Yu Xifeng put on gloves and carefully examined half of the cockroach.

At first glance, it looked like a cockroach, but it was actually thinner and more narrow, with wings as delicate as cicada wings.

Yu Xifeng remembered this type—it was a mutated species of cockroach, known for its speed and terrifying reproductive ability.

Even if you killed one, the eggs on its corpse could still hatch.

Yu Xifeng’s house had been recently renovated, and she always kept it impeccably clean.

Preliminary judgment: the cockroach had crawled in through a ventilation gap.

Based on the timing, it lined up with the recent cockroach outbreak in the neighborhood.

Little Orange stared longingly at the half-cockroach in Yu Xifeng’s hand.

“Good job,” Yu Xifeng said, rubbing Little Orange’s head.

Little Orange looked at the cockroach, then back at Yu Xifeng.

“…Thanks, but I’m not eating that.”

The two stared at each other for a while before Little Orange finally understood Yu Xifeng wasn’t going to eat it.

Disappointed, its tail drooped—then it quickly gobbled up the remaining half.

Yu Xifeng didn’t stop it.

Judging what’s food is an instinct for living creatures—animals are far sharper than humans in that regard.

Just like toxins accumulate through the food chain, after a natural disaster, so can mutations.

Yu Xifeng had enough food and wasn’t about to take that kind of risk.

But watching how happily Little Orange ate, Yu Xifeng rubbed her chin in thought.

Little Orange didn’t look much different from a regular cat—just a bit fluffier and more attractive.

She wondered what it might eventually mutate into.

She had stocked up on plenty of insecticide, but with Little Orange around, it didn’t seem necessary for now.

She thoroughly inspected her home—sealed the drains with cement and closed all ventilation openings.

That night, Yu Xifeng heard faint rustling sounds in the living room.

She opened the door and saw Little Orange clinging to the ceiling. Scattered across the floor were more than a dozen cockroach corpses.

It was a shocking scene.

Yu Xifeng couldn’t figure out how Little Orange had even gotten up there.

Bad news: there were cockroach eggs in the house.

Good news: they weren’t a match for Little Orange.

Little Orange kicked off the wall, landed smoothly, and came over to rub against Yu Xifeng’s leg, tail flicking.

Yu Xifeng petted its furry head as a reward.

That night, she broke her own rules and let Little Orange sleep in the bedroom.

The neighborhood chat group was flooded with new photos.

Very few households had insecticide. Most people simply stomped cockroaches to death.

Yu Xifeng frowned deeply as she scrolled through the posts.

She thought for a moment, then typed her second message since joining the group:

“If I remember right, if you don’t have insecticide, you can catch them and burn them—it works too.”

Day 40 of the torrential rain.

Group message:
“The cockroaches are even worse now. I swear something crawled on my face while I was sleeping. I turned on the light and nearly died of fright.”

The attached photo showed cockroaches swarming in layers, stacked as tall as a child.

“They ate all the rice and flour in my house! I might as well die—what kind of world is this?”

“So many bugs in the drains—I almost threw up my leftovers.”

“The bathroom is full of these damn things!”

“Someone said earlier—don’t kill them! Killing them just makes it worse. You have to catch them and burn them!”

“I’m losing my mind.”

When Yu Xifeng woke up, something sounded different.

Outside the window, swarms of cockroaches were beating against the glass.

No one knew where they came from, but they were trying frantically to swarm the entire building.

Separated by just a pane of glass, Yu Xifeng watched the grotesque creatures. They looked slightly different again—now with spiny shells.

Little Orange jumped onto the windowsill, claws twitching in excitement.

This time, Yu Xifeng didn’t let it go.

There were simply too many bugs. Little Orange couldn’t possibly eat them all.

Letting them in would be easy—getting them out would be a nightmare.

Fortunately, her previous precautions had worked. The cockroaches couldn’t find a way into her apartment and instead surged into the neighboring unit.

That balcony had clothes hanging out to dry. The cockroaches crashed into them headfirst, the fabric swaying like ghostly shadows in the dim light.

Screams echoed through the glass, drowned out by the deafening buzz of wings.

Yu Xifeng checked the security footage outside her door. The hallway’s glass had shattered, and the cockroaches had flooded in. The video showed them layered thick, practically blocking the entrance.

There was no food outside, so the cockroaches wouldn’t linger long.

Yu Xifeng thought, If these things ate humans, barely one percent of the neighborhood would survive.

But even if they didn’t, things were grim enough. After the infestation, what little food the residents had left would be almost entirely gone.

The situation in the complex would only become more dangerous.

These thoughts circled in her mind as she headed to the gym, training as usual.

Strength, agility, technique—she had to maintain it all.

If you don’t use the human body, it deteriorates. She needed to stay sharp at all times.

For lunch, she had boiled shrimp for protein, stir-fried sweet potato leaves, and a starchy sausage.

As a reward, she gave Little Orange a can of food. Little Orange sniffed it, then went off to groom itself—probably already full on cockroaches.

Yu Xifeng had a strange feeling—it seemed like Little Orange had grown a bit bigger.

Life went on as usual for Yu Xifeng—peaceful, in a way.

On the same floor, Sister Yun was carefully spraying insecticide into a sealed drain.

Even though she had stuffed it with cloth, the damn cockroaches kept forcing their way in—it was only a matter of time before they broke through.

Only after spraying did she finally manage to slow the insect tide.

Sister Yun was grateful she had bought two bottles of insecticide when Yu Xifeng had stocked up.

She hadn’t even thought much about it at the time—just instinctively felt that Yu Xifeng wouldn’t do anything unnecessary.

And sure enough.

Without those two bottles, the cockroaches would’ve broken through and destroyed her food stores.

People in the group chat had said these cockroaches were like locusts—once they smelled food, they went berserk. They could chew through wood in just a few hours.

She couldn’t bear the thought of cockroaches crawling over her face while she slept.

She hid her food in various corners of the apartment, just in case someone—or the cockroaches—got it all in one go.

She also burned every bug she found on the stove, as people had suggested.

By the end of the day, she was utterly exhausted—both mentally and physically.

She collapsed onto the floor of her home. And then it happened.

**Zzzzzzt—**a sound everyone in the building heard.

The power went out.

For a high-rise, a power outage also meant no water.

Night fell. The air was suffocating.

Yu Xifeng tilted her head, unsurprised.

She calmly took out a battery from her storage space. After drawing the curtains, she turned on a desk lamp, the refrigerator, and the surveillance system.

The group chat fell quiet—everyone likely realized their phone batteries were limited.

It wasn’t just her building. The entire city district was plunged into darkness.

But darkness didn’t bring peace.

The rain kept falling.

And the water… was crawling with insects.