Book 1: Chapter 6: Those Who Listen to Thunder

Book 1: Chapter 6: Those Who Listen to Thunder

During the process of listening to the tapes, I had recorded a lot of the sounds into the computer to prevent the tapes from demagnetizing. I rummaged through the tapes, found the box I had numbered, and then found the corresponding number files in the computer. As I played the thunder I just recorded and the sound files in the computer, I compared them bit by bit.

Soon, the two thunder recordings started to synchronize, until the thunder I just recorded and the thunder in the computer overlapped perfectly.

The frequency and state were almost exactly the same.

I took two steps back and let the two recordings play repeatedly. I could tell that Fatty was puzzled, so I pointed to the computer and told him that this thunder was recorded more than ten years ago. I then pointed to the thunder playing on the tape recorder, which had been recorded during the thunderstorm just now.

The two recordings were exactly the same.

The fact that two thunderstorms separated by more than ten years were exactly the same was absolutely impossible. Even if we assumed this was a coincidence, the probability was infinitely close to zero.

It was really creepy once I thought about it, and it stirred up my curiosity that had been calm for a long time. I realized that this was different from all the situations I had encountered before, but I couldnt figure out what was going onhow the fuck was this possible?The source of this content nov(el)bi((n))

Were the thunder gods copying each other?

The two thunder recordings kept playing repeatedly, and my mind gradually entered an endless loop. A voice kept telling me that there had to be a reasonable explanation for this since all the unreasonable things I had encountered before had eventually been explained reasonably. But another voice kept telling me that the things I had encountered before were completely different from what I was seeing now

I looked at Fatty, and he looked back at me seriously before saying, "It means theres hidden information in it."

After that, there was another flash of lightning outside the shop, thunder boomed, and it started to rain again. I looked at the pedestrians who were trying to take shelter from the rain again and asked him, "Who sent the message?"

"Only God knows," Fatty said.

I didnt sleep very well that night. For some reason, I kept dreaming about the bronze door, the video I saw before, that image of myself crawling on the ground, and countless lightning strikes streaking across the sky. I woke up at five in the morning. The rain was still falling intermittently and my scalp felt numb as I looked out the window at the dark clouds in the sky.

I flipped through all of Yang Daguang's things again and searched online for similar information, but still found nothing. I stared at his old ID card, looking at his face and the address on it. I finally realized that I needed to go to his hometown. It was the only place where there might be clues.

Before Fatty and I set off the next day, Wang Meng gave me a lonely look and asked, "Boss, why are you leaving as soon as you come back?" When I gave him another two hundred yuan, Fatty didn't even object. I saw that he didn't sleep well either, and had two huge black circles under his eyes. He told me that he couldn't figure it out. He didnt care that he had seen a lot of strange things over the past few decades, but he really couldn't understand how thunder could have a hidden message.

To make a long story short, we went to Yang Daguang's hometown village, showed his ID card and photos to people everywhere, and asked them some questions. To our surprise, Yang Daguang was very famous in his hometown, and almost all the old people knew him. They said that he was the only college student in the village at that time and later went to work in a government agency. But he never came back.

I asked if Yang Daguang had any relatives that were still alive. An old man told me that Yang Daguang didnt have any brothers and his father was his only relative, but he had been shot many years ago. They heard that it was because he was grave robbing. Not only was Yang Daguang very poor, but he was all alone at a very early age, so he didn't return to the village after he was admitted to university.

Fatty and I glanced at each other, and I thought to myself, theres a chance. I asked the old man where Yang Daguang's old house was. The old man shook his head and said that it was long gone, but the old grave was still there. The grave was a bit strange because no grass could grow there.