Monster Hunting High School

Go back a few minutes.

When night falls and the moonlight shines through the tall floor-to-ceiling windows into the museum's exhibition hall, the exhibits in the exhibition hall wake up from their sleep and begin to enjoy their freedom.

Sunflowers spread their petals on the canvas, despising the existence of their companions. Those with three flowers look down upon those with five, feeling that they are rare and valuable; those with fifteen flowers look down on those with twelve or less, feeling that they cannot show the splendor of sunflowers at all. When Vincent first started creating, he would never have imagined that his works would have such discord.

The shouter leaned on the railing and cleared his throat. The clouds and sea water behind him swirled in his voice, rolling out bottomless whirlpools. People seemed to be able to see the endless starry sky through the centers of those vortexes. Or that ancient palace sitting on the deepest sea floor.

The Sphinx shook the dust off his body and stood up, and the whole exhibition hall echoed with a rumbling sound. The stones on its body are so old that even the most senior researchers in the museum are not sure about the age of those stones. It is said that the human-faced lion in front of the tomb of the Pharaoh in Giza, Egypt, imitated its shape, which gives it a great reputation. A lot of prestige has been added to this museum.

There were also groups of cupids, naked buttocks, flapping their little wings, flying around, shooting arrows at every wizard and witch they saw. It's just that the wizards who can have a place in the wax figure area of ​​the museum are no longer young and have passed the age of spring.

In addition, there are thestrals. When they are alive, wizards cannot see their appearance. After they die, only dry skeletons are left, and wizards still cannot see their appearance clearly.

The false sun hung over the sand table, spitting blazing fire into the valley below. The horses and camels made of colored glaze were hiding in the shade, sticking out their tongues and gnawing at the sand. The two groups of wizards who had been fighting each other on the sand table during the day were now huddled together and chatting about their acting careers. From time to time, the black-robed wizards dug out the arms or legs of the white-robed wizards in the sand - these were the remnants of the day's war on the sand table. Traces - then they shouted, waved Dharma books, and helped with the procedures to join the limbs.

The whole museum.

Except for the meditators who like to sit alone on the stone platform in a daze, almost all the long-legged and mobile exhibits in the museum will walk off the exhibition stand under the moonlight and night, stretch their muscles and muscles, and refresh themselves.

This is their freedom.

Those are the exhibits that cannot move, such as the skull of the legendary cyclops, which only has one head left, so it can only stay in the glass cabinet and sing weird songs that others will never understand.

The young hunters of the Exoneration Hunting Team sneaked into the museum through the side door and did not attract much attention from the exhibits.

Every year, every month, too many young people sneak into the museum at night.

There are wizards and witches holding hands, hiding in the shadows and making love to each other; there are also people who come to the museum with homework books to find explanations about the exhibits, hoping to polish their papers; there are also rumors that the museum is haunted at night, bringing them with them Dharma books and talisman papers come to conquer demons and seek excitement.

No matter what these young wizards did, or how they did it, the exhibits in the museum mostly turned a blind eye, pretending not to see the sneaking figures.

After all, they are not in the same world as them.

It was originally like this tonight.

Someone walked into the house.

Someone came off the stage.

There were people guarding the door, sitting on the stone steps, with their backs to everything.

Originally, everything should be so clear-cut.

Until a hard thorn on a branch of the aralia tree pricked the finger of a young wizard, and a drop of bright red blood hung on the tip of the thorn.

With that bit of blood spreading.

Everything will be different.

Although the museum is alive, the residents who 'live' in this museum are all dead.

Tonight, as the bloody aura spread, the dead creatures who had stayed in this living coffin for a lifetime suddenly smelled an opportunity to break the law of death.

A chance to get rid of their puppet-like life day after day and step out of the moonlight into the sunshine like a real wizard or a real magical creature.

The empty eye sockets of the skeletons were stimulated by the breath, and a red light flashed in the deepest part of the black eye sockets; the magic-tanned specimens, touching their empty chests, seemed to hear the beating of their hearts. ; There are also heavy stone statues, clumsily moving off the stand, taking heavy steps, looking for the direction of the breath, making the whole museum rumble.

…

…

The young wizards, who were being chased around by waves of skeleton fossils, were completely ignorant of everything that was happening in the entire museum. The urgent pursuit can only focus on the escape in front of them, leaving no room for any in-depth thinking.

But as the most outstanding young people in First University, they would not be too pessimistic even when they were running away.

They would joke with each other, complain about each other, and speculate on the reasons for the riot among the bone exhibits.

So far, Zhang Jixin has put forward the most direct guess - he threw the incense ashes over his right shoulder when he entered the Baicao Garden, thus bringing bad luck to everyone.

Throwing incense ashes over your left shoulder before entering the Herb Garden is an ancient custom among wizards. It is said to bring good luck.

But no one knows the consequences of throwing it over the right shoulder.

Theoretically, if the object is thrown in the opposite direction, the consequences should also be opposite. It’s not surprising that Zhang Jixin feels that he brings bad luck.

But this explanation is too far-fetched.

Zheng Qing turned over a page of Dharma book, summoned several vines, twisted them together, and tied a thick rope. One end was tied around the tail of the two-headed dragon fossil, and the other end was wrapped around the black pillar further away. After a few turns, I tied a knot.

Seeing the dragon howling and twisting in mid-air, he turned back, with a gloomy face, and said:

"It's just throwing a handful of incense ash, it can't lead to such a bad result... The fat man just knocked away a phoenix, wouldn't he be beaten to death with a mahogany stick?"

According to legend, Hou Yi was cursed by the big rabbit because he bullied a falcon, and was finally killed by his disciple Pang Meng with a peach tree.

Although the fat man has become bigger, his ears have not failed. On the contrary, because his ears have become bigger, his hearing has become much more sensitive.

After hearing Zheng Qing's speculation, he staggered and almost fell amidst the tide of bones.

Then he ran and complained with a cry: "This thing... this thing is not my fault! How can I see clearly what is in front of me... there are so many of them!"

Last year in Potions class, Fatty suffered a lot for several days because he picked a bowl flower by mistake.

So he is extremely sensitive to this kind of nonsense.

Rumbling cries echoed in the exhibition hall.

A bit funny.

It's also a bit pitiful.