Forecasting Natural Disasters for Novel Natives - Chapter 10

Another world…

Peng Lan unconsciously gripped the windowsill, his eyes fixed intently on the Sky Screen.

The acid rain apocalypse had arrived so senselessly, so abruptly, that many began to question whether this world was truly the materialist reality they had firmly believed in.

Some even speculated that this was a virtual world, and everyone in it was a virtual being.

Others thought Earth was a prison, and they were all serving sentences—now, the acid rain was simply the outside world’s means of destroying this prison.

Various theories abounded.

This time, the appearance of the Sky Screen seemed to corroborate these speculations.

—Beyond this world, there were other worlds, and those worlds were also facing absurd apocalyptic crises.

So, what was the truth of this world? The truth of the universe? What was the meaning of their existence?

Was there a broader reality beyond, where everything was being manipulated?

Even the emergence of this Sky Screen—was it some kind of experiment or mockery?

Peng Lan’s expression remained unchanged, but his mind churned with turbulent thoughts. His fingers clenched so tightly that he snapped a piece off the window frame, blood trickling down.

His assistant watched, terrified. Had… had the Sky Screen said something horrifying? Why did Team Leader Peng look so frightening?

Just then, Peng Lan froze.

The Sky Screen’s footage suddenly stopped, and a pop-up window appeared—so close it seemed to jump right into his face:

[Free preview ended. Please pay to continue watching.]

Pay?

The abrupt intrusion of this mercenary tone interrupted all the intense conspiracy theories. For a moment, Peng Lan felt almost breathless, as if he’d been sucker-punched.

His expression turned peculiar, a mix of frustration and constipation.

“Team Leader Peng?” the assistant ventured cautiously.

Peng Lan clicked confirm, and a recharge page appeared:

[This viewing requires 10,000 yuan. Please recharge.]

Without blinking, Peng Lan confirmed the payment.

[Payment successful. Welcome to continue watching.]

The Sky Screen resumed playing. Peng Lan’s phone vibrated; he pulled it out to see a text message: 「Transaction completed on September 27 for account ending XXXX: -10,000.00. Balance: XXXXXX.」

Peng Lan’s pupils contracted. It had actually deducted money directly!

In the apocalypse, the money in his account was just a string of numbers—yet it could be used to pay for viewing the Sky Screen.

How was this different from watching for free?

At the same time, over ten thousand people across A City saw the Sky Screen.

“So it’s a Torrential Rain apocalypse! There’s another world as unlucky as ours.” A young woman crawled out of her cellar hideout, murmuring at the sky.

“Torrential Rains are better than acid rain, right? Seems we’re worse off.” A middle-aged man watched his family busily preparing for the next acid rain, their faces full of fear and worry. He actually felt a hint of envy for that Torrential Rain world.

“No way! So there’s more than one apocalyptic world? This world really is fake! Haha, it’s all just a game! Let’s play!” A chuunibyou teenager raised his middle finger at the sky. “Bring it on, damn heavens! Maybe when I die, I’ll wake up in some game pod with a message saying, ‘Congratulations on completing your apocalyptic life experience!’ Haha!”

In a villa worth billions, servants moved about orderly. A young master in silk pajamas sat on the balcony, sipping a drink as he gazed at the sky, his expression calm. “How increasingly interesting.”

In an office building sheltering many people, a female office worker was surrounded by a crowd as she relayed the Sky Screen’s content. Under their eager gazes, she felt immensely proud—she was the only one in the entire building who could see it!

In a hospital room, “Yun Eryao” was nearly crying with frustration as he scrolled through online news. His injured vocal cords produced garbled sounds. “There’s another Sky Screen! I can’t see it! I can’t see it!”

His friend looked at him helplessly. “Your wounds are just healing—stop yelling. I can’t see it either. Look around the hospital—which patient can?”

Yun Eryao continued to sob. “You don’t get it! This might be about another world—another world! A huge trending topic was right in front of me, and I missed it…”

Just then, everyone who could see the Sky Screen received a payment reminder.

The cellar girl checked her savings, hesitated, and reluctantly declined. As much as she wanted to know about the outside world, she still had to survive.

The middle-aged man looked at his family. Prices were outrageously high now. Although the state distributed supplies, they were minimal and basic. To live better, they still needed to spend their own money.

He sighed and declined the payment. Living in the present was more important.

The chuunibyou teen eagerly chose to pay, but a prompt indicated insufficient balance. He rushed inside to ask his parents for a transfer, but they thought he was joking and demanded an explanation.

Delayed by this, the payment page disappeared, and he lost access to the Sky Screen.

The teen threw himself to the ground, thrashing and wailing. “Ahhh! I can’t see it anymore! Why did you have to interrogate me? I hate you!”

His parents exchanged bewildered glances, at a loss.

The silk-pajama young master merely raised an eyebrow, paid, and continued watching leisurely.

The office worker winced at the 10,000 yuan, but as long as she was willing to share the Sky Screen’s content, those around her would share food and supplies with her. So, it was a worthwhile investment. Gritting her teeth, she paid.

Yun Eryao kept refreshing the news. Learning that many couldn’t afford the 10,000 yuan and missed the rest, he burst into schadenfreude laughter. “Haha! If I can’t see it, neither can you!”

Laughing too hard tugged at his wounds, and he yelped in pain.

Seeing his mindset warping, his friend shook his head, finally decided to leave him be, and quietly exited the room. His time was better spent helping his family secure supplies.

*

「Torrential Rain World.」

While people in the acid rain world grappled with payment dilemmas or regrets, those in the Torrential Rain world—experiencing the Sky Screen for the first time—were utterly stunned.

“Is the sky falling?”

“Where is that voice coming from?”

“Our city, Haicheng, is up in the sky! This angle is so surreal.”

“Disaster forecaster? Did she say natural disaster? Am I hearing things?”

The voice from above continued: [I know your world has seen clear skies for over a month now, without a single drop of rain. In many places, this has lasted for months, causing droughts and widespread crop failure.]

The visuals shifted accordingly, showing drought-stricken areas. Though somewhat blurry, the withered crops, dried-up riverbeds, depleted wells, and mountain residents trekking long distances for water were clearly visible, painting a picture of hardship.

Even in economically developed Haicheng, where such struggles were absent, people felt a pang of concern.

[However, soon you won’t need to worry about the drought. Starting tomorrow, your world will welcome a long-awaited rainfall. This rain will soak the parched earth and cool the scorching heat.]

The screen showed people cheering as they rushed into the rain, dancing, bathing, and shouting, “It’s raining! The crops are saved!”

[People leaped in the rain, flung off their clothes, even showered openly. Some, fearing the rain might not last, brought out buckets and basins to collect it.]

The joy on screen was contagious, easing the viewers’ tension.

“So it’ll rain tomorrow? That’s great—it’s been unbearably hot lately.”

“Wait, think about it. If this video can really predict the future, that’s terrifying.”

“Couldn’t it be the government forecasting rain and notifying us this way?”

“What technology could create such a huge Sky Screen right now?”

The head of the city’s meteorological bureau frowned deeply. “Did we predict rain for tomorrow?”

Someone hesitated. “No. We only forecasted possible conditions for artificial rainfall in the coming days.”

Another added, “Then what nonsense is this Sky Screen spouting? If it doesn’t rain tomorrow, how disappointed will everyone be!”

The bureau chief’s frown deepened. This Sky Screen was bizarre—was current technology even capable of this?

He had someone contact the neighboring city’s meteorological bureau, but the reply astounded him. The neighboring bureau was clueless: “Sky Screen? What Sky Screen? What are you talking about? Rain tomorrow? Impossible! The data shows no signs of it.”

Before the chief could respond, the Sky Screen’s music shifted abruptly from cheerful to ominous.

[However, such worries are unnecessary. This Torrential Rain won’t end quickly. It will last a very, very long time.]

[On the first day of the Torrential Rain, you rejoiced, cheered, danced in the rain, strolled with umbrellas.]

[On the second day, you were still happy, as rivers and wells began to refill, and temperatures dropped.]

[On the third day, annoyance set in. Three days of rain caused street flooding, clogged drains, and rivers rising nearly to street level, forcing many areas to open floodgates.]

[On the fourth day, travel became difficult. Buses stopped running. Community stores and supermarkets saw dwindling stocks, and replenishing goods was hampered by flooded roads, making life inconvenient.]

[On the fifth day, the rain intensified. First floors were nearly submerged. Panic spread as blackouts, network failures, and water cuts occurred sporadically. The elderly and children struggled to move, and those with limited food supplies faced dire hunger and thirst.]

[On the sixth day, water reached the second floor. Residents on lower floors and in low-lying areas had to evacuate. But not everyone had somewhere to go—especially in Haicheng, with its many migrant workers. Leaving their homes meant becoming homeless.]

[On the seventh day, the rain continued, and winds strengthened. Billboards fell, building facades collapsed, trees were uprooted—the outdoors became perilous. The homeless, already vulnerable, died in the streets. High-rises were unsafe too; windows shattered, interiors were drenched, and some were even sucked out of windows.]

[On the eighth day, no shops remained open. To survive, people took to boats, scavenging, stealing, or fighting for supplies. Many died en route or in conflicts. The city descended into chaos, spiraling out of control.]

[On the ninth day, the tenth day…]

“Sheer nonsense!” On a private company’s rooftop, converted into an open-air tea room, a group stood watching the Sky Screen.

A burly man with a buzz cut slammed the table, pointing skyward. “Lies! Our country is strong, our city orderly! How could a few days of rain lead to chaos, death over food—is this a novel?”

He looked to his companions for agreement but found them grim-faced, seemingly oblivious to his outburst.

“Hey, don’t tell me you all believe this?”

Still no response. A woman hung up her phone. “Confirmed. Only people in Haicheng can see this Sky Screen.”

Another added, “I’ve checked with all tech companies. They say it’s impossible for anyone to create such a thing.”

A third rapidly typed on a laptop. “Most faces on the Sky Screen match real ordinary people—not actors. I even found two from our company.”

Silence fell.

The Sky Screen’s voice poured down, clear as if spoken beside their ears.

[Months into the Torrential Rain, most of the world was submerged. Coastal cities like Haicheng suffered especially, with less than 20-30% of the population surviving. People realized the rain might never stop. Survivors had to leave their homes, seeking higher ground for hope.]

[Fortunately, by then, the state had established refuge bases in high-altitude areas and could finally spare resources to aid and evacuate survivors from low-lying regions.]

Hearing this, people sighed in relief. The burly man said, “See? The state will step in—ah, no! I mean, this is impossible! Where would all that water come from?”

Again, no one acknowledged him. Instead, they all looked to their boss—the wealthiest, most capable, and decisive among them, as he had always been since childhood.

Bo Mucheng gazed at the Sky Screen, his profile cold and stern as ice.

This feeling of being at the mercy of some higher power, forced to glean fragments of his future fate from cryptic hints, was deeply unsettling.

Yet he said, “Ji He, take the team on the earliest flight to the west. That land we looked at before is suitable—acquire it as our branch office.”

He turned to his friend Ji He. “Stockpile survival supplies to the fullest extent. Understood?”

Ji He paused. The location was over 3,000 meters above sea level—indeed suitable as a refuge from the rain.

He nodded gravely. “Understood!”

Bo Mucheng looked at a woman. “Xiao Han, notify my family and yours—everyone outside the city must return. Arrange for them all to go to the branch office by tomorrow.”

Xiao Han replied, “Yes.”

The burly man scratched his head vigorously. “Seriously? You believe it? Even sending families away—isn’t that overkill?”

Bo Mucheng turned to him. “Lao Xu, can you get us some weapons?”

Lao Xu shuddered. “W-weapons?!”

Bo Mucheng said calmly, “Just for self-defense.”

Lao Xu tugged his hair. “I’ll… try.”

The quick and capable began preparations immediately. But the vast majority of ordinary citizens remained in bewildered panic.

The Sky Screen sounded convincing, yet believing such an apocalyptic prophecy felt absurd and far-fetched.

Zhang Xiao stood on the street, watching the growing crowds pointing at the Sky Screen, debating and seeking opinions.

A few slipped away quietly, their urgency suggesting they were off to stockpile supplies or make other preparations.

She smirked coldly, glaring at the Sky Screen, fists clenched, eyes burning with resentment.

Why hadn’t there been such a prophecy in her previous life? She had known nothing and died miserably.

Now, in this second chance, this forecast appears?

If the whole world knew about the apocalypse, those richer, better-connected, and more capable would prepare faster and more thoroughly than she ever could.

They had ample funds to hoard supplies, buy weapons, acquire boats, even leave Haicheng early for safer grounds.

The dynamics of Haicheng would change. The powerful would depart early, thwarting her plans to ally with them.

Prices would soar, supplies might be controlled, hindering her stockpiling plans.

Even that scum Zhao Wu and his family could prepare in advance.

What was the point of her rebirth then? Her advantage was gone!

Was this Sky Screen deliberately opposing her?!