Chapter 199 The Storm 30 Years Ago

Hot and humid noon, wet and salty sea breeze.

The scorching sun at low latitudes burned the wood on the dock, causing my skin to throb slightly.

This is obviously not a good time to be working, but some people have no choice.

John Smith, the chief constable of Brixham, was a high-ranking official, but he was far from a privileged class in a place where police were scarce.

at this time.

He and two of his subordinates were standing at the harbor, wearing a white shirt and a green woven vest, squatting down to check a small single-engine fishing boat.

"How terrible! Is there a new school of swordfish in our harbor?" John touched the cracks on the bottom of the fishing boat and clenched his palms, pretending to have a sword and gesticulating back and forth.

"Boss, this is not a funny joke." George Davis on the left frowned, "What kind of swordfish can penetrate the bottom of a boat with two iron plates inlaid on it?"

He looked like a very stereotypical person, with his hair neatly combed back and his trouser legs and cuffs neatly done, which fits the stereotypes that outsiders have of the British.

"That's hard to say. I remember that in the London Museum, there is a 50-centimeter-thick piece of boat bottom that was pierced by a swordfish." Henry Bronson, who was at the end, shrugged. "This thing may weigh 100 kilograms. It must be very powerful when swimming!"

George thought about it and nodded, "You're right."

"Well, guys!" John interrupted them, standing up on his knees. "This is a regrettable accident. But I think God will guide Mr. William."

He looked up at the huge sun and scratched his sweat-soaked hair. "As for now, does anyone want to have a cold beer with me?"

"Will you treat me, boss?" Henry fanned his cheeks with his palms and winked. "I know a great pub next to Bath Abbey. I can assure you that it has no disadvantages except that it is a little expensive!"

He was the fattest of the three. When he squatted down, his white flesh would squeeze out from his shirt buttons, and he was unbearable in just a moment.

John pretended to think for a moment, then slapped Henry on the butt, "Okay, for PLAYBOY's sake."

"Cheers!" Henry cheered.

George was a little dissatisfied. He checked the time with his wrist. "Boss! We have been out of the police station for less than two hours. We just took a look at the fishing boat. How can you close the case so hastily?"

"Hey! Calm down, man." John patted him on the shoulder and pointed to the cracks on the bottom of the boat.

"The shipwreck was two nautical miles from the shore. It was not an accident. Who would dive so far just to sink a ship? Moreover, this kind of penetration mark cannot be made by human tools."

"But..." George was speechless, "There may be other possibilities, right?"

"Then go check it yourself if you're really not satisfied." John sighed, pushed him away, and left with Henry arm in arm, "Although the result doesn't matter."

George watched them go away expressionlessly, then turned around and parted ways with them.

……

Ian, wearing a hospital gown, lies on the bed at a public clinic in Brixham.

The dazzling beam of light passed through the glass, and the petals on the bedside drooped their heads. The boy shielded the sunlight with the back of his hand, got out of bed and half-closed the curtains.

Knock knock~

There was a knock on the door.

George, who had just left the port, pushed the door open.

"Excuse me, Mr. Ian Jones." He walked in and closed the door again. "Can I spare you a moment? I have something to ask you about yesterday's accident."

"Oh, of course." Ian was a little surprised, or maybe scared. He nodded and said quickly, "Please ask."

George was not polite. The high temperature had already soaked the officer's shirt with sweat. He pulled a chair opposite the bed and sat down.

Seriously asked, "So, Ian... did you notice anything wrong before the ship sank?"

"Something's wrong?"

"Yeah." George's blue eyes deepened a little, like the gradual change of the sea surface. He pursed his lips, a little nervous, "Did you hear any strange sounds? Like a whale, or a lion? Mighty and long?"

“…No, not really.”

"What about shadows? Do you see any shadows?"

"nor."

Ian shook his head, thought about it and confirmed again, "I am very sure that I did not see what you said... However, it is also possible that my attention was completely focused on the fishing net at the time and I did not pay much attention to the surroundings."

“…Is that so?” George leaned back into his chair.

He was silent for a moment, then asked, "Mr. Jones, do you remember how long it took for the ship to sink?"

"About... three minutes?" Ian hesitated, "I'm not sure."

"Three minutes," George repeated in a low voice. He recalled the narrow gap he had seen in the harbor and estimated for a moment that it was a normal sinking speed.

Sighing, he asked one last question without holding out any hope: "Are there life jackets on board? Why aren't there any?"

"…because there is only one life jacket on the boat." Ian lowered his head.

He seemed to still have some trauma, his eyes wide open, looking terrified, "The uncle said he was a good swimmer and didn't need... but when he fell into the water, the boat capsized and hit his ankle, so..."

"I see." George nodded, interrupting him from continuing to reminisce.

He stood up from his chair, bowed slightly, and said seriously, "Sorry not to bother you. Please have a good rest. I wish you a speedy recovery."

"……Thanks."

George opened the door.

But the next second they collided with another group of people outside.

Several young men in their twenties and thirties, dressed in formal clothes and holding cameras, stood in the corridor, raising their hands and about to knock on the door.

— from the Brixham Courant.

George glanced at their work badges.

Brixham is a small town in Devon with a small population. Although it earns a lot of money from tourism and fishing, there is little new going on.

The last murder occurred seven years ago, then 13 years ago, and then 30 years ago... I can't remember the earlier ones because of the time.

It's no surprise that local newspapers wanted to capitalize on this trend.

George blocked the door frame and shouted, "Hey, gentlemen! I know what you want to do! To ask about other people's wounds over and over again to satisfy yourself or those bored people's desire to watch the fun."

His eyes were full of disgust, and he closed the door forcefully. "But the child needs to rest now. If you want to know anything, just come and ask me."

……

It was already three o'clock in the afternoon when George sent away those annoying reporters.

He drove back to the police station tiredly.

It was a very grand house, three stories high, decorated with reddish-brown wooden tiles, making it very eye-catching.

George walked up the wooden stairs to the second floor, returned to his desk, and began to write the final report of the accident.

Yes, George now also felt that this was an accident. All that was left was to send the report to the police station in the big city and ask them to send someone to check the creatures in the ocean.

——After all, small places are not well equipped to do this kind of work.

squeak~

There was a sound of someone stepping on the wooden floor outside the door, and a man pushed the door open.

"Hey! Want a bite?"

John, reeking of alcohol, came over, put a bottle of draft beer on the table in front of George, and slumped back in his chair.

"What a lousy place that bastard Henry recommended. He actually charged me four pounds for a bottle of draft beer! I really want to arrest their boss!"

He slammed the table and complained - even in a big city like London, a bottle of draft beer would not cost more than two pounds.

But in the end, John muttered again, "But... those girls who serve drinks are really great, much prettier than my first love!"

He said this with a sly smile, and without caring whether there was any response or not, he stretched his head to read George's report and raised his eyebrows.

"See, I told you it was a waste of time. Young people are always serious. If you have that time, you might as well go to the bar with us for a romantic encounter."

George sighed, "Boss, I'm 35 years old."

"Is 35 old?" John rolled his eyes. "When I turned 50, my wish was to turn 40."

He hummed and picked up the draft beer on the table, opened it and poured himself a glass.

George finished writing the last line of the report and looked up. "Where's Henry?"

"Still flirting with a chick in a bar." John burped and gritted his teeth in jealousy. "23-year-old bastards always take advantage of this."

Seeing George put the report aside, John put his arm around his shoulders and said, "Well, don't keep Henry waiting any longer! Now that the work is done, let's go have a drink together."

"No, I..."

"Hey! Listen, kid, if you don't want to be bullied at work, don't refuse your boss's invitation! Absolutely not!"

John waved his hand to interrupt him, "I came here specially after seeing you come back from the surveillance."

"...Okay, I get it." George smiled bitterly.

……

At four o'clock in the afternoon, the fishing boats returned one after another and Brixham gradually became prosperous.

John pushed open the solid wooden door, and Oasis's "Dig out Your Soul" was beating wildly in his ears.

This was released in 08 and was nominated for NME's Best Album Award this year. It has a good audience in bars.

"How is it? Great, right?!" John leaned over to George's ear and shouted.

The gorgeous lights rotate and illuminate every place.

George shrugged. "It's OK."

He walked to the bar with ease, "A bottle of whiskey, please."

It’s not that George hasn’t been to the bar before, but he refused before only because this case took up too much of his energy.

"Here!" Henry, who was sitting not far away, saw them and waved and shouted.

John squeezed through the girls with scant clothing, slapped Henry on the head, picked up the wine in front of him and drank it all.

"Are you alone? Where's that girl who looks like Susan Boyle?"

"A rich man asked her to dance with him." Henry shrugged, sucked his stomach sadly, and looked at the center of the dance floor sadly. "What a girl that makes people love and hate her."

……

Time always passes quickly when you are addicted.

Henry had already rushed into the dance floor with his hips swung.

John clinked his glass with George's and asked casually over the loud music, "You've been in Brixham for ten years, right?"

"Nine years and four months."

"Oh, damn! I remember it so well."

John laughed, "Don't be so serious all the time. If you can't get along with your subordinates, they won't take you seriously when you take over as police chief."

George slurped, the wine soaking his collar, and he coughed repeatedly, "You...what did you say? Taking over as the police chief? Me?"

"What's wrong? Is it incredible?" John groaned, pointing at his thinning hair. "I'm 57 years old this year, and I'm only three years away from retirement... I don't want to wait to die in my position like that 130-year-old guy."

"what did you say?"

The last part was so low that George could not hear it clearly.

"No, nothing." John shook his head.

He shook the cup in his hand, and the transparent ice ball gently turned inside. "There aren't many people in our police station, so getting a promotion doesn't require the roundabout way of getting promoted like in big cities."

"But, sir, I am not from Brixham."

"It's been nearly ten years. Who would believe that he is not a local?" John didn't care.

"Anyway, except for you, everyone else in the police station is a salary thief like me. If I really want to give them the position, I can't do it with the remaining conscience I have."

He sighed and nodded towards the dance floor. "Look at Henry. Compared to solving cases, he probably wants to find a wife as soon as possible... Haha, I haven't bought PLAYBOY in person since he joined the company."

George remained silent and drank the wine in his glass.

John was slumped over the counter drunkenly, "Well, George, don't you have anything you want to say to me?"

He tilted his head to one side.

"say what?"

"Anything is fine." John chuckled, "Just like in the clichéd story, the drunk boss and subordinate in the bar are honest with each other and talk about their unknown pasts."

George rolled his eyes for once, "Boss, tell me the truth, is there something wrong with your sexual orientation that you are still single?"

"Haha! Yes! I have no resistance to young men!"

"So Henry is dangerous."

They refilled their drinks, smiled, and clinked their glasses.

The wine ripples with a warm luster under the light.

##
At five o'clock in the afternoon, the hospital became deserted.

Ian put his hands under his head, looked at the pure white ceiling, and suddenly laughed, "It's really funny. Even though I have formed a cocoon again, my thoughts can still attach to other people."

He sat up and looked at the figure that appeared under the curtain. "What is this? Is this a possession?"

"It's just a kind of alchemy." The child shook his head. "Odin is the best at this. I can only be considered to have mastered the basics, but it took me a lot of effort to set it up."

"Odin?" Su Beixun repeated the name he had heard several times with interest, grinning, "I really want to meet him."

"There will be a chance." The child narrowed his eyes hatefully.

He paused, then continued, "Okay, brother, before you devour Constantine's dragon bones and truly emerge from the cocoon, you should play the role of Ian well."

"Ian..." Su Beixun got off the bed and stood in front of the mirror in the bathroom.

Appearing in the pupil was the face of a boy of about 13 years old, with flaxen hair, sea-blue eyes, and cheeks with scattered black spots.

"That sounds unreliable." He moved his shoulders and elbows, adjusting to this unfamiliar body. "To experience the human heart, I actually need to comprehend life... I thought it was just a metaphor."

"This motto was deduced by the kings and nobles back then. No one has succeeded yet. Everything is still under exploration."

The child explained, "Otherwise, why would the kings abandon their dragon bodies and walk in legends and history as human beings?"

He warned earnestly, "After the battle in Cassel, your Dragon Heart has gradually begun to revive. The most important thing now is to bring down the 'Ether' again."

"I see."

Su Beixun nodded.

He walked to the window and looked out at the blue ocean in the distance. "Then, let's hope that our cocoons don't attract anyone's attention before they hatch."

"Don't worry, the location of the cocoon is very hidden. It is impossible to be easily found in the vast ocean."

The kid shrugged, and said with some regret, "Our Nibelungen is in Greenland. If Kassel Academy hadn't known about it eight years ago, it would have been safest to leave it there."

##
Seven o'clock in the evening.

The sky is still bright, but the dim sun and red clouds make people feel more old.

John pushed open the door of the bar, put his wallet back distressedly, and looked back at Henry who was dancing happily on the dance floor, cursing, "One day this fat dart will be killed by a woman!"

George followed behind. His face was also red from the wine, and the sea breeze blew, clearing his chaotic brain for a short time.

"Want to go for a walk on the beach?" George suggested.

John rubbed his aching temple and did not refuse.

……

It was very lively along the way.

Unknown birds flew overhead, chirping, and the sound of waves reached my ears.

The dark blue skyline swallowed up the coast, the grayish-white sand formed another sea, and the stone walls standing on the shore were polished very smooth by the wind.

George picked up a handful of sand and peeled out the stones. Perhaps because of the wine, his eyes were a little blurry.

After a moment's silence, he suddenly spoke.

"...Boss, although I only took office ten years ago, I have actually been here since I was very young."

He swung his arms, and the stones splashed on the sea surface. "Well, about three years old."

"Oh ~ three years old?"

John sat down on the beach, holding up his chin. "The earliest thing I can remember now is that I swore marriage vows to a very pretty girl in kindergarten, and I even stole my mother's wedding ring from home."

He thought of his own absurdity and laughed a few times, then looked at George who was looking out to sea and patted his calf.

"Okay, don't be sentimental after drinking. If you jump in, I'll have a headache."

John said, "If you really miss your childhood, I can grant you a leave so you can go back and cry in your mother's arms? How about a month?"

"Thank you, Boss."

George thanked him earnestly, then shook his head gently, "But no need, they're already dead."

John's laughter froze, "Uh... dead, dead?"

The carefree old man felt a little uncomfortable and coughed softly, "Sorry, I didn't know."

“It doesn’t matter. It’s been 30 years.”

George laughed instead.

But his smile was short, lasting only a moment. Looking at the waves washing the beach, the corners of his mouth quickly fell, and he whispered, "No, to be precise, it should be 29 years."

"Year 29?"

Hearing this sensitive point, John frowned, "Could it be that big storm?"

"That's right." George nodded.

Fragments of the dusty past and memories emerged little by little from the conversation, and then spread all over the ground like sand.

"29 years ago, the government sent a research ship to Brixham to open up to tourism, and my father was the captain."

George was so calm that he didn't seem like the person involved. "The result is predictable. Everyone on the ship was buried together in the storm that seemed to be drowning the world."

"Uh...my condolences..."

John didn't know what to say for a moment.

He rubbed his face, "Damn it, I don't know what to do without wine. Wait a moment, I'll go back to the bar to get a bottle of wine and be back soon!"

John pushed himself up from the ground.

"No thanks, Boss."

George shrugged. "It's just some old stuff. If you hadn't been stressing age and time to me today, I would have forgotten it."

"...How strange. In my impression, Mr. Strictly would not lie to people."

John patted him on the butt like an elder brother. "If you don't care, why did you come to Brixham? Didn't you graduate from a university in London?"

“Nothing is different.”

George said, "I'm not short of money. Instead of breathing exhaust gas in London, I'd rather come here. At least the environment is good, isn't it?"

"Alright, alright, why do you have to be so stubborn? We are the only two stinky men here."

John checked the time on his phone.

"It's 7:40 now... Just treat it as a follow-up to the conversation at the bar. Tell me about your unknown past, and then go back to bed. Well, get enough sleep for eight hours, and I will allow you to be late tomorrow."

George was quiet for a long time.

But maybe I've been holding it in for too long.

Or maybe it's the atmosphere...

He unbuttoned the top button of his shirt and let the cold air blow over his heart.

"Okay." He said, "I did come here for another purpose, but it's not what you think..."

"It's been 29 years. I don't have any attachment to them. My adoptive parents have been very good to me..."

"I came to this town just to find out the real cause of their death, that's all."

John's hand froze for a moment. "The real cause of death? Wasn't it because of the accident caused by the storm?"

"Maybe." George wasn't sure.

He looked at the white bird landing on the beach.

"In fact, I was on the phone with my father just before the storm hit... Fortunately, or unfortunately, I heard the whole process of the ship sinking."

He paused, as if recalling the storm coming from the other end of the phone.

"I was six years old that year. I can't tell whether many details are facts or my excessive imagination. But there is one thing that I remember vividly until now."

“…I heard a voice.”

George took a deep breath. "A very loud and majestic sound. Like a lion, or a whale... I can't describe it specifically."

"Since I was 18, I have been searching zoos and oceanariums around the world. I have used all my vacations to travel, but I have still not found anything."

His eyes were fixed on the gradually darkening sea.

"and."

"I also heard my father shouting in panic on the phone: 'Oh! God! What is that? There is something under the sea! It's so big!'"

"Then there was the sound of the water rushing out to sea, and my father's screams as the ship's planks cracked and it sank in the whirlpool."

George's voice was very soft, but he could imitate every word and even the tone of voice at the time.

"It's been 29 years. I have forgotten even what he looks like, but I remember this one thing clearly."

(End of this chapter)