvas as if alive.

Wilson could even imagine that a living, such a weird existence was staring at him.Its appearance is frighteningly like that of a wild beast, but it faintly reveals wisdom.

What kind of existence is this?

Wilson couldn't help asking, with a hint of worry in his eyes.If it is a species that actively attacks humans but has enough intelligence...

"They eat..."

The painter grinned. He didn't know what Wilson was thinking. He just thought that this gentle gentleman who had been calm since he came in was finally terrified.

"You don't want to know what they eat. Those ancient tunnels lead to the graveyard, the witch's house and the coast. Rotten is their favorite smell."

"Oh, it's a corpse, it's okay." Wilson breathed a sigh of relief.

He soon realized something, stared at the monster in the painting, and asked the painter probingly:

"... a ghoul?"

(End of this chapter)