HLM -Chapter 829 The Storm Strikes

Lunch was teriyaki eel rice, and he smeared eel blood on the bottom of a basin. After drying it, he set traps in the yard to catch the bats.

Of course, he could have used the sandbox to capture the bats, but that wouldn’t work—everyone was already paying attention to the bat problem. If he suddenly caught them all without reason, it would arouse suspicion.

And killing the bats was out of the question. Wang Bo wasn’t that ruthless.

Still, even with his soft heart, by evening he wanted to strangle whoever spread the rumor that eel-blood could attract bats. Maybe eel blood and snakehead fish blood were too different—whatever the case, he didn’t catch a single bat all afternoon.

This made Wang Bo furious. When he set the traps at noon, the bats had stared at him the whole time as if watching a fool. Now he felt like he really had been foolish and naïve.

“Maybe the bats were looking down on me,” Wang Bo complained to Eva that night.

Eva couldn’t stop laughing. Wang Bo, embarrassed and angry, snapped, “What are you laughing at? Stop laughing and help me think of a way to deal with those bats!”

Eva comforted him: “When I studied Chinese, I learned a saying: When the cart reaches the mountain, there will be a way through. So when you face difficulties, you don’t need to be so anxious…”

“Does that mean if I wait a while, the problem will solve itself?”

Eva smiled. “No. But you’ll find that the problems you face will get more and more numerous—and more difficult. By then, this won’t seem like a big one at all.”

It was meant as a joke, but the next morning Wang Bo woke up, ready to go jogging, looked outside, and immediately felt his heart drop.

The weather had changed.

Since late October, New Zealand’s weather had been great—sunny skies, endless blue, bright sunshine.

But now the sky was dark and gloomy. Thick black clouds stretched across the horizon, as if hanging low in the air, pressing down on everyone.

The clouds around the castle were denser and closer than usual, and the humidity had soared.

As for the cause, Wang Bo easily guessed it—a hurricane was about to make landfall.

News of Hurricane Lorina had spread across New Zealand long ago. On Halloween night, Gerald had reminded him that the town had received a strong wind warning from the National Meteorological Center.

But at that time, it was said the hurricane would need at least 4–5 days before reaching Sunset Town, so Wang Bo hadn’t cared much.

The last two days, he also hadn’t cared, because the hurricane had stayed offshore causing trouble at sea, never quite reaching Christchurch or moving south to Sunset Town.

But this hurricane had a mind of its own—once it landed, it moved far faster than the meteorologists predicted. It tore through Christchurch during the night and reached Sunset Town by morning.

New Zealand’s government was honest, but their efficiency… wasn’t great.

Christchurch was busy with its own disaster relief efforts and didn’t notify the regions further south. Perhaps the big cities got the news, but the small towns didn’t.

Wang Bo had slept poorly last night, worrying only about the bats. He had assumed the big cities ahead would shield them, and any issues would be reported to him in advance.

Unfortunately, he had imagined reality far too beautifully.

The ocean cyclone was now sweeping across the land. In the early morning, the sky was merely dark and oppressive—but by late morning, strong winds had begun howling through the town.

After arriving at work, Wang Bo immediately ordered all shops closed, schools suspended, and highways blocked. The little kids were thrilled—after arriving at school, they were immediately told to go back home.

Then a group of children hopped and skipped away shouting, “The hurricane is coming! It’s going to blow the kids away!” They gleefully ran home.

After issuing orders, Wang Bo went to check on the Māori village. Māori homes, often made of wooden planks and hay, handled earthquakes well but were awful against hurricanes.

Atulu and Granny Otutu were leading the clan in reinforcing the houses. Fortunately, the town’s construction had continued nonstop, and there were plentiful bricks and soil nearby. They used whatever materials they could find, working quickly.

The sky grew darker. Bowen called Wang Bo: “Set up a roadblock on Highway 8, boss. The weather is terrible—once the rain and storm hit, cars on the road will be destroyed!”

“Last night, wind speeds on the sea reached level 16! The national oil ***** was damaged! Several ships in Christchurch Port were wrecked! The worst one had its deck containers blown away!”

Wang Bo asked steadily, “Damn it—tell me, what wind force are we expecting here?”

The maximum level of wind speed was 17. The sea usually suffered the worst. Even level 14 winds were terrifying—waves up to 16 meters, enough to crush ordinary ships.

On land, mountains and trees weakened the winds, so Wang Bo hoped that by the time the hurricane reached Sunset Town, it would be a gentle breeze and drizzle.

Of course, he was dreaming.

Bowen said helplessly, “According to the meteorological models, the wind here will be around level 10 to level 11.”

Even though he had mentally prepared himself, Wang Bo was still shocked. “Over level 10? Why is the wind so strong this time?”

Level 10 winds could flip houses. Level 11 winds could uproot entire trees.

Bowen replied, “Christchurch is already experiencing level 11 winds. It’s not that the hurricane is unusually strong—it’s just moving too fast, so it’s losing very little strength as it travels.”

Wang Bo hung up, hurriedly patted Atulu’s shoulder, and said, “Where is the strongest structure in your settlement?”

Atulu replied naturally, “The Marae.”

The Marae was the wide courtyard in front of the meeting hall. Last year, Wang Bo had attended their tribe’s Hāngī feast there.

He nodded. “Good. Bring everyone to the Marae. Forget the ordinary houses.”

Atulu had some wits. He immediately reacted. “The hurricane is that bad? Didn’t they say level 7 or 8?”

“No. It may exceed level 10,” Wang Bo said gravely.

Atulu exploded in anger. “What are those fools at the meteorological station doing? Level 10 winds? And they tell us it’s level 7 or 8?!”

It wasn’t really the meteorologists’ fault—they weren’t gods. They followed scientific models, but hurricanes and earthquakes loved breaking the rules, so occasional errors were understandable.

“Now’s not the time to complain. Hurry and gather your people!”

Atulu roared, “I’m going! Everyone follow me! Tell the others to go to the Marae! Don’t pack anything—just go!”

Wang Bo nodded. “Good. You’re right. Lives come first right now—don’t care about property!”

Atulu gave a bitter smile. “No, boss… I know my people. Other than clothes, blankets, and pots, they barely own any property at all!”