I created the myth of the Great Old Ones.

Scott continued to record the entire event with his camera. He shouted that even though he wasn't a devout believer, climbing the statue was still somewhat taboo and made Scott uncomfortable.

"This place is abandoned."

In the blink of an eye, Wes had climbed to the top of the statue's shoulder. He held the Virgin Mary's neck and reached for the black cloth covering the statue's eyes.

Hey, what are you doing?

Just then, James, who had just stepped into the church through the rubble, called out, causing Wes to pause for a moment.

"Let's see what this is."

As he spoke, he had already grabbed the piece of black cloth.

The black cloth was rough in texture and didn't look like cloth, giving people a strange feeling. Wes didn't think too much about it and tried to tear off the black cloth directly.

However, the black cloth was wrapped very tightly, and Wes had to exert force. But just then, the black cloth suddenly loosened, and he lost his balance and fell backward.

"!!!"

Scott was about to help him up, but Wes reacted quickly and grabbed the Virgin Mary's arm. He slipped and ended up hanging on that arm.

Fortunately, it wasn't too high. Wes glanced down, let go, and jumped down, landing smoothly.

"That scared me to death."

Weiss called out, glanced at the black cloth in his hand, and then looked up at the face of the statue of the Virgin Mary.

There is a pair of eyes there.

Unlike the gray and impressionistic style of the gods, the eyes of the Virgin Mary are very realistic, as if they were carefully carved and inlaid.

These eyes shone with a dazzling array of starlight, as if they contained the entire Milky Way. On the gray stone statue, these eyes were truly bewitching, leaving Wes momentarily stunned.

Scott was also stunned. His camera was recording the image of those eyes, and for some reason, he felt as if those eyes were staring at him.

James was also drawn to those eyes; he took a breath, his voice trembling slightly.

"This shouldn't be happening, how could it be like this?"

"It seems that these eyes are what allowed them to blind the idol."

Lu Ban said that the eyes were not human, but rather seemed to be those of some indescribable great being, or at least, they might have witnessed something.

"I think we'd better restore it to its original state."

Lu Ban took the black cloth from Wes's hand and carefully stroked it with his fingers to roughly judge the material.

"This isn't cloth, but some kind of treated leather, like cowhide or deerskin..."

Thinking about this, Lu Ban had a guess.

He remained silent, climbed onto the statue, and covered the Virgin Mary's eyes with the black cloth once more.

"Let's hurry, we'll be at Miskatonic soon."

After Lu Ban finished doing all that, James, who was still lost in those eyes, finally realized what was happening.

Chapter 772 Three Broadcasts

The scenery of Miskatonic is unlike anything else.

The RV followed the road signs and soon came into view of the city's buildings.

At the edge of vast, uncultivated farmlands in winter lies the city.

Unlike the bustling city of Boston or the retro charm of Detroit, Miskatole, an agricultural city, is full of retro flavor, most notably its houses with pointed roofs.

This type of Gothic architecture often carries a strong religious connotation, possibly because this architectural style, which originated in France, was mostly used in churches, such as Notre Dame Cathedral in Paris, which has since been burned down.

Ironically, these churches were not built for religious worship, but rather as public halls for democratic development. Today, however, they are mostly associated with religion and faith, proving that time can indeed erase all traces.

Spires and stained glass—it's hard to imagine such architecture being commonplace in 21st-century cities, but in Miskatole, it's a common sight.

As they approached the city, the radio started crackling. James, who was taking over the driving shift, turned the knob and finally made the sound clear.

"...Today's Miskatonic Hotline is here to help you solve your problems. Let's start by looking at our first reader's letter."

The voice sounded familiar, and after thinking back carefully, Lu Ban realized it was from that somewhat crazy radio broadcast last night.

Now it sounds less like a private radio station and more like an official one?

Some official radio stations do indeed take a personalized approach; in countries that value freedom, you can even hear some indescribable things being broadcast live on official radio stations.

The car swayed slightly, and Lu Ban heard the radio continue playing.

“Ms. Blaine from Miskatole… My husband has been coming home very late every night lately, even though his job isn’t that busy. I don’t know where he’s been all this time. One day I tried to follow him after get off work, but I found him hiding in an alley, eating the carcasses of wild dogs. What should I do?”

Hearing the first half, the people in the car chuckled, thinking it was probably some kind of green plant growing on their heads again. But when they heard the second half, they couldn't laugh anymore.

"Is this a prank?"

Wes adjusted his glasses and asked instinctively.

Some radio programs are not very popular, so they have to play fake reader letters to entertain, which is similar to how anchors make up and read comments when watching live streams.

He assumed it was similar, and then he heard the broadcast continuing.

“Ms. Blaine, eating stray dog ​​carcasses in alleyways isn’t particularly unusual. It’s common knowledge that stray dog ​​carcasses will rot and stink if left unattended in dark places. So your husband is contributing to the cleanliness of the city. You can have him take you there next time.”

The radio broadcast offered advice, but it sounded rather strange.

"The second letter is from Mr. Raphael in Miskatonic... I'm very troubled lately. The bodies in the warehouse keep getting dug up and scattered everywhere, and they're always short-weighted. I've tried putting up warning signs and building fences, but they still get dug up. A few days ago, I discovered that another body had been stolen. When I chased after them, I found two people eating on the street. Should I just shoot them?"

The second broadcast letter was even more bizarre.

"What is a corpse?"

Talia looked at the others. At first, she thought it was some kind of nickname, but the more she heard, the more she felt something was wrong.

"He probably meant something like smoked meat."

Valerie speculated.

"Could it be... that the stolen body is the same stray dog ​​that the listener's husband ate?"

James tried to explain.

"They stole the smoked dog meat and grilled it on the roadside, that's probably it? Maybe they were afraid of those environmentalists or animal rights activists causing trouble. I know those guys, they're all extremists."

"Is that right?"

Wes felt something was off.

“Mr. Raphael, what I want to say is that your right to protect your private property is sacred and inviolable. Give those damned guys a shot, let them bleed. Miskatole needs you to maintain order!”

The radio host spoke in a loud voice, but the content was actually quite chilling.

"Are they crazy?"

Talia cried out, and upon hearing her sharp voice, Scott, who was resting, rolled over but did not wake up.

"The third letter was from Mr. Gore of Miskatonic... I was eaten. They hung my body upside down in the house, cut open my veins with a knife, and drained the blood. I was just hanging upside down like that, only able to stare at those guys. But then I was stolen. That man dragged me into the street and gnawed on my flesh and blood. His mouth was full of it, his mouth was full of it. He even called on others. Oh, thank God, in the end they were all killed. Good rifle bullets went straight into their foreheads. Thank God, at least I still have my brains left."

The radio host spoke again, and this time the letter left the people in the car completely bewildered.

"This is definitely a prank, one of those horror/paranormal radio programs!"

Talia exclaimed again, causing Scott, who was fast asleep beside her, to frown slightly.

"The good news is that we now know the whole story."

Lu Ban didn't feel anything special; he'd seen this kind of thing many times before.

If this is the case with Miskatonic's official radio station, then the city is likely suffering from some serious illness.

However, it made no difference to Lu Ban, since Feng Yu was already trapped here, it would be strange if Miskatok didn't have any serious illness.

"This is definitely a story, and it's quite interesting. It might be a special segment for the film festival!"

Weiss explained that rather than believing the letters were genuine, it was clearly a joke to coincide with the film festival.

“Oh, I’m so sorry, Mr. Gore. It’s clear they don’t respect your body. Miskatonic doesn’t welcome people like that. If you can provide more detailed clues, perhaps we can help you. In any case, making Miskatonic a better place is our ultimate goal!”

"After reading so many letters, let's take a short break and relax with a song. Please listen to 'Hymn to the Old Gods'."

The radio played a hymn-like melody again, but the lyrics were similar to those somewhat blasphemous songs I'd heard the night before, telling tales of a connection between a great being and the stars, a chilling melody amidst the joyful tune.

The RV has already entered the city, and among those Gothic buildings, you can see a few pedestrians walking around.

Every passerby wore a strange and exaggerated smile.

Chapter 773 I'll be waiting for you at the end

Lu Ban noticed that the people on the street were wearing old-fashioned suits and skirts, and leather shoes. This kind of dressing, which was obviously from the 1920s and 1930s, gave people a strange feeling.

There were hardly any cars or bicycles on the street, and pedestrians walked on foot.

The fog had dissipated sometime earlier, and the afternoon sun shone on the city, adding a touch of languid charm. Jazz music echoed from the street-side cafes, as if it were the era when this style of music was popular.

What's most intriguing are the expressions on those people's faces.

Regardless of age or gender, they all wore stiff smiles.

The smile was like the twitching of a mouth that appears when waiting to be photographed, but becomes slightly convulsive because the photographer hasn't pressed the shutter for a long time, giving people a sense of unease.

Whether they were speaking, eating, or drinking, they always wore that eerie smile, like puppets on strings, with that same expression that never changed.

Seeing this, even the usually easygoing Wes felt uneasy.

"What are they doing? Is this some kind of April Fool's joke?"

However, these people didn't seem interested in the RV and didn't even glance at it.

James drove to the south of the city, near Miskatole University, where there was a large square and lawn. During the film festival, the area was full of cars. The locals have a great respect for car culture and love to go on road trips. They often bring larger cars and have barbecues right there in the open.

However, when they arrived at the parking lot, they found it completely empty, like a stadium during the college entrance examination period, with only a few people standing on the edge of the grass, whispering and watching them.

"Hey, looks like we're the first ones here."

Wes jumped out of the car, his earlier gloom vanishing. He glanced at the grass and ran a few steps on it.

"The grass is very clean, and I think people will come by evening."

Scott picked up the camera; his job seemed to be that of a photographer. He recorded Wes's every move, the lens following the young man's movements and capturing his figure.