Legend of the chosen ones: Beyond Destiny

Chapter 1136 - 582: Torrential Deluge

It is instinctual for people to seek a way out. When the flood strikes, few sit and wait for death. People around have instinctively gathered toward the church, flowing continuously.

The hall, now full of holes, is almost too crowded to enter, with people even clinging densely to the rooftop.

In the darkness, only two flickering lights were flashing.

On the steps at the entrance, amidst the howling wind and pouring rain, Elder Long Ge sat in a wheelchair, his withered hands gripping the railing tightly, almost out of strength.

His disordered white hair clung to his face, so disheveled.

The water level, the water level is still rising continuously.

In less than half a minute, it's risen another step...

At this moment, seeing the roaring convoy approaching, that stern and gloomy face twitched a couple of times, as if finally breathing a sigh of relief.

"Rescue, rescue is here!!!"

The cries of surprise rang out, heads moved instantly, and the crowd inside the church surged again, flocking to the door, regardless of how the church members tried to maintain order.

Even before the vehicles had stopped, someone had already jumped down from above, thrashing in the waist-deep muddy water, trying to climb into the truck bed under the tarp.

The tide of people surged.

The last vestige of order completely collapsed.

"Don't scramble! Don't scramble!" A young nun blocked the door, shouting hoarsely: "Let the children get on the vehicles first, let…"

Before she could finish, she was shoved aside, almost swallowed by the crowd, trampled.

A withered hand reached out and pulled her out.

Elder Long Ge.

Inconceivably, there was still such strength remaining in his disabled body, one hand gripping the decaying railing, the other pulling her up from the ground.

Other members were still shouting, but it was already useless.

With the path to survival ahead, no one cared about order anymore.

Scrambling to squeeze into the truck bed.

Then immediately… a mechanical giant hand reached out, gripping the neck of the burly man who led the push and shoved forward.

Like picking up a little chicken.

In front of everyone, swinging, gathering strength, then…

Throwing!

Boom!

The muddy water churned suddenly, splashing waves.

Under the bright lights, a civilian version of the Peacekeeping Cat walked out from the carriage, with red lights and safety symbols flashing on the top screen, a loud speaker blaring, beginning to repeat the church members' words.

Bam!

Yan Fei climbed onto the roof, unthinkingly raised his hand, and fired a shot into the air.

Then, expressionlessly pointed to those faces still trying to climb up, warning in fluent Central Earth language: "If you don't understand human language, you can try a bullet.

I'm not from the church."

Some doubted, trying to push up again, but then, a loud noise was heard, forehead, the burning pain spreading, a bullet grazed overhead, slicing the scalp, blood gushing like a spring.

Throughout, Yan Fei remained expressionless, only his eyes, firmly fixed on those few faces squeezed to the front, showing no weakness, no mercy.

Until, under the threat of the gun, those trying to rush up finally made way.

The reluctant were pushed back, watching as one child after another was held by church members and sent onto the vehicles, sensing the water level rising once more, growing more anxious.

Amidst the chaos, someone shrieked hoarsely.

"The church is killing us! The church is going to abandon us!"

Others shouted loudly: "Don't believe them, the church wants to sell us off!"

The crowd stirred for a moment, but then, returned to calm.

No one paid attention, and no one would believe.

The name of Chongguang Church was the answer.

Among those gradually weak cries, Elder Long Ge's face remained stern, heedless, long accustomed to it.

If one cannot accept the wickedness of human nature, how can one become a baptized member of the church?

Just a few doubts, nothing more.

Compared to the looming flood, it's not worth mentioning.

Yet, in the brief silence, the distant loud noise grew even louder, causing everyone to instinctively shrink their necks, lower their heads in fear.

It was gunfire.

From the direction of the city...

Long Ge froze for a moment, then, as if understanding something.

Gripping the wheelchair's armrests tightly

He closed his eyes.

"Go, quickly go."

His lips moved slightly, struggling to force a smile, waving toward Yan Fei: "First move the children over, second batch move the elderly and disabled, the church members and I will go last."

Yan Fei didn't hesitate, tapped the carriage, and immediately, the truck started, winding away.

And in the distance, another batch of trucks Ji Jue had just borrowed from Huan Yu Heavy Industry was already on the way, amidst the dark mud, the crying, wailing, and cursing, unceasing.

Yan Fei remained silent, not uttering a word.

When the first batch of evacuees reached the Coastal factory, Old Gou had already had the employees left at the plant set up heaters.

Unable to find enough beds, they could only lay moisture-proof cloth on the ground.

In the factory area, the queue of Peacekeeping Cats used for defense unloaded the towering piles of rescue supplies from the vehicles, the crying or numb children sent into a temporarily cleared factory building.

Gradually chaotic.

The second batch transferred over comprised of patients, medicines, and doctors from the Tower City Jici Hospital, amidst the chaos, under the doctors' direction, some semblance of order slowly emerged.

Old Gou, coordinating with the leading dean, took note of urgently needed supplies, while directing the factory workers to urgently draw over electric wires, the medical equipment's power needs were immense.

Elder Long Ge and his assistant were the last batch to be transported over.

Luckily, decisive on the spot.

The flood had risen to the second floor by now, and the truck was almost unable to move.

Outside the city in the mud pond, there was chaos, and the factory wasn't much better off, a mess with constant cries and shouts.

Worse still, the wind was intensifying, and the rainfall hadn't decreased.

This typhoon, even though it barely grazed the edge of Tower City, would take at least four or five days to pass. In Ji Jue's perception, the true Heavenly Calamity hadn't even arrived yet...

Elder Longge's wheelchair was lost. Now wearing two clumsy prosthetic legs, he hobbled towards Ji Jue with crutches.

Mudwater kept dripping from his clothes, making him look wretched.

With his usually stern face, he tried hard to squeeze out a smile.

"Mr. Ji, could you..."

Ji Jue raised his hand, interrupting him, "It's just a matter of having a few more mouths to feed. I've stored up quite a few compressed biscuits, more than we can use. Until the typhoon passes, please have the church stay here at least we've got water and electricity.

No need to say thank you, Elder."

Longge was silent for a moment, with a bitter and sorrowful smile appearing on his face, "Because apart from gratitude, I have nothing to offer you."

"It should be me who should repay the church,"

Ji Jue smiled, "Let's consider it Coast's payback to Chongguang Church. If you receive goodness, you must repay it. Isn't this what you taught me as the church's principle?"

"I have learned."

Longge forced a smile, finally breathing a sigh of relief, nearly unable to stand without Ji Jue's support. Soon, a wheelchair was brought over by Peacekeeping Cat.

"I remember I donated prosthetics to the church?" Ji Jue frowned. "Were they embezzled?"

"No, I sold them, sorry."

Longge awkwardly patted his bare knee, "Everywhere there's a need, a lot of places need money, and wheelchairs are quite convenient."

"It's okay."

Ji Jue shook his head indifferently, thought for a moment, and suddenly said, "Since Coast can't open the market for a while, I'll entrust the church to help sell the exoskeleton prosthetics. It saves me some trouble. It won't earn much, but at least it's some income."

The elder hesitated for a moment and resolutely nodded:

"Then I won't refuse."

The face? What do you need a face for? Is having a face useful?

Everywhere there's a gap. After this typhoon, there's almost no money left to rebuild the church, at least there's some income to count on.

Moreover, the church refuses sponsorship only to avoid being used as a scapegoat by military enterprises, not wanting to associate with them.

Coastal Industry, the church also holds shares, and when Old Deng brings up the exoskeleton prosthetics project and promotion, he can't help but boast about it—clean and straightforward money, why push it away?

Such things are not hard to sell in Central Earth.

Remarkably, a hint of a smile appeared on that stern, somber face.

It vanished in a flash.

A shouting voice rang out.

At the entrance of the factory, a limping figure walked in, the last disaster victim sent by the final car. The man's skin was dark, weathered by the sun, now covered in mud, yet unable to suppress his smile.

He had random plastic bags tied around his waist, as if his entire possessions were there.

His arms full of something, swollen, unable to see what he was holding.

Faint glimpses of colorful plastic cradled carefully in his arms.

Like it was New Year's, he shouted another name, looking around, repeating it time and again, yet no one answered. He paused in confusion.

He froze.

Starting to ask each church member, with repeated shakes of the head, his spine gradually hunched, staggering.

Until, brought to a corner by a sympathetic member.

Among the open ground at the factory's edge, beneath ragged cloth lies something, faintly moving, but no longer stirring.

He stood in a daze.

Gathered his courage, lifting the cloth, yet dared not look.

Only those in his arms, the few packs of snacks picked up at the risk of his life, finally fell to the ground.

Ji Jue withdrew his gaze, having no desire to see more.

Crying erupted, another cry, heart-wrenching, submerged in the clamor, unnoticed.

Then, Ji Jue realized, not knowing when... every where there was crying already.

Far away yet near.

A wretched, skinny woman squeezed past the church members' blockade, grabbing Elder Longge's clothes, kneeling on the ground, pleading with cries, it wasn't the mainstream Central Earth language but heavily accented dialect, spoken so fast Ji Jue couldn't make it out.

Only seeing the tracks of tears washed from the mud on her face.

No more tears left to shed.

Longge listened silently, and after a while, shook his head helplessly, and so, the woman collapsed on the ground, like an empty shell, no strength left to struggle.

"What happened?" Ji Jue asked.

Elder Longge hesitated for a moment, sighed hoarsely, "Her son owed money, was taken away, locked up in a factory to work... the kind... the church can't get involved..."

In Tower City's slum, where the lowest and dirtiest mixed together, it's a mess, everything was there.

Including illegal drug production lines.

"She said her son was locked in the basement, someone escaped and saw him," Longge hesitated for a moment but spoke frankly, "By now, probably already..."

It's easy to imagine, when the flood hit, those drug dealers escaping wouldn't bother about the slaves locked in the basement.

"...I understand."

Ji Jue thought for a moment, nodded and said, "I'm quite free right now, I might as well go take a look; leave it to me."

The elder was about to speak again but held back, no longer objecting.

After understanding the specific location, Ji Jue turned and pushed the door open, racing against time, making the most of it.

Perhaps there's still hope, perhaps there's still a chance, perhaps there isn't.

He just wanted to go out, get some air.

Do anything.

Except, he didn't want to hear the cries anymore...