Vol. 14 [Thunderstruck]

Jim Tang Ning is Robert Tang Ning's Grandfather.

He once soared through the skies, crossed the seas, and participated in World War II.

He started from the most basic naval officer and worked his way up through the submarine force, amphibious forces, maritime supply support forces, and marine corps.

Sadly, the once- Jim lost a leg, an arm, and an eye while defending his country. His right ear was permanently deafened by the roar of gunfire, and he is now Jim with a white beard and a wrinkled face.

He lived in the Alexanderhouse sanatorium, spending his days having fun with his equally aged comrades.

If you get up early enough, you can see this elder among elders basking in the sun at 6:30 in the morning, lying on the platform of the large stone sculpture in the sanatorium. However, this year's terrible weather has reignited the powder keg in Jim's heart that had been extinguished for more than seventy years.

Perhaps when you go to visit your wealthy distant relatives in London, you can hear the sailor's thunderous shouts from more than 500 meters away as you approach the gate of the sanatorium.

"Fuck you, you son of a bitch! I fucking swear!"

A burly old sailor, as strong as an ox, burst out of the red door of the recreation room, leaning on a cane in one hand and holding a moldy prosthetic eyeball in the other.

He is Jim.

--Fiery temper, so irritable he's practically smoking.

A chilling murderous aura emanated from his remaining left eye; he was over ninety years old, the same age as the Queen of England.

"Penny! Penny! Are you fucking deaf, Penny?!"

He shouted the maid's name, forcefully used his upper arm to lift the prosthetic leg and hold up the prosthetic eye, and vented his anger loudly to the lounges on both sides of the corridor.

"What kind of human suffering is this? Everything is getting moldy! My prosthetic leg, my prosthetic arm, even this eyeball is starting to mold! Damn! Damn! Damn!"

When he couldn't get the maid to come, he would bang on the neighbor's door.

"Feng! Feng! Germany devil! Did you die in Dunkirk? It's already six o'clock! How can someone your age sleep?! Come help me! My eyeballs are moldy! This mold might be contagious! If my dentures get moldy too, how am I supposed to eat? Don't fucking sleep! Get up!"

A grim face, equally aged but extremely obese, emerged from the window.

Good neighbor Banoff von Stein was Jim's comrade-in-arms.

To be more specific, he was an old Germany soldier who was blasted into the water by the shockwave of a cannonball during a naval battle and eventually became a prisoner of the British. In the POW camp, he betrayed his country and began working for the British. He and Jim were close friends.

Now the two have become inseparable, agreeing to be buried in St. James's Park after they die, to be neighbors even in the grave, truly a bond forged in life and death.

At this moment, the fat old man had a smug look on his face, with a thin layer of fine golden hair on his head, and his big blue eyes were full of confusion.

"Where does your energy come from, Jim? It's six in the morning! Penny doesn't start work until nine. According to historical jokes from East and West Germany, she could be pointing her finger at you and cursing your ancestors at 8:59, and then she wouldn't be putting on that businesslike fake smile until nine. Do you understand? Do you get it?"

Jim spat out a mouthful of phlegm onto the porch, a path that everyone would inevitably pass through.

He cursed viciously, "I'm going to find this lazy, inconsiderate wretch some work for! You're all like Big Ben renamed Elizabeth Tower —changing your names every day. I asked you to play tennis, and you said you didn't want to bully disabled people, ha!"

Feng's expression changed, becoming very strange. "Where did you learn all these internet slang terms?"

Jim, beaming with pride, exclaimed, "Hey! You have to keep up with the times! Otherwise, how do you stay young?"

The fat old man remained silent, his lips pursed, looking extremely aggrieved. Reluctantly, he took Jim's prosthetic eyeball, returned to the draftsman's antique workstation, wiped it with a handkerchief, disinfected it with alcohol, lubricated the skin-friendly prosthesis, and finally applied a little Vaseline before asking Jim to bring it closer again.

"Come here, let me see your eye sockets."

When Jim saw the new, clean-looking artificial eyeball, it was as if his body had returned to the age of eighteen. He bent down, almost falling over because of the damp, weak artificial leg. He grabbed the windowsill with one hand and the thick flesh of the fat old man's neck with the other.

"Ouch! Ouch! Ouch! Ouch!" The fat old man's hand trembled, and the prosthetic eyeball rolled out, rolling all the way from the doorway to the street corner, where it bumped into a lady's high heels.

Just as Jim was about to give chase, the fat old man immediately straightened Jim's face and used a cleaning cotton ball to gently wipe the dirt from his comrade's eye sockets.

The cumulonimbus clouds in the sky were layered upon each other, like pieces of cotton candy. They began to turn white, and dawn was approaching.

When Jim was all clean and refreshed, he heard the "clack-clack-clack" of high heels, walked from the street corner into the porch, and reached the window of the sanatorium. There he saw a sexy and hot old lady, hunched over and leaning on a cane, carrying a small Hermes bag, and wearing a golden fishtail skirt studded with three hundred diamonds.

Even though she was nearly eighty-five years old and her face was wrinkled more than a hairless cat, she still had that lively and energetic look.

She had bright red, straight hair, was Scottish, and was also Jim's comrade-in-arms.

Her name is Gloria.

--Gloria Inbats

At the sanatorium, Miss Gloria was everyone's source of joy.

Because she loves to laugh, she smiles at everyone she sees.

Jim turned around with difficulty, forgetting all his complaints, all his dissatisfaction, all his bitterness and pain.

--Sunlight instantly bathed the earth, and the holy light cast from the clouds shone on the red-haired beauty in a dreamlike way.

The concealer for age spots, the rose-colored lipstick on her dry lips, and the shrunken cheeks and drooping eye bags couldn't hide her fiery smile.

In Jim's eyes, little sister Gloria will always be little sister.

Even if she--

--She is now

She now suffers from dementia. She simply holds the round artificial eyeball with her tongue, a terrifying and idiotic smile on her face, and horrifying laughter comes from her throat. Her nimble tongue stirs the fake eyeball, and her twisted and arrogant expression is truly frightening.

"Hehehehehehe! Hehehehe! Hehehehe!"

The fat old man immediately covered his face, unable to bear to look.

Jim casually took his precious watch, then hugged Miss Gloria's cheek and kissed her deeply.

The powerful biopheromones helped the elderly woman regain some of her senses.

"Oh! Oh, oh, oh," Gloria, the older sister, shakily searched for her glasses in her bag, and began to tell Jim about recent events, "Captain, what's the date today?"

"Little Pepper!" Jim raised an eyebrow, wiped the drool from his eyes on his old, dark blue military uniform, and then popped them back into their sockets with a "pop." "I don't even remember what the date is! Just treat it as your birthday!"

Watch Jim's prosthetic eye roll in its socket, like a nimble scanner camera capturing its prey, focusing, and finally aligning with the real eye.

Gloria exclaimed, "Wow! I'm another year older!"

Jim chimed in, "That's right! We've arrived at the honey-sweet age of seventeen!"

Only the fat old man kept muttering, pouting, "I feel like I'm going to mold along with this building—it's like a huge stone cemetery where our bodies slowly rot in coffins, and we won't be buried until we're completely dead."

"Don't say that! Stein! Don't say that!" Jim waved his hands vigorously, like Liverpool's captain Gerrard cheering on his players. "I believe in God's plan! If He doesn't want to take our wretched lives away, then there must be more stories waiting for us to write!"

Gloria suddenly remembered something.

She pulled out her old-fashioned large-screen mobile phone from her pocket, but couldn't remember the password no matter how hard she tried.

Jim kindly reminded him, "It's a birthday."

Gloria: "Whose birthday?"

Jim: "It's your husband's birthday."

Gloria: "Do I have a husband?"

Jim: "511119! I remember it better than you do!"

"Oh, oh, oh!" Gloria, the older sister, entered the correct password and immediately showed him her call log, explaining to Jim, "A Robert Tang Ning called me."

When Jim heard his grandson's name, he immediately perked up, his eyes practically sparkling.

Gloria, still a little dazed, asked, "Is this your nephew? Or your cousin? Is it your son? Or your daughter?"

Jim patiently explained to the hot girl again and again, "He's my grandson! What did he say?"

Older sister Gloria scratched her head, starting to think. Her eyes looked bright, but she couldn't utter a single word. Finally, she truthfully said, "I forgot."

Jim asked again, "Why didn't he call me?"

Gloria: "I forgot."

Jim with love and care, extinguishing the volcano in his heart, and repeatedly kneaded Gloria's hair and scalp as if giving her a rehabilitation massage.

"Think it over carefully! Think it over carefully, Little Chili Pepper!"

Gloria's eyes grew brighter and brighter.

--It was as if she would remain young as long as the captain was there.

Your grandson needs your help! He says he's forgotten how to contact you! He only found my phone number.

Jim frowned and laughed, "Then he's really filial."

Gloria's mind seemed to have been switched on, and she became serious. "Seriously, you little rascal! You're telling me this is serious, that if this doesn't work out, the whole of the United Kingdom will be in trouble!"

Jim curled his lip and spat out another glob of phlegm. "So loud and boisterous, can't you calm down at all? What a joke! Is the whole of the United Kingdom going to be in trouble?"

Gloria, the older sister, held up her phone, looking worried, and said, "Why don't you ask him yourself?"

Jim took the phone and dialed back according to his grandson's call history.

"Hello?!"

"Hello?!"

"Hello? Hello?"

Why is there no sound?

The portly old man leaned against the windowsill and cautiously reminded him, "Captain, you can't hear with your right ear."

Jim immediately cursed, "These electronic devices are getting more and more outdated and cumbersome! Before, when I went out to order a cake, I only needed to bring the money. Now I have to scan a QR code, link my ID card and driver's license—and then they ask if I want to apply for a credit card. The phone is a mess too, the receiver is so small, the text is tiny, and the pictures are tiny. The designer should be dragged to the London Tower and beheaded!"

Gloria rolled her eyes. "That's too good for him. Only a king would receive such treatment."

After having some fun, Jim got down to business.

"Robert! Little Robert."

His voice was like thunder; he put the phone's microphone into his mouth as soon as he turned it on speakerphone.

Tang Ning's flustered and restrained voice came from the other end of the phone.

"Grandfather."

"Robert? What have you done now? Even your uncle and aunt couldn't handle it? Now you need me, an old man who's practically on my deathbed, to help you?"

"Grandfather, please don't say that."

"Then hurry up and tell me! Speak like you're reporting enemy intelligence to your superior! Speak like you're explaining mission objectives to your chief of staff!"

"I understand, Grandfather, I'm going to deal with the vampires."

"Huh? What blood-sucking nonsense?"

"A vampire is a legendary monster."

Hahahaha!

Jim burst into laughter.

The fat old man chuckled awkwardly as well.

Ms. Gloria let out a strange laugh.

The three different laughs were like the merciless mockery of elders to younger generations.

Robert Tang Ning felt frustrated--

--But to accomplish this, both his uncle and aunt are active-duty naval personnel; they can't possibly follow him in committing evil deeds. Oh no, I mean, in doing a heroic act.

After my father and mother retired from the military, they began traveling around the world and living a carefree life.

At this moment, only this Grandfather can help him.

So Robert patiently prepared to continue explaining carefully.

"Grandfather, there really are vampires in London. I'm not kidding."

Jim: "Hahahahahaha! Hahahahahaha!"

The fat old man's smirk turned into wild laughter.

"Hahahaha! I can't take it anymore, I can't breathe! Hahahaha!"

Gloria's flamboyant laughter has completely evolved into that of an elder of the Soul Palace.

"Hehehehe trash trash trash trash trash!"

The laughter lasted for a full minute.

"Huff, huff, huff." Jim, panting heavily, leaned against the wall with his prosthetic leg, one hand clutching his chest, cold sweat the size of soybeans beading on his forehead, feeling the angina pectoris brought on by the ecstatic joy. "You're so filial! Little Robert! You found me such thrilling fun first thing in the morning!"

Robert explained, "I haven't done drugs! I haven't taken hallucinogens! I'm serious! Grandfather! I'm really serious and anxious to tell you this! I don't want you to buy insurance, and I don't want your money. I haven't committed business fraud to cheat my family. There really are vampires!"

"Hahahahaha!" The fat old man was about to continue laughing.

Jim suddenly turned serious, revealing two rows of well-maintained, gleaming white teeth, and his smile turned ferocious.

He replied, "Yes!"

Robert paused for a moment, then asked, "Grandfather, do you believe what I'm saying?"

Jim: "I believe it! Because I've seen vampires with my own eyes!"

Robert exclaimed in surprise, "You saw it with your own eyes?!"

Jim: "That's right! I saw it with my own eyes! I even fought against them!"

The fat old man immediately shouted, "That's right! Seventy years ago, the Axis Powers were already using the vampire virus to enhance their soldiers!"

Jim hissed into the phone, "I'm so happy because God has given me another chance—my arms are fake, my eyes are fake, my legs are fake, but Robert! This call makes me feel like I'm really burning with passion! What do you need me to do?"

Tang Ning immediately voiced his thoughts--

"Grandfather, my friends need rain! A downpour like a category 8 typhoon! To get this done, I've managed to get a lot of silver iodide, but I can't get a flight path approved by air traffic control. Can you..."

"No way, I'm an ocean swimmer." Jim told him frankly, "No way! Absolutely no chance. It's impossible for me to deal with those thirty-something air traffic controllers. We couldn't even finish a cup of coffee before they'd flip the table and walk away after saying half a sentence."

Robert persisted, "Grandfather, can't you even persuade him? Even a temporary waterway for agricultural irrigation? Is that not enough?"

Jim: "Impossible! You'd better think of another way. These days, young people don't know how to respect the elderly and care for the young. We protected this country during the World War! Without me, there would be no SAS! And none of their wealth and glory!"

"Grandfather, calm down." Robert then explained the backup plan, "I have the compound, but I don't have an airplane. If I had an airplane..."

Jim: "You want carrier-based aircraft? How long will your flight time be?"

Robert: "Three thousand five hundred hours"

Jim: "Independent flight time."

Robert: "Three hours."

Jim scoffed, "So you mean you want to create artificial rain, you have the ammunition, but you don't have the ability to send it into the sky?"

Robert: "That's right."

After a long time, Jim came up with an idea.

"Let's sail and go around the United Kingdom!"

Tang Ning has finally figured it out.

"Use naval guns? Fire silver iodide like cannonballs?"

Jim chuckled and said, "Hehehe! Yes! I have many students working in the Navy, but you can't tell anyone that—as long as you don't tell, I won't tell."

"Do you all have dementia?" Gloria pointed at the phone. "MI6 heard everything clearly! How can you talk about something like this over a phone?!"

At that very moment--

--Right now.

Mary Stuart was indifferent to the tragedy that occurred in St. James's Park.

She felt no sympathy for her dead compatriots, even though some of them were her own direct descendants whom she had personally bled.

Her mind was filled with all sorts of fantasies, applauding the tragedy; she could even see herself returning to the center of power in London after taking over Downing Street.

Leonardo kissed his mistress, wanting to tell her about some recent interesting events.

"Madam, our informants at the Secret Service have discovered a very interesting phone recording."

"I don't want to hear any nonsense, just tell me the result."

"That Robert Tang Ning kid is planning to do artificial rain."

Upon hearing this, Mary's expression changed drastically.

This is absolutely unacceptable! It's an unforgivable crime! It's blatant murder!

Upon hearing such heinous news, even Mary Stuart, the vampire, wanted to call the police immediately and plead with the National Security Agency and the Secret Service to have this naval descendant arrested.

Artificial rainmaking?

For vampires, the six-month-long rainy season is the perfect time for them to reproduce and thrive on the surface world. If the rain stops and the sun comes out, the gang order they have painstakingly built up will probably collapse in an instant.

They must retreat to the underground world, where they must outwit and outmaneuver the ruthless and cunning BOSS, and fight tooth and nail against the ferocious Lapis Lazuli Guards.

At least 60% of vampires die in each chastity ritual.

The reason Mary was so confident in accepting the sharp decline in the vampire population, as seen in the tragedy at St. James's Cemetery, is because the surface world is simply too comfortable, too peaceful, and too suitable for the vampires to reproduce.

If Robert Tang Ning really manages to get this done—

--This minor character can overturn the entire chessboard!

"Hurry! Hurry! Go do something!" Mary gritted her teeth, a rare look of panic on her face. "How could someone with a body temperature of thirty-seven degrees do something so heartless!"

Leonardo panicked too, but told his wife not to panic.

"Don't worry, Holy Mother, I know you're in a hurry, but don't worry, I'll go to Haiphong right away! I'll send someone to deliver the money immediately."

"Their plan is to fire from their ships, sending silver iodide flying into the sky?" Mary then asked about the most crucial point, "I forbid any! Not a single warship! Not a single one! Not even a wooden sailing ship! To be seen near the coast of the United Kingdom!"

Leonardo: "I'm afraid it will cost a lot of money."

"Then spend it!" Mary's eyes flashed fiercely as she grabbed Leonardo's collar. "We're not short of money! As long as we have the Blessed Holy Blood, countless people will send us money!"

In Portsmouth --

History is about to turn a new page.

This time, however, we're flipping back.

A group of excited Grandfather picked up the crank handle of the diesel engine again and pulled the coal bags off the truck.

Robert Tang Ning spent twenty hours driving a freight truck along the Heartbreak Road from the west side of London to Portsmouth, over and over again.

They encountered setbacks and suffered hardships at every turn.

Jim and his students pleaded until they were hoarse, but they couldn't even borrow a retired submarine.

But there was one ship that could go out to sea and fire cannons.

It was the last Warrior-class warship of the British Empire.

It is the Ironclad Warrior, the black-robed prince amidst the storms of history books.

It's not a ship anymore; it's been turned into a museum.

The museum's signal could not be detected by the overly advanced computer systems on Haiphong's ship information network.

"It took us eight whole years to transform it from an oil tanker into what it is today. When I was young, the first time I saw this maritime lion of the empire, I was so moved by its power that I cried! I knew then that I was destined for a life where I could do nothing else but listen to the waves and feel the sea breeze—I was meant to face the thunder and lightning of the storm!"

Jim, wearing a coat, stood on the porch of the chicken restaurant, telling his grandson about history.

"It delivers oil to more than five thousand different merchant ships and warships, yet it itself still burns coal and spews steam, drinks water and eats grass, but produces pure white milk— Little Robert, we are just like it, many, many years ago, in a strange world war, fighting a war with scrap metal where no one knew anyone and everyone wanted to kill the other immediately. This is also protecting our homeland, isn't it?"

Before Tang Ning could answer.

Jim Tang Ning laughed heartily.

In the deep, dark night sky, lightning ripped through the black clouds, revealing its rugged, armored form.

Your friends are waiting for your thunder!