Chapter 5: Signs

The collapse of Northspire Haven Bridge exacerbated traffic congestion in the already narrow roads of Northspire Haven. Even at 10 p.m., the streets still glowed crimson with brake lights in a complete gridlock.

The number of vehicles heading out of the city seemed to have multiplied several times over. Apparently, they weren't the only ones who had noticed something amiss. Or perhaps these drivers hadn't thought deeply about it - just sought temporary escape from the endless rainy days and the pervasive "mold" that had become increasingly unbearable.

What should have been a forty-minute drive stretched into three hours. The only consolation was that, judging by the scenes along the road, the city still maintained a semblance of normal order.

After arriving home, Lin Feng parked haphazardly in the alley. As he yanked the handbrake, a cacophony of clanging erupted on the car roof - something had fallen onto it.

Switching his phone's flashlight on, Lin Feng revealed chunks of concrete debris coated with a blood-red viscous substance and mold-like "fuzz". The aging residential complex's exterior lacked tiles, its gray concrete surface now ominously transformed.

He aimed the weak phone light upward. Though the built-in flash couldn't illuminate far, every visible section of the wall now glistened crimson.

This boded ill.

With growing unease, Lin Feng entered his apartment. Before packing, he first called Maeve Chen.

The call connected instantly. "I'm here."

"I'm stuffed... hic"

Lin Feng paused, momentarily thrown.

"Those steamed buns you bought started developing mold spots after just one hour exposed to air. Had to eat all the edible ones before they spoiled."

"One hour... That's worse than expected." Lin Feng realized he'd underestimated the slime mold's proliferation rate. "Any findings on your end?"

Maeve Chen cleared her throat. "This slime mold exhibits extraordinary growth speed. Its spores complete germination and form protoplasmic masses within ninety minutes. The growth becomes visibly apparent when nutrients are abundant."

"Tolerance levels?"

"Common disinfectants only temporarily inhibit growth without killing it. The organism demonstrates remarkable adaptability - many reagents have become ineffective. It's even developed alcohol-digesting capabilities now."

"Only strong acids or alkalis cause significant damage."

"Extreme temperatures prove lethal - both freezing and high heat. Maintaining dry conditions suppresses spore germination and growth."

"Corrosive properties?"

Maeve Chen clicked her tongue. "Running dozens of parallel trials. Preliminary data shows it breaks down various organic materials for sustenance – plastics included. The organic acids it secretes corrode iron plates, concrete, rock formations, even rubber compounds."

"Still observing other parameters. I'll send you the data in a bit."

"Alright..." Lin Feng paused. "Don't overdo it. Pushing yourself to exhaustion won't help anyone now."

"Relax, I know my limits," Maeve Chen chuckled. "What's your move?"

"Activating the compensation fund. Need to stock up on essentials while currency still holds value." Lin Feng spoke deliberately.

"I've got some research grants set aside – I'll wire it to you shortly! And..." she added pointedly, "prioritize crop seeds. Current observations confirm the slime mold retains saprophytic characteristics – no infection detected in living plants. If worst comes to worst, homegrown crops might become our primary food source."

"Noted."

"You could evacuate to my place when needed. Got decent acreage there, plus a wooded hillside."

Lin Feng, unsure how to respond to the abrupt invitation, answered with a faint smile, "Understood."

After hanging up, Lin Feng retrieved the compensation fund bank card buried at the bottom of his storage box. His fingers brushed against their high school graduation photo - a frozen moment where every face smiled at the camera except Maeve Chen's, her head tilted toward his teenage self in the frame.

A wry smile surfaced. Perhaps having companionship through the apocalypse counted as fortune.

Packing essentials into a hiking backpack, he descended to the deserted streets. The 24-hour supermarket's fluorescent lights cut through the humid night. A lone cashier glanced up from her phone, tracking his entrance with disinterest before resuming scrolling.

Lin Feng commandeered a jumbo cart, steering straight to the food section. Maeve's warnings echoed in his mind - dry-packaged goods for long-term storage - but the reality proved jarring. Shelves stood skeletal, scattered with orphaned ramen packets and dented cans.

"Plum rain season," the cashier drawled without looking up, her voice bouncing off empty aisles. "Fresh produce molds in hours. Everyone's hoarding non-perishables now. Need stock? We've got crates in back."

"All of them."

The woman finally met his gaze. "Just saying," she shrugged, rising with jingling keys, "you'll never finish these before the humidity lets up. Buyer's remorse incoming."

"Appreciated. Still taking everything."

In the end, every instant noodle pack, canned good, and vacuum-sealed sausage from the warehouse filled his compact electric car until the driver's seat became a contortionist's challenge. The silver-lined cookware he'd impulsively grabbed protruded dangerously close to the steering wheel.

Supply chains held, barely. Through the waning hours of night, Lin Feng shuttled provisions home, then raided three more supermarkets until securing enough rations to sustain two people for half a year.

The electric vehicle's limitations screamed through each trip - cramped storage, dwindling battery icons. Come dawn, he'd trade this eco-friendly trap for a secondhand pickup.

By 4:37 a.m., raindrops tattooed his windshield as he texted Maeve Chen updates. Predictably, no response - her circadian rhythm finally claiming victory over scientific obsession.

Two hours of fitful sleep later, gray dawn revealed the rooftop panorama. Crimson biomass now veined entire city blocks, metastasis visible since yesterday's survey. What fresh horrors would tomorrow's light expose?

Descending, he found the alley transformed: concrete chunks piled like glacial moraines, building skeletons exposing rust-eaten rebar where new slime mold colonies pulsed hungrily.

The electric car's feeble whirr hadn't carried him three blocks when Maeve Chen's call shattered the damp silence.

"Critical development." Her voice rasped with sleep deprivation. "Overnight field samples show mutation rates exceeding all models. Ten distinct variants emerging - we're not dealing with a single species anymore."

"Genetic recombination?"

"I... can't confirm." A petri dish clattered in the background. "This defies every known evolutionary pattern. It's like watching accelerated speciation in fast-forward."