On the distant horizon, dark, oppressive clouds were surging forward. Within those clouds, thunder rumbled and lightning flashed, as if a thunderstorm was making a dramatic entrance.

"Storm!"

Brian Sullivan instantly recalled that month-long doomsday storm.

He quickly stopped the King Kong, operated the controls to extend its eight legs, anchoring them into the rubble and yellow sand to secure the vehicle. Then he lowered the 15A radar, closed the ventilation ports, disconnected any power sources that might attract lightning, and raised the lightning rod, making sure its base was deeply embedded in the ground.

Engine off.

Waiting for the storm to arrive.

After all this was done, a minute later, the once brilliant sun was obscured by the dark clouds. The bright sky turned pitch black in an instant.

Darker than night.

Chapter 9: The Swaying Submarine

The wind howled, and the King Kong shook.

This sudden storm was even fiercer than the doomsday storm before, whipping up rubble that pelted the vehicle’s body with a constant crackling.

The rain hadn’t even started yet, but the sheer force of the storm already made the King Kong feel as if it might topple at any moment.

Brian Sullivan’s mind wandered over the King Kong, able to sense that with every hit to the outer armor, a small amount of activity was consumed. Without using activity to resist, the rubble—traveling at dozens of kilometers per hour—could easily smash through the King Kong’s 16mm steel armor.

Fortunately, the storm also brought a large amount of free activity. Brian Sullivan’s will roamed inside the King Kong, sensing the incredibly dense activity being voraciously absorbed by the vehicle, replenishing the armor’s losses.

Guiding the absorption.

Making up for the consumption.

In this back-and-forth, Brian Sullivan’s willpower was rapidly being trained. He could feel his mind becoming more solid as he guided the activity.

Activity didn’t chemically react with the mind, but it could enhance the body. As the body grew stronger, it could support a more powerful mind and stabilize the loss of willpower.

Of course, Brian Sullivan couldn’t maintain his willpower to guide the King Kong at all times.

After three hours, he had to withdraw from the King Kong and relax his mind for a while.

Without Brian Sullivan’s willpower guiding it, the King Kong still continued the absorption and replenishment process, just at a much slower pace.

But with the King Kong’s reserves of activity, it could last through ten hours of consumption.

He closed his eyes to rest for a bit.

At some point, the crackling sounds had stopped, but outside it was still pitch black, not a trace of light. Brian Sullivan opened his eyes, took out the Geiger counter and measured—the radiation had reached the same level as during the doomsday storm.

"It seems there’s some connection between activity and radiation? When radiation is strong, activity is also strong..."

Another speculation with no way to confirm.

Seeing that the wind had stopped, Brian Sullivan left the cockpit, preparing to get some fang wolf meat to eat. To save power, there was only a small car fridge on board, so storage was limited. He ate food according to its shelf life, starting with what would spoil soonest. The fang wolf meat and big-toothed rat meat hadn’t been salted, so their preservation time was limited. During this period, Brian Sullivan was making sure to eat them up.

Besides, it could quickly boost the activity in his body. The wonders of activity might become his greatest guarantee for survival in this post-apocalyptic world, second only to the King Kong.

Just as he powered up the induction cooker, the pitch-black sky outside finally reached the tipping point for rain.

The rain poured down like a dam bursting, not as drops but as a continuous curtain of water, crashing onto the ground with a roar like ocean waves.

Brian Sullivan opened the side window and shone a flashlight outside.

In the darkness, only the nearby rain curtain reflected the flashlight’s beam.

This left Brian Sullivan speechless. Just a few hours ago, he had been painstakingly searching for water, thinking this world of yellow sand was severely lacking in water resources. Who would have thought that a single rainstorm would overturn that belief?

This wasn’t a drought—it was a flood.

"Still, I can’t guarantee this water is drinkable. The radiation level is too high; it’s probably contaminated." Looking at the Geiger counter’s nearly maxed-out reading, Brian Sullivan shook his head.

He finished pan-frying the fang wolf steak to medium-well, took out a nearly expired bottle of pulpy orange juice, opened half a bottle of hot sauce, and leaned against the wall of the compartment, eating in silence.

Fang wolf meat tasted a bit like dog meat, just a little more astringent. After six or seven years of cooking for himself, Brian Sullivan’s culinary skills were quite good, so this meal was naturally flavorful.

"If only I had a dog." Eating the fang wolf meat and thinking about how fang wolves might be mutated native dogs, Brian Sullivan immediately thought of the movie "I Am Legend."

He had just watched it again last night.

Will Smith and his German Shepherd—one man and one dog—surviving in the apocalypse, facing loneliness and mutation. It felt a lot like his own situation, except Brian Sullivan had no dog, only the King Kong.

...

After eating the fang wolf steak, the torrential rain outside still hadn’t stopped. The water had already risen past half the height of the tires, with no sign of letting up.

With no wind or flying rubble, Brian Sullivan no longer needed to maintain the King Kong’s activity absorption.