Chapter 81: Battle with the Mutant Beast (5)

The Ministry of Industry designed numerous cat cages and placed them at entrances to subway stations deep underground. When cats are in their infancy, they must be protected so they won't be eaten by rats; at other times, they freely hunt rats in the subway. The rat colonies are managed by the Ministry of Agriculture’s breeding division, which regularly supplies vast quantities of meat to the Ministry of Civil Affairs. Those who know the truth refuse to eat this zombie-bred rat meat.

The Ministry of Agriculture takes this matter very seriously: with enough rats, meat production is assured. They even submitted a formal report to establish a Department of Rat Husbandry. After approval, a recruitment fair was held for the position of Rat Director.

The above-ground subway entrances, having blocked access to underground transfer points, also sealed in the zombies within. They left them there for the rats to dispose of. Subsequently, power to the subway was cut off. The industrial teams strung several wires near the platforms, installed lights and cameras, so that power could be restored temporarily for inspections when needed.

Several city rail lines above ground have been reclaimed, but only Line 13 has restored power and operates normally. The city defense forces have sealed several transfer stations along Line 13. Since Line 13 runs along the northern edge of Beijing, from Dongzhimen to Xizhimen, its utility is limited and only a few trains run each day.

The main activity zones and mechanical bases are concentrated in the southern part of the city. The north is largely occupied by high-tech industrial parks, such as the Shangdi High-Tech Park, which are not yet prioritized for restoration. The focus is first on solving basic industrial infrastructure before moving on to these advanced tech facilities.

As for the rats, they can only wait it out until the cat population rises enough to control them. Equipment damage in the subway caused by rat gnawing is simply unavoidable.

Meanwhile, the sky is increasingly filled with giant birds.

These birds come in all shapes and sizes; some raptors fly toward the northern and western mountain ranges. After years of captivity, their wild nature still prevails. Soaring high, they easily spot the lush forests and feel as if they've found their dream homeland.

Many linger above Beijing, establishing camps and building nests atop skyscrapers. With their gigantism, nest-building materials have changed drastically; small twigs are no longer sufficient. They often uproot roadside trees and seize power lines and cables, piling them haphazardly atop buildings to create nests devoid of any aesthetic appeal.

The appearance of these primitive structures atop modern skyscrapers lends a surrealist touch to the cityscape.

After solving their housing needs, the giant birds begin to lay eggs and nurture their young. Most are gentle-natured, the law-abiding citizens among birds. They rise early and return late, working hard—all for their families.

At first, someone unscrupulously stole a bird egg, as large as a football, for laboratory testing, intending to eat it. When the birds couldn't find their eggs, they anxiously fluttered around the building, some even crashing into walls in desperation.

This stirred the compassion of animal rights activists, who strongly condemned such disregard for bird welfare. The egg thief retorted, “Are you providing them with food?” and silenced them all.

Many of the birds are herbivores, but their appetites are enormous. They hijacked several Civil Affairs trucks transporting grain, with just two or three birds devouring an entire truckload. The Ministry of Civil Affairs felt immense pressure as a result.

After analyzing the nutritional value of the bird eggs, the Ministry classified them as a special food for pregnant women, infants, and the elderly—rich in nutrients. The egg thief was praised and granted a week of work meal privileges.

Previously, he had only non-work meal rations and often drooled over the diverse, nutritious work meals. His bird egg theft was simply driven by irresistible craving.

Thrilled, this avian criminal stole a newly hatched chick, stuffed it in his backpack, and sent it for testing. The results showed it could also be used as food, earning him another week of work meal privileges.

The Ministry of Agriculture, seeing this, took over supervision of these birds from the Forestry Ministry. They reserved several buildings exclusively for breeding and regularly dispatched people to steal eggs and chicks, providing the Civil Affairs Ministry with a food source.

Inspired, the pre-apocalypse musician now transformed into a post-apocalypse bird criminal, broadened his horizons. He frequently ventured into areas inhabited by mutated animals, conducting research, mainly to determine which were edible.

After several successful experiments, he honorably left the basic labor force's non-work meal ranks. Many mutated creatures fell victim to his appetites, though he faced countless dangers—some giant animals were certainly not vegetarians.

Eventually, a few mutated creatures remembered him and blocked his door daily, demanding the return of their loved ones.

Comparing his scrawny limbs to the monstrous beasts, and weighing his committee-issued weapons against their fangs and claws, he decided to remain civilized and not stoop to their level. Wisely, he requested a transfer to another area.

Some birds whose homeland lay outside Asia circled above the zoo several times, let out a long cry, and flew toward their native lands, vanishing without a trace.

Among all the mutated animals, the poisonous snakes proved the most troublesome. They slithered through the basements of various buildings, winding back and forth, each as thick as half a person and several dozen meters long.

The Special Committee racked their brains to deal with these mutant giant snakes. In the end, they publicly posted the problem, hoping someone could solve it.

A snake expert took up the challenge, thinking it would be child's play. Before the apocalypse, he often captured snakes for food or medicinal purposes. During the apocalypse, he was resting at home in the western district, preparing for a research trip to Snake Island in Dalian. After being rescued by the Special Committee, he was relegated to basic labor tasks.

Armed with his snake-catching gear and full of confidence, he arrived on site. From a distance, he saw a snake as thick as half a person, flicking a crimson tongue as wide as a human head, its emotionless eyes scanning the surroundings. Despite knowing snakes have poor vision, he was so terrified he fainted.

He was quickly dragged back by the soldiers. Upon awakening, he tearfully pleaded to return to his promising transport work, and from then on, became a model of dedication, never mentioning the incident again.

According to Chinese tradition, the People's Liberation Army handles all difficult problems. The task was handed over to the military.

After observing the snakes’ range and hunting patterns, the cunning strategists buried numerous sharp blades in the ground, points upward. The giant snakes were slashed open, their guts spilling everywhere, writhing in agony before dying.

Mutant beasts either died or fled, those suitable for domestication found their place, and the situation was largely resolved.

Meanwhile, Li Fengyi’s campaign to eliminate a million zombies caused quite a stir. Sometimes, Sun Xiaoshan admired his fifth brother—wherever he went, things were always spectacular and lively.