There can't be a Harvest Moon in the RimWorld.

"Why us? Let's agree on that first."

Miss Elliott downed the water in her glass in one gulp and answered listlessly.

Boss Dart said mysteriously, "The good news is that the shipping route to Mineral Town will be suspended for the next two days."

Miss Elliott and I immediately smiled with a mixture of surprise and relief upon hearing this, as if being on the list of the top 100 assassins was a comforting prospect.

In the tavern, only Stuart was completely baffled: "Huh? Why is a suspension of flights good news?"

Miss Elliott immediately replied, "Because...because we arrived in town before the ships stopped sailing!"

Quick-witted!

Or maybe you're this silly boy's fiancée!

Well, it's no wonder the boss said it was good news for "us"—some people are just so lucky, it's like even God is on their side. Luck is part of ability, no one would disagree with that, right?

But I soon realized something was wrong.

Good news arrives so suddenly, which often means bad news will also come unexpectedly.

"Boss, what's the bad news? With all the flights suspended, how are the town's residents going to eat, drink, and get by? If you dare say there's plenty of cow dung, I'll argue with you!"

Before I could interrupt, Boss Dart sighed slightly and glanced at the TV with a worried look. "Take your TV to Kaina later. He gave up his room upstairs and will be staying with Zack for the next couple of days."

I almost forgot about that!

Great!

"Boss, these are clearly two great things!" I exclaimed.

Mr. Dart glanced at the television again and finally told us what he wanted to tell us.

"Ten minutes before you returned, the Federal Overseas Television station broadcast a weather forecast that a powerful tropical storm was approaching tonight, with its front heading straight for Mineral Town, which caused all flight routes to be suspended."

Mr. Dart stared at the two outsiders with a serious expression, then glanced at me out of the corner of his eye.

"No matter what happens tonight, don't go out and wander around..."

Chapter 595 Tropical Storm

Canned yellow peaches have a shelf life of 15 months, cola should be consumed within 24 hours of opening, hickeys usually disappear in about a week, and it seems that everything has an expiration date after three months of being together.

If the world were like this, it would be so boring. So some things that are not governed by any rules have emerged, causing many unexpected events to occur in things that are developing in an orderly manner—for example, I went home early to avoid the rain, but unknowingly became a flood relief worker.

"Go out? Go out of the gate of hell!"

As I said those words, I was doing everything I could to move the furniture in my house, trying to block the door from collapsing in the strong wind.

…………

After receiving the weather warning from Boss Date, I rushed back to the ranch and prepared to withstand the natural disaster.

When I brought back the TV I bought, I saw Zack and Kay carrying sandbags and running busily on the beach. They filled the sand with the bags left over from packing the goods, building a breakwater that was narrow at the top and wide at the bottom, carefully protecting Zack's little house by the sea.

This house originally belonged to the Kay family.

I was somewhat dismissive of their behavior. After all, I've weathered many storms. In the parallel world's small town, even the continuous torrential rain and dark clouds didn't destroy the ranch. Unless another sudden mudslide kills me, there's absolutely no way I could survive...

Uh... that sentence seems like a flag, so let's not mention it...

It's alright, it's alright. We still need to be scientific. Not everyone is like Liu Xiu, a chosen one of the world, who can cast the Great Meteorite Technique instantly.

Debris flows are formed when torrential rain or floods saturate and dilute loose, sandy soil on mountainsides, creating a torrent. For a mudslide to reach the scale that could wipe me out, it would require at least a week of sustained rainfall, but that shouldn't be a problem.

But this incident reminded me that a tropical storm could very well destroy my ranch's cash crops. So, as someone who could go bankrupt and become a landless farmer at any moment, I immediately returned to the ranch and began harvesting the crops under the increasingly gloomy, leaden clouds. Even if they weren't fully ripe, it was better than nothing.

After harvesting all sorts of crops, I inspected the warehouse that Gotz Construction Co., Ltd. was responsible for constructing, checking all the places that might be damaged by wind and rain, and further reinforcing them with the wooden planks and bricks in the warehouse.

In the midst of the hectic work, a tense atmosphere quietly spread, as if I were truly facing a powerful, unseen terror, and was bravely trying to stop the wheels of a car.

But logic told me that this tropical storm shouldn't have too much of an impact, so when the first large raindrop fell to the ground under the cover of night, accompanied by a strong westerly wind, I quickly went back to my little house, sat at the desk by the window, and looked at the dark sky.

The sweltering wind was stirred by an invisible force, flowing rapidly through this seemingly enclosed world. The eastern sky was completely dark, and the ends of heaven and earth were in chaos. The low-hanging clouds seemed within reach, making even breathing difficult.

To the west, the faint glow of the setting sun cast its last rays, as dim as a lone lamp in a boat in the night rain. Only a trace remained in the gaps of the leaden clouds, allowing me to barely discern the end of the tropical storm.

I closed my eyes, and the slight trembling of the stained glass windows due to the wind and rain reached my ears. I could discern the whistling sound of the air turbulently moving through it. Thinking about it, I could almost feel the violently swirling clouds overhead, scattering tons of murky rain that fell to the ground and quickly soaked the world.

This is the first time I've encountered such a drastically changing weather disaster since I came to Mineral Town.

Amidst the chaotic and indistinct scene outside, the electrical equipment inside the house at night seemed especially precious. The bright lights illuminated every corner of the room, creating a warm and comfortable atmosphere compared to the bleak wind and rain outside, becoming an important solace for me when I was alone in my corner.

I spent some time connecting the TV to see if my new TV would work properly—it's only 24 inches at most, and the technology is so outdated that I'm worried it won't be able to receive any signals.

Then it turned out that my worries were justified, because on stormy days when no antenna was installed, the TV screen was filled with static.

With nothing to do, I lay down, secretly hoping that when I woke up tomorrow morning, I would still see that sunny, clear town after the rain.

…………

The strange noise and chaotic collisions pounded on my nerves like hammers.

It was as if a worker had pressed the switch on a machine tool, and the entire production line roared and made a deafening noise, instantly filling all five senses with annoying disturbances.

I was woken up in the early hours of the morning by howling winds throughout the room. Half-asleep, I discovered in the darkness that the door, which had been locked, had been blown open by the hurricane and was now wide open, letting the wind and rain lash in unimpeded.

Paper scraps were flying everywhere, and debris was rolling all over the ground. As the wind howled, the wooden door slammed against the wall at a steady pace, one thud after another.

And behind the door was where I placed that eerie magic mirror...

It took me a few seconds to process what was happening before I leaped out of bed like a cheetah, reaching out to block the door of the magic mirror from crashing down again, fearing that the alchemical artifact that sealed the ghosts would be shattered, releasing those ragged, fanged, and vengeful spirits.

Fortunately, the mirror, reforged from the Philosopher's Stone, was exceptionally sturdy. Despite being struck for a long time, it didn't even leave a crack, remaining unmoved and radiating a cold light, as if it were cast from refined iron.

As I approached the wide-open door, I immediately felt a bone-chilling cold. The turbulent wind and rain seeped in, and the chaotic scene outside was horrifying, making me wonder if the house could withstand such revelry without being reduced to ruins.

"The rain wasn't this heavy the day Yiping was kicked out of the Lu family..."

I grabbed the doorknob and pushed backward, trying to close the door again. But the latch was completely torn off, and there was no longer any structure to hold it shut. With each gust of wind, I felt as if a giant was trying to push the door open with its thick fingers.

Unfortunately, after the warehouse was built, I moved all the common stone and timber there, so there was nothing left in the house to repair the door. I could only try to find a way to block the door in the meantime.

After trying all the tables, chairs, and benches without success, I looked around the house and finally saw the heaviest piece of furniture in the house—a metal hibernation pod. I immediately freed my hand and pushed the furniture behind the door, firmly blocking the wooden door, which finally stopped the howling wind in the house.

Still shaken, I looked at the strong winds outside. Had a tropical storm made landfall right here? It seemed like many trees on the ranch had been broken, indicating that the wind was much stronger than I had expected.

Not only that, but the occasional flashes of lightning overhead also worried me that broken wood and branches could become a fire hazard, escalating into a major disaster as the rain subsided. I only regretted not having stockpiled a few boxes of comics, which could have been invaluable at this moment—as everyone knows, Boruto comics are excellent non-flammable materials, commonly used for fire prevention in public areas, and are an excellent guarantee for people's safety.

The wind and rain outside wouldn't stop anytime soon, and the mess inside would take time to clean up. I looked out the window at the magnificent view, sighed, and decided not to sleep for now. I would stay awake tonight to guard against other problems.

To prevent a short circuit, I quickly cut off the power to the house, keeping the entire room dark.

I stood there, lost in thought, facing the gloomy window, feeling as if I were melting into the thick darkness. Then, through the old glass panes of the window, I felt that it was even darker outside, as if the darkness was so profound that nothing existed.

I approached the window in surprise, only to be startled to see a distorted, pale face obscuring everything, pressed against the window, eyes wide open, staring directly into the room, right in front of me...

Chapter 596 ****** Officially Intervenes in the Investigation

The wind and rain outside seemed endless, and the sparse trees in the forest swayed in the cold rain. A cold mist rose slowly from the ground outside, touching the land with its damp, cold hands and taking away the warmth hidden within.

Large raindrops shattered against the window frame, turning into a mist that engulfed the vast scene before me. Amidst the blur and haze, I stared speechlessly at a distorted white face, utterly bewildered.

A bolt of lightning flashed past, my pupils dilated in shock, my eyes still searching for the indescribable expression on that strange face. But the strange face opposite me was like an illusion suddenly pierced at the edge of a dream, vanishing into the air of reality the moment I awoke from my deep sleep...

I immediately realized that I had encountered a similar scene just a couple of days ago, and these troublesome creatures were being stored in the Death Mirror, continuing their difficult predicament of being neither alive nor dead.

So I subconsciously looked at the huge old-fashioned full-length mirror, but the next moment, amidst the exceptionally noisy environment, an even more jarring knocking sound was added—it was less of a knock and more of a sound of someone frantically scratching with their fingernails and hastily banging their head against the wooden door.

Imagine yourself in an empty, dark room, surrounded by the overwhelming power of nature. As an ordinary person, you can only shiver under the protection of a few roof tiles that offer shelter from the wind and rain. Suddenly, an unknown force silently attacks, attempting to break down the door of your hiding place...

Is it a messenger of death in the night? A funeral procession in the cold rain? Or an ancient phantom that has never left the dark and fearful memories?

All I know is that such terrifying sounds are not the work of a distinguished guest who comes with goodwill and warm wine; they only try to visit unsuspecting dreamers in the rainy night, pulling them out of their anxious darkness and leading them into the gloomy forest and the cold, hard grave bricks...

When the knocking abruptly stopped, I looked out the window again and saw a pale, distorted face. But the color in this face was even fainter, swaying eerily in the darkness like a lantern floating in mid-air, reminding me of the paper figures in funeral processions that had been forgotten to be powdered.

If it were an ordinary person, they would probably have been terrified by the scene outside by now, and they wouldn't have the courage to bring heavy objects to block the door, using a loaded gun in their hand to mask their inner fear.

But instead of dodging, my subconscious reaction was to see the direction of the thing outside the window. My right hand, wielding an Orichalcum gauntlet, shattered the fragile stained-glass window without mercy. The explosive force crossed the chasm in my mind and then precisely grabbed the creature outside the window by the neck.

The next second, I saw that pale, indifferent, strange face. After I grabbed it, it looked like a rooster with its neck being squeezed, its head tilted to one side, comically resembling a talented scholar who was about to sell himself to bury his entire family, just like Tang Bohu…

“Marcus…Sheriff…”

Upon hearing that voice, I realized that the neck in my hand was no different from the necks of countless people I had strangled, and even slightly better in feel, retaining the weakness that only a pampered person would have.

Even though the sound was unfamiliar and faint, mixed in with the rain, it allowed me to follow a sliver of memory from the daytime and find its source...

"Stuart?!"

Holy crap, what are you doing, standing at the door pretending to be a ghost and trying to scare me in the middle of the night?! You're lucky I didn't punch you to death!

Stuart, standing outside the door, felt the pressure on his neck ease, and his hoarse voice returned to its original deep tone as he waved his hands, wielding French military force to demonstrate his harmlessness.

"Sheriff... let go first, I need to talk to you..."

Once I confirmed the other person's identity, I quickly let go. I looked at the broken window with heartache, as the wind and rain poured into the room through the gap without any obstruction. At the same time, I hurriedly moved the hibernation pod blocking the door and opened a crack in the door large enough for Stuart to enter.

This damned stranger was soaked and muddy, looking like Peppa Pig pulled out of a mud pit. His once meticulously styled hair was now limp and plastered to his head, inadvertently revealing the unsustainable state of his hair on the top of his head.

Perhaps he had been wandering in the wind and rain for too long, the cold wind and torrential rain had dried up his body temperature, so Stewart was pale and weak, his deep features and tall stature highlighting his exhaustion and unsteadiness.

So the strange face I saw was just that this guy was frozen silly, resulting in a bloodless face and a stiff expression—which is understandable, since no one can accurately control their expression after being soaked in cold water for so long, so it would appear distorted and stiff.

"Then why did you scare me by standing outside the window in the pitch black?"

I helped him into the house and continued to question him angrily.

Stewart, shivering and covered in mud, splattered my floor with every step he took.

"Sheriff... how was I supposed to know that you would be staring at me through the window in the middle of the night without turning on the lights... I'm the one who should be scared!"

Stuart curled up in frustration, trying to revive his nearly stiff body by trembling.

After hearing what he said, I felt a little embarrassed. Putting myself in his shoes, it's definitely scarier to be in a dark room watching others than to have someone watching you at the door in the middle of the night…

But I wasn't going to back down, so I pressed on, "Then why did you suddenly disappear and start scratching at the door to scare me?"

Stuart felt even more aggrieved upon hearing this, and pointed shakily out the window, saying, "Did I just suddenly disappear? I was so scared that I backed away and fell into the mud! I guessed you were inside, Sheriff, which is why I knocked and called out anxiously, but you didn't answer me..."

Impossible! I only heard you scratching at the door, I didn't hear anyone shouting at all...

Hmm... In this stormy weather, it seems like sound really can't get in; only physical objects can make a sound? So before breaking the window, all I could hear was the sound of the door being banged on, while his shouts were completely drowned out by the downpour.