Hunting High School

Time goes back a few minutes.

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

The sunflower spreads its petals on the canvas, despising the existence of its companions. Those with three flowers look down on those with five flowers, thinking that rare things are more precious; those with fifteen flowers look down on those with twelve or less, thinking that they can't show the splendor of sunflowers at all. When Vincent was creating, he must have never imagined that there would be such discord among own works.

The shouter leaned on the railing and cleared his throat. Liuyun behind him and the sea swirled in his voice, forming bottomless whirlpools. People seemed to be able to see the endless starry sky or The ancient palace located in the deepest seabed.

Sphinx shook the dust off his body, stood up, and the rumbling sound echoed throughout the exhibition hall. The stones on it 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 sphinx in front of the pharaoh's tomb in Giza, Egypt, imitated its shape, which makes it famous in the world. A lot of prestige has been added to this museum.

And swarms of Cupids, bare-bottomed, 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 were alive, wizards couldn't see their appearance. After they died, only dry bones remained, and wizards still couldn't see their appearance clearly.

A false sun hangs over the sand table, spewing flames into the valley below. The horses and camels made of colored glaze are hiding in the shade, sticking out their tongues and gnawing on the sand. The two groups of wizards who fought each other on the sand table during the day are snuggling together at this moment, talking about their acting careers. From time to time, a black-robed wizard will dig out the arms or legs of a white-robed wizard in the sand—this is what is left on the sand table during the daytime war. Traces—then they yelled, waved the scriptures, and helped to connect the limbs.

The whole museum.

Except for contemplators who like to sit alone on the stone platform in a daze, almost all the long-legged and moving exhibits in the museum will walk off the booth under the moonlight and night, stretch their muscles and bones, and rejuvenate their spirits.

This is their freedom.

It is those exhibits that cannot move, such as the skull of the legendary one-eyed titan Cyclopes, with only one head left, so it can only stay in the glass cabinet, singing weird songs that others will never understand.

The young hunters of the Forgiveness Hunt sneaked into the museum through a side door, and did not attract much attention from the exhibits.

Every year and every month, there are too many young people sneaking into the museum at night.

There are wizards and witches holding hands, hiding in the shadows and kissing each other; there are also those who come to the museum with homework books to find explanations for exhibits, hoping to polish their own papers; Books and talisman papers, come to subdue demons and subdue demons in search of excitement.

No matter what these young wizards did, or how they did it, the exhibits in the museum largely ignored the stalking figures.

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

It was the same way tonight.

Someone came into the house.

Someone went downstage.

There were still people standing outside the door, sitting on the stone steps, with their backs facing all of this.

Everything should have been so clear-cut.

Until the hard thorn on a certain branch of the aralia tree pricked the finger of a certain young wizard, and a little red blood dripped on the thorn tip.

With that bit of blood spreading.

Everything will be different.

Although the museum is alive, the residents of 'Life' in this museum are all dead.

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

There is a chance that they can get rid of their life like puppets day after day, and walk out of the moonlight and into the sun like a real wizard, or a real magical creature.

The empty eye sockets of the skeletons were stimulated by the breath, and a little red light flickered in the deepest part of the black eye sockets; the specimens that had been tanned by magic touched their empty chests, as if they heard the beating of the heart There are also heavy stone statues, which moved down the booth clumsily with heavy steps, looking for the direction of the trace of breath, which rumbled the whole museum.

...

...

Young wizards scurrying around, being chased by tides of fossilized skeletons, were oblivious to what was happening throughout the museum. The urgent pursuit can only make them focus on the escape in front of them, and they have no spare time for any deep thinking.

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

They will joke with each other, make complaints about each other, and guess together the reason for the riot among the bone exhibits.

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

It is an ancient custom of wizards to throw incense ash over their left shoulder before entering the Baicao Garden, which is said to bring good luck.

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

Theoretically, throwing in the opposite direction should bring about opposite consequences. It is not surprising that Zhang Jixin feels that he brings bad luck.

But this explanation is too far-fetched.

Zheng Qing flipped a page of the Dharma book, summoned several vines, twisted them together, and made a thick rope. One end was tied to the tail of the double-headed dragon fossil, and the other end was wrapped around the black pillar farther away. After a few laps, a knot was tied.

Seeing the dragon howling and writhing in mid-air, he turned his head, with a gloomy face, and said:

"It's just throwing a handful of incense ash, it won't bring about such a bad result... Fatty just knocked a bird into the air, so wouldn't he be beaten to death with a peach stick?"

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

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

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

Then, while running, he complained in a crying voice: "This incident... I don't blame this incident! How can I see what is in front of me... There are so many of them!"

In Potions class last year, Fatty suffered a lot for a few days because he picked a bowl flower by mistake.

So he is extremely sensitive to such nagging things.

Rumbling cries echoed in the exhibition hall.

Kind of funny.

It's also a little pathetic.