I Forged the Myth of the Ancient Overlords
Chapter 774 - 774 773. Ill wait for you at the ending _1

Chapter 774: 773. I’ll wait for you at the ending _1 Chapter 774: 773. I’ll wait for you at the ending _1 Lu Ban noticed that the people on the street were dressed in old-fashioned suits and skirts, leather shoes, a style distinctly from the previous century’s 20s and 30s, imparting a bizarre feeling.

There were hardly any cars to be seen on the street, nor bicycles, and pedestrians were walking solely on their feet.

The fog had dissipated at some point, and the afternoon sun cast its rays upon the city, adding a touch of languor. The jazz music echoing from the coffee shops along the street seemed to belong to the era when this genre was in vogue.

What drew the most attention, however, were the expressions on these peoples’ faces.

They, regardless of gender, age, or youth, all had stiff smiles plastered across their faces.

The smiles were like those forced when waiting for a photographer to take a picture, which became twitched due to the long wait, creating an unsettling sensation.

Whether they were speaking, eating, or drinking water, they maintained that eerie smile, as if they were marionettes controlled by strings, with that same expression, unchanging eternally.

Even Wes, who was usually thick-skinned, began to feel uneasy at this sight.

“What are they doing; is this some kind of April Fool’s joke?”

Yet these people didn’t seem interested in the RV, as their gazes didn’t drift that way.

James drove towards the southern part of the city, close to Miskatonic University, where a large plaza and lawn lay. During the film festival, this area would be full of vehicles. The locals revered car culture and liked to drive themselves when going out, pairing it with larger vehicles, they’d directly start barbecuing in the open air.

However, when they arrived at that parking area, they found not a single car present, an empty expanse, akin to a stadium during college entrance exams, with only a few people standing on the edge of the grass, whispering and looking their way.

“Hey, looks like we’re the first ones here.”

Wes hopped out of the car, the earlier gloom wiped clean, he glanced at the lawn and took a couple of strides across it.

“The grass here is also very clean; I think people will come by evening.”

Scott picked up the camera, his job appearing to be that of a photographer. He captured every move Wes made, with the lens following this young man, capturing his silhouette.

Suddenly, Scott filmed Wes bumping into a passerby.

The passerby staggered a few steps but eventually stabilized.

“Hey, be careful, buddy.”

Wes steadied himself and looked at the other person.

Then he saw that passerby with the eerie smile looking at him.

“■■■■■!”

The person muttered something, which Wes couldn’t make out, but it was clearly not an apology. From the tone, it sounded like some curse or mumbling.

“What did you say?”

Wes furrowed his brow and asked.

The person stopped the movement of his mouth and then, staring at Wes.

The scene was strange, the man whose face was adorned with a forced, unnatural smile, his eyes murky, stared straight at Wes, and from his mouth, a sentence escaped.

“Get lost, outsider.”

Wes understood this phrase, and he was immediately a bit angry, and wanted to argue, but suddenly, Wes realized several locals had gathered around him without him noticing.

They all wore that uncanny smile, like clowns from an amusement park with makeup on, only, they surrounded Wes, the atmosphere suffocating, making it hard for him to breathe.

“What are you going to do?”

Wes immediately retreated, shrinking back.

However, those people had no intention of letting Wes go. One of them even grabbed his hand.

Wes panicked and tried to shake the person off, but he found the person’s grip incredibly strong, like tree roots tightly bound around his arm, he tried to pull away, but the other was immovable.

Fear, accompanied by the pain in his skin, began to emerge; Wes fell into complete panic.

“Help, help me quick…”

Wes called out, but Scott behind him continued to film with the camera, even moving closer to capture a close-up of Wes’s fearful expression.

Further away, James noticed this scene, not hearing Wes’s cries for help, mistaking it for filming material, and in response to Wes’s other flailing hand, he simply waved back.

“Damn it, Scott, what are you doing? Come and save me!”

His voice carried a tremor.

In the distance, two ladies were watching with great interest, even letting out mocking laughter, intensifying Wes’s fear.

They all thought he was performing, filming a movie.

“Damn it! Let me go!”

Wes shouted, lifting his leg to kick at the people holding him.

“You shouldn’t have come here,” said one of the citizens with a strange smile.

“The sacrifice is still missing an offering.”

“Will he do?”

“He will do.”

“Will she be pleased?”

“Of course!”

“Catch him!”

“Yes, only by capturing him can we attain redemption!”

The voices of several people mingled, like a chant, reached Wes’s ears; he couldn’t think, only feeling that his life was about to come to an end.

At that moment, a hand suddenly reached out, grabbed Wes by the shoulder, and yanked him backwards.

For some reason, the hands that had been tightly holding onto Scott let go, and Wes felt himself being pulled away by a great force, falling backward and landing on his backside on the grass.

Only then did he realize that it was Lu Ban who had saved him.

“You’ve got the wrong person.”

Lu Ban said, and those people looked at him with suspicion, silent for a moment before dispersing, walking around near the grass as though nothing had happened.

Wes, still in shock, watched the citizens leave and then the events that had just transpired rushed back to him, and the words he had been choking back burst out.

“Why didn’t you help me just now? I almost died, and you’re still filming?”

He yelled at Scott.

“I thought, I’m sorry, I thought you were performing… Isn’t there a part in the script where the protagonist arrives in Miskatonic and is surrounded by a group of strangers, almost getting taken?”

Scott tried to defend himself.

“…Alright, there is such a scene, but it was obvious just now, damn it, what’s wrong with these people?”

Wes glanced at the citizens who had previously surrounded him; now they were acting as if they hadn’t even noticed this place, which was rather strange.

“What exactly is your script about?”

Lu Ban, having heard the two men’s conversation, was curious.

According to Scott, their script contained such a scenario, and then the reality unfolded with Wes almost being captured by the people here.

Wasn’t this coincidence a bit too much?

In Foreign Domain, pure coincidences were rare; more often, they were loops of fate, not to mention that Feng Yu was still trapped here.

Therefore, Lu Ban wanted to take a look at the script to confirm what might happen next.

“I—I’ll go get it,” Scott said, jogging toward the car.

Lu Ban glanced at Wes, who was still sitting on the ground resting, then his gaze fell on the grass.

Initially, Lu Ban had not noticed, but in the same spot where Wes had been encircled, on the ground, Lu Ban saw characters written in an unknown red pigment.

These characters were not in English but Chinese, which allowed Lu Ban to recognize their distinctiveness instantly.

He looked at the characters.

[Do not stop the camera.]

[I am waiting for you at the end.]

[Feng Yu]

*

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