The atmosphere in the wide, mossy valley turned instantly volatile. Just as Director Zhao called out the final five-minute warning over the megaphone, a sudden, heavy dampness dropped over the forest like a suffocating blanket.
The humid air ruptured with a violent crack of thunder, and a torrential tropical downpour began to pelt the dense canopy. The driving rain turned the quiet forest floor into a chaotic, echoing drumbeat of falling water within seconds, instantly turning the rich black loam into a treacherous mire.
"Hurry up! Final tallies! Keep moving!" Wu Haoran shouted over the deafening roar of the rain, frantically wiping streams of water from his eyes as he threw a few more white-capped fungi into his woven basket. "Don't let the downpour ruin the integrity of the specimens! We need that chili oil!"
