Chapter Seventy-Nine: Annihilation by Physical Force

“These insects have developed antibodies in their bodies and are already immune to most common insecticides,” Xie Congzhou said, feeling something was amiss.

Normally, for creatures to develop immunity and produce antibodies, they’d need prolonged exposure to the raw materials used in insecticide factories, with only the lucky survivors passing on such genes. Alternatively, they’d have to endure radiation, but this level of resistance…

A certain possibility came to Xie Congzhou’s mind, prompting him to carefully examine the other two animals. From them, he could sense traces of hybridization with other species.

He was now certain.

His expression darkened. “Natural disasters are unavoidable and unstoppable, but man-made calamities are even more disgusting, for they are self-inflicted.”

Such creatures could only be produced in experimental or breeding environments.

He wasn’t sure whether these had escaped or had been deliberately released. Now that they’d been found in the area, what about elsewhere?

As Xie Congzhou and the others worked to eliminate these hazards, relying repeatedly on primitive physical methods, in a secret laboratory in an underground bunker on the outskirts of City X, yet another batch of test subjects was being loaded onto trucks, heading toward other cities.

A catastrophe born of human ambition was spreading outward at alarming speed.

When it finally reached Jiang Huan, it was Jiang Xi who first discovered it.

His studies had progressed to the point where he could disassemble drones.

Jiang Huan, having no shortage of such devices, had given several to her brother to tinker with. Unexpectedly, under the guidance of his teachers, Jiang Xi had improved the drones she’d provided: fitting them with more cold-resistant shells, optimizing the cameras, and even enhancing their pressure resistance.

On days without pressing matters, Jiang Huan would take her brother out for walks. The streets were now patrolled by teams, making things much safer than before, and Jiang Xi would busy himself with his drones.

The photos he captured could be archived, and when he reviewed them, he discovered a species covered in scales—something never seen in any catalog or magazine. Given the recent appearance of the new snowfield rat, Jiang Huan reported this discovery to Captain Guan.

Two days later, Jiang Huan and Jiang Xi were summoned for questioning.

Captain Guan’s superior solemnly explained that they’d visited the location, captured several specimens alive, and confirmed it was indeed a new species. The strange thing was, these creatures had strong antibodies against the main ingredients in insecticides, and their habits made them particularly attracted to sugary foods. It was almost reflexive for them to seek out and contaminate such foods.

The contamination didn’t harm the insects, but the effects on humans could be severe—ranging from diarrhea, dehydration, and electrolyte imbalances to shock, and in serious cases, hemorrhaging of the stomach and intestines.

“At present, there’s no telling when food supplies will return to equilibrium. The appearance of these things is practically a tool of targeted destruction.”

Jiang Huan hadn’t thought so deeply about it.

But as the official spoke, she recalled something. “Earlier, I saw someone breeding snowfield rats in an abandoned courtyard. I also noticed that the guards were armed. In our city, firearms are mostly concentrated within the base, so I sent an anonymous tip to the base. Do you know how that was handled?”

“An anonymous tip?” The leader who’d received Jiang Huan was puzzled. “We never received a letter like that. Breeding snowfield rats? Until the capital confirms they can be safely consumed, the base would never permit their breeding. Our stance is to eradicate them.”

After all, the nation had emergency grain reserves—enough basic rations for the entire population for a year—and they were striving for more allocation.

If not for the unending natural disasters, and the fact that those overseeing the reserves dared not release them all at once, everyone might have made it through these months more safely.

There was no need to discuss these details with an ordinary person like Jiang Huan, but the missing anonymous letter left the leader first perplexed, then infuriated.

He seemed to have an idea of whom to suspect.

Jiang Huan had no interest in the internal strife or power struggles at the base. Seeing how seriously they were taking it, she took her leave.

This time, Captain Guan followed her out and handed her fifty rounds of ammunition. “There’s really nothing else we can do to thank you. Take these bullets. Headquarters has been slow to send us resupplies, and soon we’ll no longer be able to exchange ammo.”

Jiang Huan accepted them, then added, “Since those things are poisonous, it’s best to exterminate them at once, before they spread.”

Captain Guan nodded; he shared the same thought.

Jiang Huan assumed a solution would be found swiftly. Yet, within a few days, these creatures began appearing on the outskirts of the residential compound, and more insects even cropped up inside.

Some households, being a little less tidy, attracted the insects first. Some people, having eaten sweets before bed without washing up, only realized what had happened after their fingers were bitten and left bleeding.

Grisly photos were shared in the community group, followed by renewed questions about the residential security measures.

But most believed that while you could defend against thieves, it was impossible to guard against such tiny pests. Better to lock the doors and spray some insecticide.

The angry resident tried different insecticides, only to find they had no effect.

Then a second and third household experienced the same issue.

Jiang Huan and her brother conducted a search at home. Since they rarely used the kitchen, there was no greasy smell in the rooms, but they still found a few expertly hidden insects in the kitchen cabinets.

The largest rivaled southern cockroaches in size, while the smaller ones were the size of oothecae, darting about without any fear of humans.

Nearby, there were even clusters of white eggs. In such cold weather, they could lay eggs directly on the icy cabinet surfaces—a testament to their tenacity.

Even after the apocalypse, when true cockroaches—famous for their resilience—were practically unseen, Jiang Huan had never encountered two of them.

It took considerable effort for the siblings to kill the insects they found. Jiang Huan then bagged all the condiments and grains the pests had crawled over, intending to burn them later.

She scrubbed the kitchen thoroughly with disinfectant.

After finishing, Jiang Huan inspected the floors above and below. Both the planting and hydroponic rooms had suffered to varying degrees. Her face grew cold. The vegetables she’d worked so hard to grow were now suspect—any of them could have come into contact with the slime, been crawled over, or even had eggs laid on them.

With the exception of a few survivors protected under covers, most of the vegetables were uprooted and thrown into trash bags. When she later took them out to burn, she truly felt a pang of heartache.

But even more so, she felt revulsion.

Taking her brother out for walks became taking him out to hunt and kill insects. What was absurd was that the pests were utterly unfazed by insecticides; Jiang Huan resorted to using a fire extinguisher and a flamethrower, first paralyzing them, then burning them alive.

By the end of the day, she’d exterminated dozens. For a while, the areas she and her brother visited were exceptionally “clean.”