Chapter 8: Signs of the Coming Storm
That morning, the sky above the mountain city was unnaturally dark for a day in the middle of the dry season.Adrian stood at the window of his office facing east, watching thick clouds moving in strange patterns—too fast, too dark, as if nature itself were preparing something dreadful.
The phone on his desk rang for the tenth time that morning.
"Mr. Adrian," came the tense voice of Mr. Hartono, the Surabaya branch manager. "I have to report something very unusual. The weather here has been… strange for the past three days."
"How strange, Mr. Hartono?"
"Yesterday the temperature reached forty-two degrees, even though the forecast was only thirty-five. But what's more alarming is this—our partner farmers reported their rice crops suddenly withered overnight. As if burned from the inside."
Adrian felt the ring on his finger give a faint tremor."How many hectares are affected?"
"Nearly five thousand, sir. And it's not just East Java. I just spoke with Mr. Wijaya in Medan—same thing there. Even worse."
After ending the call, Adrian immediately contacted his other branch managers. One by one, similar reports poured in: Medan had been hit by a hailstorm that destroyed palm plantations. Makassar was suffering from extreme drought that dried up its rivers. Balikpapan was lashed by acid rain that damaged storage facilities.
And most alarming of all—the price of rice on the international market had skyrocketed by 300% in just a week.
Adrian called Uncle Suryo into his office.
"Uncle, I need a full report on the national rice reserves. Also the data on wheat, corn, and other staple imports from our five main supplier countries."
"I'll have it ready within an hour, Young Master. But may I ask—what exactly is going on?"
Adrian looked out the window again. The dark clouds were now swirling into an unnatural spiral."Uncle, I think we're facing the beginning of something far bigger than just a weather problem."
Uncle Suryo followed his gaze. As a former soldier, his instincts instantly flared in warning."Young Master, those clouds…"
"Moving against the natural wind direction. Yes. I've noticed it too."
That afternoon, Adrian was in his underground training facility—a once-empty space he had transformed into a complete combat and endurance center. The concrete block he had smashed the day before had been replaced—this time with one made of titanium-reinforced steel.
He stripped off his shirt and stood before the two-ton slab of metal. The ring on his finger gave off a faint glow, as if responding to Adrian's intent to push his limits.
Taking a deep breath, he focused. Since last night, he had felt other changes in his body—sharper reflexes, clearer vision, and even the ability to hear footsteps from two floors above.
With a movement almost too fast for the human eye, Adrian struck the steel block.
BANG!
The sound cracked like thunder. The two-ton block flew five meters, a perfect imprint of Adrian's hand dented deep into its surface.
Adrian stared at his hand in astonishment. No pain. No injury. If anything, he felt energy surging stronger than ever.
"Incredible," he murmured. "But just how far can this go?"
He turned to testing the dimensional space within the ring. Until now, Adrian had only stored inanimate objects inside it. But his curiosity about the ring's boundaries had grown.
He took a small goldfish from the aquarium in the corner and carefully tried to place it inside the space.
The result shocked him—the fish died instantly. When Adrian pulled it back out, it was already stiff, as though it had been dead for hours.
"So there's a limit," he muttered, looking down at the lifeless fish with regret. "This dimensional space is only for non-living matter."
He tried again with a small potted plant. Same result—it wilted and died the moment it entered. Even a fresh flower instantly shriveled as if it had gone days without water.
The realization sank in: the ring's storage was extraordinary for keeping and duplicating inanimate objects, but it couldn't sustain life. It was a magical warehouse, not a sanctuary.
That night, Adrian sat in the family lounge with his laptop open, preparing for a video call with Mr. Qiao—and more importantly, with Mengmeng and her grandmother.
"Brother Adrian!" came a cheerful little voice from the doorway. Three-year-old Mimi ran in clutching her panda plushie, followed by Blacky wagging his tail, and Milo the Persian cat gliding elegantly behind.
"Hello, sweetheart. I'm just about to talk to a friend in Beijing."
"Where's Beijing?" Mimi asked innocently, climbing into Adrian's lap.
"It's a country far away. There's a little girl there I want you to meet."
Mimi's eyes sparkled. "A little girl? Like me?"
"Yes, but she doesn't speak Indonesian. She speaks Mandarin."
Just then, a call came in from Mr. Qiao. The middle-aged man appeared on the screen, with a luxurious hospital room visible behind him.
"Adrian! Finally, we can talk again."
"Uncle Qiao, how are they doing?"
"See for yourself." Mr. Qiao turned the camera, and Adrian's heart warmed instantly. Mengmeng sat on a comfortable hospital bed in clean pink pajamas, her hair neatly brushed and tied with cute ribbons. Grandma Lin sat beside her, no longer pale, her eyes shining with renewed health.
"Adrian Gege!" Mengmeng squealed when she saw his face.
"Mengmeng! You look so much healthier!"
The little girl nodded enthusiastically, hugging her brand-new panda plushie—far nicer than her old one.
Suddenly, the Mimi in Adrian's lap piped up, "Who's that, Brother?"
On the screen, Mengmeng leaned forward, curious about the little girl with Adrian. Even without sharing a language, the curiosity of children was universal.
"Mimi, this is Mengmeng. Mengmeng, this is Mimi," Adrian introduced, mixing both languages.
The two girls immediately waved at each other with enthusiasm. Blacky wandered into view, making Mengmeng clap in delight.
"Gǒugǒu! Gǒugǒu!" she pointed happily.
Mimi didn't understand the word, but she knew Mengmeng liked Blacky. "Blacky! His name's Blacky!" she declared, hugging the dog's head.
Not to be left out, Milo leapt gracefully onto the table, sitting squarely before the camera.
"Māomī! Piàoliang de māomī!" Mengmeng exclaimed, clapping again.
Though they spoke different languages, the girls quickly bonded, showing each other their toys—Mengmeng displayed her new panda, while Mimi showed off the one Adrian had brought from Beijing.
"Xièxie Adrian Gege!" Mengmeng said, hugging her panda. Mimi mimicked her, even without knowing what it meant.
Grandma Lin, watching the sweet interaction, smiled with misty eyes. "Adrian, thank you. You didn't just save our lives—you brought happiness back to Mengmeng."
Warmth bloomed in Adrian's chest. "Nai Nai, this is how it should be. No child should live in hunger or fear."
Then Mr. Qiao took over the conversation. "Adrian, there's something important you should know. The weather in Beijing… is not normal."
Adrian's expression hardened. "Not normal how?"
"In the past three days, temperatures have swung wildly. Yesterday afternoon it was thirty-five degrees, but that night it dropped to eight. And this is June, Adrian—it should be hot."
"That's not right for this season."
"More than not right—it's dangerous. Farmers outside the city report their wheat fields dying overnight. And the strangest thing…" Mr. Qiao lowered his voice. "There are reports of birds migrating south. In June, Adrian. They're supposed to head south in winter."
The ring on Adrian's finger vibrated sharply, as if resonating with the news.
"Uncle, I've been getting similar reports from our branches. Extreme weather everywhere, mass crop failures, food prices exploding."
Mr. Qiao's face grew grave. "We're facing something big, aren't we?"
"I believe so. And we need to prepare."
Their conversation was interrupted when Mimi and Mengmeng squealed in delight—Blacky had just "shaken hands" over the video call. The girls' laughter was pure, reminding Adrian exactly why he had to stay strong—not just to protect his business or his wealth, but to protect the innocence of moments like this from a darkening world.
The next morning, Adrian had barely arrived at the office when Uncle Suryo approached with a grim look.
"Young Master, there's a major problem. The central tax office is sending a special investigation team. They'll be here by noon."
Adrian halted mid-step. "Investigation for what?"
"Suspicious wealth reports. Someone filed a complaint saying you've made large, questionable transactions with foreign entities."
"Foreign entities?" Adrian instantly knew the source. "The remnants of Uncle Asong's network."
"Most likely. But there's something even more worrying, Young Master."
Uncle Suryo handed him a photo from a brown envelope. It showed a black sedan with Jakarta plates parked across the street from the company gate.
"They've been watching us since yesterday. And it's not just tax officials—this is a broader investigation."
Adrian studied the photo closely. Through his sharpened telepathy, he could feel the hostility radiating from the people inside the car.
"Who's behind this, Uncle?"
"My sources say a group of Jakarta businessmen who feel threatened by our expansion into Beijing. They think we're going to dominate the Asian food market."
"They're not wrong," Adrian said with a cold smile. "But they've made a mistake by coming after me directly."
Uncle Suryo recognized that look. "What will you do, Young Master?"
"We'll cooperate fully with the investigation. Give them all the documents they want. But in the meantime…"
Adrian's gaze shifted toward the black sedan across the street.
"In the meantime, we'll investigate everyone who dares threaten our family."
The ring on his finger pulsed—and for a brief moment, he thought he could see the faces of the men inside the sedan. Faces that would soon regret making Adrian Bong their enemy.
The real storm was only just beginning. And Adrian would face it with every weapon at his disposal—both visible and hidden.
Far above, the dark clouds kept swirling in unnatural patterns, as if the sky itself was preparing something catastrophic.
The apocalypse was already at the door.And Adrian Bong intended to be ready when it arrived.