425: Two hundred eighty-two.
The storm is coming 425: Two hundred eighty-two.
The storm is coming Bang Bang Bang Bang Bang——
The rhythmic hammering of wooden boards resonated from behind the walls of the corridor.
The Long House seemed to tremble slightly in fear, stirring ripples in the water accumulated in the barrels.
Dimly lit oil lamps hung in the corridor, voices conversing faintly traveled from within the rooms to the hallway.
A piercing wailing noise swept across the empty corners of the streets.
Several children and youths gathered behind the door, standing on sandbags, the shorter ones tiptoeing to peer through the cracks in the wooden door.
The oppressive sky and dim streets suggested that night was approaching.
Pitter-patter, raindrops as large as small insects fell.
Carried by the strong wind, empty cans clattered as they rolled along.
Commuters struggled against the fierce winds, walking home late.
Menacing dark clouds enveloped Belfast, concealing flashes of purple lightning.
The hammering on the boards ceased.
Suddenly, a flash of white light tore through the darkness, illuminating the entire city.
As it vanished, a burst of thunder exploded overhead in the urban sky.
A few children screamed in fright and ran toward their homes, causing a commotion.
A resident, carrying a few wooden boards and a hammer hanging at his waist, approached and quickly stepped aside, lifting the boards to avoid the rushing children.
Shaking his head in resignation, he reached the door and set down some planks to continue boarding up the door where gaps were visible.
The rhythmic hammering resumed.
Lu Li, having taken off his dirty, wet wool coat and started to unbutton his shirt, stepped out of the bedroom and closed the partially open door.
The sound of running in the corridor faded.
The steady light of the oil lamp on the desk illuminated Anna, who stood by the window, gazing at the impending storm outside, her pale, translucent cheeks reflected on the glass.
Lu Li moved to the desk, removed the burnt matchstick clutched by the sculpture, rubbed off the charred marks on its fingertips, embraced the sculpture by the door, and returned to the bedroom to continue changing his clothes.
“How long will the storm last?”
Anna’s gaze followed a staggering pedestrian until he disappeared around the corner.
Lu Li’s voice came from the bedroom, “Three to five days, according to the radio.”
Anna pursed her lips, a hint of hesitation crossing her indifferent crimson eyes.
She was worried about Annie’s condition and whether she could survive the storm.
However, she couldn’t let Lu Li risk running out of the city during the storm.
The rustling in the bedroom ceased, and a figure emerged from it.
Anna’s gaze fell on the reflection in the window, then froze.
“What are you going to do?”
She saw Lu Li dressed in a new set of clothes.
Lu Li fastened his black tie, looked up, and said to Anna, “Going to the shelter.”
After securing a wooden board, the carpenter bent down to pick up another.
He suddenly noticed his shadow extending forward and turned around, “Mr.
Luli, are you going out?
The storm is about to hit.”
Lu Li, wearing a raincoat and carrying an oil lamp, “I’ll be careful.”
I’ll open the door for you.”
The carpenter hurriedly moved the sandbags behind the door, grasped the door bolt, and looked back at Lu Li.
“Thank you.” Lu Li put on his hood.
The carpenter lifted the latch, and a surge of force came from behind the door.
The damp wind rushed into the corridor with eager ferocity.
The oil lamp creaked and swayed.
Lu Li clutched the edge of his hood to keep it from being blown off by the wind.
Stepping over a sandbag, Lu Li lowered his head and walked onto the storm-tossed street, while the wooden door with its crooked planks was laboriously closed and bolted behind him by the carpenter.
Only a few hurried figures crossed the otherwise deserted street.
Ominous clouds had completely enveloped Belfast, with only a pale layer of overcast remaining on the mountain’s backside, making it appear as though an unspeakable being had surfaced from the abyssal depths of the ocean to touch the land.
Taking advantage of the lull before the storm, Lu Li reached the carriage station.
Entering the scent-filled establishment of hay and horse manure, the clerk regretfully told Lu Li, “I’m sorry, sir, but we can’t offer carriages in this kind of weather.”
“What if I pay more?”
The clerk, looking troubled, said, “The weather is too bad.
Unless you’re willing to pay half again the usual price and cover any injuries or illnesses the horses might suffer.”
Buying the four Deep Sea Stones had drained both the fifty thousand Shillings the Baron had given him and all of Lu Li’s savings.
Now all he had left was an investigator’s weekly salary of 700 Shillings.
However, a carriage was essential; he still needed to retrieve the custom-made Distiller from the old craftsman and transport the four Deep Sea Stones stored on Elm Street to the cliff top.
After paying the rent and waiting a few minutes, as the rain outside intensified, the clerk led a crudely caped carriage out onto the street.
“The hay on the carriage can be fed to the horse in the evening and morning,” the clerk said, as was customary.
Taking the reins, Lu Li climbed onto the carriage, secured the oil lamp to the wooden board beside him, and drove off.
The horse’s rain cape flapped wildly, and Lu Li’s hood was blown off by the wind.
Wind poured into the carriage, producing a mournful howl that abruptly stopped after a few seconds.
It continued to ravage the streets but could no longer affect the carriage.
Anna used her powers to protect the carriage from the storm.
Normally, this might have attracted the attention of Exorcists, but the streets were nearly devoid of pedestrians now.
The rain grew heavier, and the light and figures in the windows along the streets turned hazy.
A storm that darkened the sky engulfed the entire city, with the thunder that had started sporadically now booming continuously, occasionally cracking with terrifying claps.
This dreadful weather reminded Lu Li of the hurricane he encountered in Shadow Swamp, though it wasn’t as despairing.
The door trembled uneasily.
With nowhere to set foot in the clutter-filled depths of the small cabin, a figure raised his head.
Setting down the ax handle he was fitting, the old craftsman shuffled to the door.
The wind surged into the room, lifting the old man’s clothes and revealing his wrinkly belly.
“I thought only creditors came knocking in this kind of weather.”
The old craftsman turned and walked back, followed inside and the door closed behind by Lu Li.
The old craftsman dragged out three completed Distillers from the clutter, pointing to them, “Here are your Distillers.
If you want more to be made—”
The old craftsman paused, seeming to ponder, “What do you need so many of these for?”
“I have no reason to refuse.” The old craftsman peered deeply at Lu Li, said nothing more, and returned to his desk to continue fitting the ax handle by the oil lamp.
Lu Li picked up the three Distillers, “I’ll pay you next time I come.”
The old craftsman, without lifting his head, waved his hand to show he understood.
Taking the distillers, Lu Li left the cabin, with Anna closing the door behind him.
After a brief pause, the carriage continued on its way.
Some time later, Anna suddenly alerted Lu Li, “There’s a spirit nearby, right ahead.”
Lu Li looked in the direction Anna pointed toward.
By the roadside, beneath a streetlamp, stood a semi-transparent figure in a long dress.
Sensing the approaching carriage, the spirit lifted her head, revealing a confused face.
Lu Li shifted his gaze away, and on the streetlamp, he noticed a wet, torn missing person’s poster.
There was her picture.