Chapter 79 - 72: Rainstorm

Chapter 79: Chapter 72: Rainstorm

In the end, Xu Mo decided to ignore the five corpses that had gradually been exposed by the melting snow, now lying fully revealed under the sun.

For one, the melting snow had turned the ground into a muddy, waterlogged mess, making the trek back and forth a hassle. For another, a part of him wanted to leave them as a warning. Let their silent remains serve as a constant reminder of this apocalypse’s cruelty and the treachery of the human heart, dispelling any complacency that might arise from his growing strength.

As the snowmelt accelerated, the five bodies became completely exposed to the air and began to emit a faint but definite odor. Before long, Xu Mo spotted several black dots circling in the sky.

They were birds—a few large crows and some other carrion-eaters he couldn’t name. They had keenly detected the "feast" below. After circling a few times to confirm there were no obvious threats, they descended one by one, beginning to tear and peck at the five corpses with their sharp beaks and talons.

Watching this cruel yet natural scene, Xu Mo’s thoughts drifted to something more distant. He considered a question he had previously overlooked. ’If land animals, like those wolves, can be corrupted and mutated by the darkness, what about the birds in the sky? Could they escape the same fate?’

Once the thought took root, it began to grow uncontrollably.

’And the oceans... they cover the vast majority of the planet’s surface. The variety and number of creatures within them far exceed those on land. If they were also corrupted and mutated by the Dark Energy...’

At this thought, Xu Mo couldn’t help but gasp.

The vast oceans were already full of mystery and the unknown, a realm humanity had never fully conquered. If the creatures of the sea underwent mass mutations, giving rise to all sorts of unimaginable horrors, wouldn’t the immense oceans become a forbidden zone even more dangerous and bizarre than the land? The possibility of survivors using ships for cross-sea contact or to harvest marine resources would become minuscule, if not completely impossible.

’The oceans are probably off-limits for the foreseeable future...’ Xu Mo reached a depressing but unavoidable conclusion. This would undoubtedly further restrict the scope of human civilization’s activities.

Xu Mo shook his head hard, forcing these vast and distant worries from his mind. It was too early to be thinking about threats from the ocean; he needed to focus on the immediate challenges before him.

Right now, the drastic change in the environment was what Xu Mo had to face directly.

With the sun now consistently staying out for about ten hours a day, releasing increasingly intense light and heat, the speed of the snowmelt reached its peak. The land, once covered by a thick blanket of snow, was being uncovered as if the blanket were being pulled away, revealing vast, muddy, and ravaged patches soaked in ice-cold water. Low-lying areas saw pools of water expand continuously, even beginning to form gurgling streams.

Meanwhile, the immense amount of water vapor from the melting snow evaporated under the sun, rising into the air and interacting with the gradually reawakening atmospheric circulation, creating a clear chain reaction.

Xu Mo noticed the sky was no longer the consistent azure blue it had been in the early days after the Eternal Night’s end. More and more clouds began to gather—first as wispy white strands, then as large, clumping cumulus clouds. Their color gradually shifted from pure white to grayish-white, even taking on a faint leaden-gray hue. The cloud layer grew thicker and lower, like a heavy curtain slowly closing on the horizon.

’The water vapor in the air must be this saturated already...’ Xu Mo thought, looking at the increasingly gloomy sky. ’It seems a downpour is unavoidable.’

For a region undergoing snowmelt, heavy rain was a double-edged sword. It could accelerate the final melting of the snow, but more terrifyingly, it would combine with the meltwater, drastically increasing surface runoff and triggering more violent and rapid flash floods and waterlogging. This would undoubtedly cause the risk of the "secondary disasters" warned of by the Jiang City Shelter to rise exponentially.

Amid fluctuations, the temperature showed a clear upward trend. Although the nights remained cold, the daytime high now consistently broke freezing, making the melting process nearly continuous.

Xu Mo knew that the real test was about to arrive along with this anticipated storm.

Just in case, Xu Mo double-checked the assault boat’s moorings, ensuring the ropes were secure and the hull was undamaged. He also preemptively filled the boat’s fuel tank with some of his reserves and inspected the engine’s pull-start cord and key components to ensure it could be started quickly when needed.

After finishing all that, Xu Mo packed some important supplies that were still on the second floor—not yet stored in his private space—into an emergency go-bag and placed it within easy reach. He even planned the specific steps and route for a quick transfer from the second-floor window to the assault boat, should the water level rise too quickly.

Furthermore, Xu Mo went downstairs to carefully observe the terrain and water flow tendencies around his shelter, confirming that his building was situated on relatively high ground.

Finally, Xu Mo cleared the rooftop drains to ensure rainwater could flow away smoothly and not accumulate, adding extra weight to the roof.

The air was now filled with the distinct, heavy humidity that precedes a storm. The wind seemed to have died down, as if nature itself was gathering its strength, preparing to unleash all the water vapor accumulated from the melting snow.

Xu Mo stood by the window, gazing at the oppressive, gloomy sky, feeling the heavy atmosphere of the impending storm.

There was no gust of wind as a warning, no gradual transition from sparse drops to a downpour. Almost instantaneously, huge raindrops slammed down without any preamble.

RAT-A-TAT-TAT!

The raindrops were terrifyingly dense, beyond what could be described as "strands" or a "curtain" of rain. It was more like an entire wall of water smashing down from the sky. They violently struck the roof, the windows, and every exposed object outside, creating a continuous roar that instantly drowned out all other sounds.

The rain was so thick that Xu Mo felt his vision was instantly stripped away. Outside the window was a churning, white expanse of splashing water.

Xu Mo tried to look out, but the outline of the building next door, just a few meters away, was already blurry and indistinct, as if viewed through a violently shaking sheet of frosted glass. If an ordinary person were standing in that curtain of rain, they probably couldn’t even make out a figure three to five meters away.

The sheer volume of rain far exceeded Xu Mo’s imagination. Although the broadcasts from Jiang City and Rock had issued repeated warnings, only by experiencing it firsthand could one truly grasp the terrifying power of this deluge, as if the heavens had cracked open and the galaxy itself was pouring down.

Just moments after this pure, violent roar of rain had taken command of the world, the light and sound that had been suppressed for so long finally tore through the heavy clouds, arriving with a dramatic delay.

CRACK—!!!

An incredibly blinding, fork-shaped bolt of ghastly white lightning, like an enraged silver dragon, suddenly ripped the dim sky apart, illuminating the world in a deathly white.

Almost at the same instant the lightning flashed, a deafening clap of thunder exploded across the sky. This was no distant, muffled rumble but a nearby explosion. The immense shockwave, mixed with the sound of the rain, formed a tangible impact that made the windowpanes hum. Xu Mo felt as though even the floorboards beneath his feet gave a faint, imperceptible tremor.

Bolt after bolt of lightning raged erratically, each one momentarily lighting up the dark world and revealing the apocalyptic scene of the storm outside. The thunder, like a war drum, grew faster and fiercer with each clap, rolling in endlessly, intertwined with the clamor of the downpour.

Xu Mo felt that if one were to throw a rave right now, it would be pretty epic. You wouldn’t even need a light show.

The rain washed over the land with insane force. The ground, already saturated and muddy from the melting snow, couldn’t absorb such a massive amount of water. Murky floodwaters rose and spread at a visible rate. Low-lying areas instantly became a vast expanse of water, its surface littered with all kinds of trash, broken wood, and foam. In the distance, he could hear the rumbling of rushing water—the sound of the meltwater and rainwater merging.