Ultraman in the world of grams

Chapter 64 The Painter
This is an old neighborhood left in a corner of history. The oldest house can even be traced back to the seventeenth century, which can be said to have a profound heritage for an immigrant country.

Signs of weathering and erosion can be seen everywhere on the walls of the house, some repairing wooden strips are nailed to the corners of the broken windows, and cobwebs are all over the beams.

The gray and depressing musty smell reveals a strong old air, which is enough to glimpse the mighty power of time.

Generally speaking, there are basically not many well-educated, elegant and decent people like Wilson.

The atmosphere of the entire Old North Point district was incompatible with him.

Even the wild cats here stared curiously at Wilson, who seemed to have strayed into the place, and one even followed him playfully, as if he had a good impression of the two-legged beast.

But soon, the wild cat was frightened by the strange and disgusting sound, arched its back, made a purring sound in its throat, and raised its tail high.

Wilson also noticed the Wildcats' reaction.

He stared at the old house that seemed to be the source of the sound.

That is not the range of sound waves that humans can hear, it is less than [-] Hz, so the wavelength is very long and can be transmitted to a long range.

Strictly speaking, this is not actually heard by Wilson's ears, but from his gradually strengthening perception ability.He found that his state was somewhat similar to that of Ultraman Orb, because for some reason, he turned into light with the help of the power of his predecessors, and his body was also strengthened a lot due to the power of Ultraman.

He held his breath and concentrated on sensing the weird sound wave.

That sound wave was a bit hairy, but if it was just some kind of animal, then he didn't have to be too nervous.

Suddenly there was another burst, and this time it was a real sound, which was within the hearing range of normal people, although it was extremely small and weak, and it was still a vague and vague syllable.

Like "Migu" and "Guling".

Somehow, there was a sickening nausea.

This time aroused Wilson's curiosity.

What makes such a strange sound in the middle of the night.

He walked slowly to the old small house. The gate was ordinary, and there were similar old houses on both sides.

Wilson hesitated for a moment, then knocked lightly on the door.

He didn't know what was inside, and he wasn't sure if anyone would open the door.

But he can't let Zhuom scan this area directly. This is not the same as the dangerous situation in the hotel at the beginning. This area is a residential area, and it is at night. It's been scanned, isn't it embarrassing...

Such a small sound doesn't seem to be coming from a monster.

He didn't remember any monster sounding like this.

Maybe it's just that the place is old and in disrepair, after all, the sound is really not like a human can make it.

Wilson thought it best to warn the people who lived here.

He waited for a while and no one opened the door.

Glancing at the time on the Zhuomu light screen: 20:09
Could it be that the people living in this room fell asleep?It seems a little early to go to bed at this point, which is a bit of a fantasy for him before time travel.

He hesitated for a moment, debating whether to continue knocking on the door.

Just as he was about to give up, there were slight footsteps from the basement, and soon, the old wooden door in front of him slammed open, and a man with some ink on his face and pencil dust on his knuckles opened it. Door.

Wilson moved from his weedy hair to his paint-stained clothes.

The other party's face was obviously full of doubts, and he looked at the black-haired professor in front of him who was incompatible with the entire old block with puzzlement and vigilance.

If you are a person with a bad temper, it must be very unpleasant to be knocked on the door by a stranger in the middle of the night.

Fortunately, the owner seemed to have a pretty good temper, he just asked puzzledly:
"you are?"

"Hmm..." Wilson murmured.

He can't just come up and say that there is a strange sound in your basement, and then I'm curious to know what's going on, and want to go to your basement to have a look, which will probably be regarded as crazy.

He looked at the image of the owner in front of him, and suddenly had a good idea, and he showed a bright smile: "You are a painter, right?"

"Yes." The painter in front of him seemed to let go of his guard and nodded reservedly, but he was obviously more confused, "I don't know who you are?"

"Well...that's it." Wilson racked his brains, but on the surface he still maintained a calm demeanor.He had already mastered the trick of talking nonsense when he saw people, and talking nonsense when he saw people, long before he crossed over.

"I have always had a yearning for art. I think that painting is a unique form of expression that shows people's spiritual world and has a different charm. I heard that there is a special painter living here. I would like to appreciate your works. "

Wilson spoke very sincerely and looked at the other party sincerely.

What he said was actually some cliche.Expand according to some characteristics displayed by the other party.As for special painters... everyone subconsciously thinks they are special, doesn't they?Moreover, painters like this hope that their works can be appreciated by others.

The other party obviously believed what Wilson said, especially when he heard the last sentence, there was a little excitement in his dark eyes.

"Of course." The painter showed a smile, and quickly agreed, leading Wilson to his room.

As soon as Wilson entered the door, he saw many paintings hanging on the wall.

The moment he saw those paintings, Wilson raised his eyebrows in surprise.

What he said was just rhetoric, but he didn't expect that the painter's paintings were really different.

What caught his attention was one pair after another of grotesque and strange works. For example, one of them painted three shriveled human faces that looked like old witches. He did not expect that human faces could be painted so distorted, just like Like crawling out of hell.

Wilson, who originally only intended to compliment him, was thoroughly attracted by these paintings.These paintings are actually not scary to him, at least after experiencing the era of big data, he has long been numb to these novelty-seeking things.

But the painter's works reveal a different kind of reality in the weird fantasy. Those brushstrokes fall on the canvas wonderfully, as if they are depicting a magical reality, which makes people feel like seeing it with their own eyes.

He couldn't help admiring: "What a unique work of art, these seem to be real, how did you do it?"

　No Prize Guess: Who is this artist?
　　
　
(End of this chapter)