??Chapter 228: 227. It seems they don’t welco _1
Chapter 228: 227. It seems they don’t welco _1
The spiders were mottled with deep purple, scarlet, as well as shades of green and blue—strangely beautiful in their vibrant variety.
Each spider was the size of a palm, so with clearly segnted, furry legs, while others had slender legs and abdons with human-like faces, still others had sharply defined angles, resembling so sort of crustacean.
Even the sight of a single spider would instinctively terrify a person, let alone hundreds of spiders dropping from above.
Perhaps while the trio was eating, these spiders had been perched above their heads, silently observing every action they took.
Or perhaps, the food itself was made from spiders.
Cui Siter couldn’t help but glance at his al, thankfully, it was all normal.
“Is this a scene out of a novel?”
Lu Ban, however, earnestly began to study the spiders.
The one crawling on his shoulder had now reached his arm, its eight small eyes and pair of sharp fangs visible, and the sensation of its eight legs crawling was ticklish. The spider left behind tiny hairs as it moved, causing his skin to swell and redden.
“Sothing’s wrong with this hotel, and that priest seems to want to harm us.”
Cui Siter pulled out the revolver he usually carried and fired a shot at the ceiling, blasting one of the spiders directly. Green juices splattered, staining the wall deeply.
More spiders, legs moving, began to fall down.
Shia appeared to be well-acquainted with such monsters, and she snapped her fingers silently with her steel-gloved hand, summoning a gale within the room.
The spider at the very center of the ceiling burst apart rapidly as if struck by an invisible sphere that disintegrated everything it touched.
Mistral’s Void Burst Spell!
Even Lu Ban rembered the na; at this mont, the slow-moving yet powerful spell was perfectly suited for the situation.
In a mont, a third of the spiders turned into cheese from a burst cheese chicken cutlet, with their viscous fluids spreading everywhere, but not a drop touched Shia. The various colored fluids were stopped by an invisible barrier, forming a visible arc.
Lu Ban, on the other hand, was splattered with plenty of the liquid. He flung the spider from his hand and sniffed the fluid—a putrid sll akin to that of at left to rot for many days.
“Let’s get out of here.”
Cui Siter had used up his ammunition. Compared to Shia, his efforts seed almost ticklish. When they reached the hotel’s entrance, he did not hesitate with the nightti surroundings and dashed straight out.
Lu Ban and Shia quickly followed, noticing the spiders crawling everywhere on the ground and even more of them climbing on the hotel owner, yet he remained motionless, making no effort to resist even as the spiders covered his face.
The three left the hotel, stepping out into the thick night. The small town was lit with streetlights.
Lu Ban looked up, observing the streetlights intently.
“What, you found sothing?”
Cui Siter followed Lu Ban’s gaze but aside from noticing that the streetlights were fueled by so kind of animal fat, he found nothing else peculiar.
“I was thinking this place is well-suited for hanging capitalist exploiters,” Lu Ban retracted his gaze.
“Capitalist?”
Cui Siter heard yet another word he didn’t understand.
“We should head back to the church; I think Ancient Capital is right there.”
Shia glanced at the church, still brightly lit.
As they prepared to head to the church, they noticed a group of people gathering in the streets.
Those dressed in black suits ford circles, standing together as if witnessing sothing.
“I’m going to have a look,” Lu Ban said, curious.
“Don’t,” Cui Siter failed to stop Lu Ban, who sneaked over without attracting the attention of those people.
He blended in with those odd folks seamlessly, even outdoing them.
Lu Ban leaned in, peering into the center just like the suited onlookers.
Imdiately, he saw a man in a suit struggling in pain in the middle.
The man’s expression was still numb and indifferent, but his movents were very strange, twitching continuously like soone having an epileptic seizure, writhing on the ground and twisting his limbs.
Then, accompanied by a silent scream, his mouth opened to an alarming degree, as if it were about to dislocate, and then there was a crack, his jaw had dislocated.
The opening of his mouth did not stop, his tongue, his throat, all protruding out, as though sothing was pulling and dragging them to dig out whatever was inside.
The next mont.
With a splatter, his windpipe was torn out.
No, that wasn’t a windpipe.
Lu Ban saw a grey, rough, and sturdy tentacle erge from his mouth.
That tentacle made the man’s entire body lose power, hurriedly wriggling out like a snake just erging from its egg.
With the appearance of the tentacle, the man’s body also gradually shrank, turned, and finally, when the entire tentacle was exposed before Lu Ban, the man in the suit had disappeared, and in his place, there was a twisted monster with tentacles for a head, limbs, and body.
That creature seed to have neither eyes nor a mouth, with a tentacle as its main body, writhing on the ground like a parasite searching for a host.
“So, all these people actually transford into such monsters?”
Faced with such a frenzied and sanity-shattering scene, Lu Ban thought to himself.
At that mont, Lu Ban suddenly felt much quieter.
He looked around and all the people in suits suddenly turned their heads towards him, their gazes fixed on Lu Ban.
On those normally turning, abnormally turning heads, there were no expressions, only uninterpretable looks cast upon Lu Ban.
The night was silent and still, and even the glow of streetlights seed to dim.
“You play, you disturbed,” he said.
Lu Ban took stealthy steps, trying to leave the group.
But a person in a suit reached out and grabbed Lu Ban.
One, two, three, more people reached out their hands and grabbed Lu Ban.
In the silent night, under the watchful gaze of the lights, they opened their mouths.
Without any abnormal noise, slimy tentacles slid out from the depths of their throats.
Just like the convulsing man, the faces of these suited individuals twisted and shriveled, and the tentacles, serving as their true selves, began to reveal their original form.
Seeing this, Lu Ban was not panicked but opened his mouth instead.
In an instant, a kind of manic, incessant, torturous babble erupted.
It was like fingernails harshly scraping a blackboard, like rubbing stone against a smooth void, like a shrill and piercing buzz echoing.
Suddenly, all the tentacles began to twitch madly; the suited figures collapsed to the ground as if they had lost all reason, while Cui Siter instinctively covered his ears, and Shia’s eyes widened with bloodshot veins at the sound of the babble, and she imdiately used a spell to temporarily block her hearing.
Lu Ban ceased the babble and stepped over the writhing tentacle monsters on the ground, approaching Cui Siter and Shia.
“It seems they don’t welco
very much,” he said.
Ignoring the convulsing monsters, the three of them headed straight to the church at the center of town.
Pushing the doors of the church open, Lu Ban saw the priest standing in front of the pulpit, reading a book.
“Perhaps you might be interested in looking at this,” he said, pointing to a manuscript on the last row of benches.
Cui Siter took out a revolver and picked up the pile of manuscript as Lu Ban closed the door.
“Spiders, everywhere spiders, spiders descending from the sky…”
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