In the near future, brimming with infinite possibilities.
In District 19 of the metropolis, within the luxurious and comfortable CityScape Dental Care clinic, a tall female dentist seemed satisfied after examining Dr. James's teeth. Dr. James was happy with the results, as stem cell regenerative teeth truly surpassed any artificial alternatives. This technique, which had been a dream 30 years ago, now seemed quite mature. He considered raising money to regenerate his short-sighted eyes, but suddenly, he heard the name of his lab mentioned on the holographic TV program on the wall.
"Doctor, could you turn up the TV volume?"
"Certainly, Dr. James." The female dentist turned towards the TV wall and softly said,"Increase the volume."
The screen showed worried citizens outside the new city bio-lab protesting with banners. Some cheered for the rumored breakthrough medical advances in development, while others questioned the risks of such dangerous facilities near homes. Rumors of biohazard risks and unauthorized experiments had already quietly spread through society.
Half an hour later, Dr. James irritably tossed away his coffee cup and returned to the lab. Through the bright isolation glass, he operated a robotic arm to remove a tissue sample from the cadaver of a dire wolf on the dissection table and carefully placed it into a petri dish.(Ref Pubang's books series 1"The night of hunting games")
The large glass in front of him transformed into a huge screen, displaying a magnified view of spores floating in the liquid in the petri dish. They appeared to be some form of life awakening. His breathing quickened, and his eyes reflected a blend of excitement and deep longing for something big.
He touched his thinning hairline and pulled out a photo from his phone. It was from ten years ago, showing him and his college friends at a reunion. Everyone else in the photo looked successful—some had become top researchers at famous companies, while others were chief scientists in prestigious labs. But James Reed was just a struggling, unknown researcher in a second-rate lab. Since then, he had always found excuses to avoid reunions because he couldn't bear the well-meaning but pitying questions from his classmates, especially his wife Catherine's mocking comment:"You're just afraid of being embarrassed, can't stand seeing others doing better than you."
"Embarrassed..." James repeated softly, uncontrollably banging his fist on the desk. It wasn't that he didn't try, but his research never made any big breakthroughs. His grant applications were either rejected or reduced. His workbench was full of old equipment discarded from other labs. He knew his time was running out. Without results, he would be completely sidelined and might even lose his job.
A month ago, he managed to obtain a sample from a rural village that was slated for destruction (reference "Series 1, The Night of Hunting Games"). It was a dead animal—a direwolf's body, carrying a special fungus called "black flower fungus." Lab rules clearly stated that such high-risk samples were not suitable for his lab, but James felt his heart race. A wild thought struck him: if this fungus could truly alter the host's genes and behavior as rumored, its value would be immeasurable!
"This is my chance!" James' palms were sweaty. He knew the risks but understood that only by seizing this chance could he make everyone take notice. He hid the sample in his research box and secretly altered the lab records to ensure no one would notice what the sample was.
The next morning, James began his secret experiment at the lab bench. His movements were very careful, but he felt an excitement he had never felt before. When the black flower spores first appeared under the microscope, showing their strange patterns, he felt like he was part of an epic discovery. Those tiny black lines seemed like unknown life codes, telling him some indescribable secret.
Suddenly, the door opened, and Dr. Monica walked in. She was James' assistant, young but very talented, often coming up with impressive ideas in the details. Though she had only been working for two years, everyone in the lab said that if she kept it up, she would soon be a superstar in science.
"Dr. James," Monica glanced at his nervous face, frowning,"What are you researching? This isn't... from the disaster outbreak area, is it? I thought they were all supposed to be destroyed."
James' heart sank but he quickly adjusted his expression, forcing a smile:"Monica, you know, sometimes we have to be a bit... flexible. Science requires risks, don't you understand?"
Monica's expression turned cold, and she whispered,"James, this is too dangerous! We know nothing about this fungus. If it really causes genetic mutations, it could threaten not just the lab but the whole city! This must be reported immediately!"
James gripped Monica's shoulder, his voice low but firm,"Monica, I know you're cautious and principled. But you must understand, we're all struggling in this lab. I know you also want better opportunities, to work in bigger labs, right?" He looked at her hesitant face and continued,""Let me tell you in advance, I just received a call from a major benefactor. They're going to provide us with a substantial amount of funding for this project. This benefactor is someone even the mayor wouldn't dare to cross.
This discovery could get us on the cover of Nature, make us the envy of everyone. If we succeed, your name will go down in history with mine. Monica, you're still young, you need to seize this chance."
Monica lowered her eyes, not answering immediately.
James' gaze turned cold,"Of course, if you want to switch sides, I don't mind. But remember, every new employer will need my recommendation."
Monica looked at James in shock. He was right. Her family wasn't wealthy, and her parents were heavily in debt for her tuition. If she could take this chance to advance her career, everything would change. But... she still felt uneasy.
"Dr. James," Monica took a deep breath,"Are you sure we can control this fungus?"
"Of course we can!" James replied firmly, his eyes burning with a madness Monica had never seen before,"I've observed it. These spores need a host to reproduce, and once the host dies, they stop. We can control them."
Monica looked at James' face, feeling a hint of unease. She knew she was on a dangerous path, but James' words were hard to resist. Finally, she whispered,"I hope you're right, Dr. James."
James' mouth curled into a satisfied smile. He patted Monica's shoulder, his voice full of confidence,"Don't worry, Monica, everything is under control."
Dr. Monica said nothing more, slumping weakly into a chair, her eyes vacant. She crossed herself, whispering,"Oh God, is this mysterious power your punishment for the world? Or a gift from Satan to humanity?"
————————-
Outside the quiet laboratory, the nightlife bustled.
A bearded cleaner in his thirties, Jack Carter, drove his car into the underground parking lot of District 19's laboratory. He didn't get out of the car right away. Instead, he lit a cigarette, hoping to perk himself up. Despite that, he still yawned as he pushed his cleaning cart into the lab's ventilation system. By regulation, two cleaners were supposed to work together—one to perform the tasks and the other to log records. But with the chronic staff shortage and his coworker on leave, Jack, burdened with the responsibility of supporting a large family, chose to work overtime to earn some extra money, even though his exhaustion was beginning to weigh him down.
The underground ventilation shaft was dim and narrow. Cold, white lights cast scattered shadows on the metal walls. After making sure the fans were off, Jack gritted his teeth, steadied himself on a ladder, and carefully climbed up to the top of the shaft. He held a brand-new filter in his hand, his thick rubber gloves soaked with sweat. Above him, the safety light flickered faintly, icy and piercing.
Jack removed the old filter and placed it in the tool bag at his feet. He inspected it—covered in dust and tiny black particles—and frowned."What a nasty thing," he muttered, wiping the sweat off his brow with his sleeve. Then he began installing the new filter, but after a few tries, he noticed something was wrong.
"Oh, man... wrong size again," Jack grumbled. He held the filter up to compare, then tried adjusting its angle, but it still wouldn't fit. Rolling his eyes, he cursed,"Damn contractors, can't even deliver the right size... this is a lab!"
Suddenly, his phone rang. The sharp ringtone echoed in the confined space, startling him so much that he nearly slipped off the ladder. He picked it up quickly, yanked off his gloves in frustration.
"What is it?" Jack snapped. On the other end of the line, his wife's sharp voice came through, almost stabbing into his ears.
"Melissa, can you quit naggin' me all the time? I'm workin' overtime to make some money! Or you wanna starve?" Jack's voice rose in anger, his free hand gripping the old filter he had just pulled out. His fingers pressed into the mesh, unconsciously rubbing against the black particles stuck to its surface. He didn't notice the tiny particles now clinging to his skin.
The argument grew more heated, and Jack hung up the phone in frustration. He sighed deeply, put the phone back in his pocket, and started to gather his tools to leave. He propped the new filter, which he hadn't installed, against the vent, thinking he would bring the right size tomorrow. Subconsciously, Jack wiped his hands on his pants when he got back into his car, but the invisible particles had already stuck to his skin. Annoyed, he took a big gulp from a bottle of vodka he had under his seat and sped off.
After Jack left, the shaft went silent. The new filter sat askew at the vent, and some black particles from the old filter had fallen on the floor. In the dim light, the particles seemed to shimmer slightly, as if they were slowly moving.
A bad event often happens due to a series of small mistakes.
The next day, the staff forgot to check the previous night's work records and habitually turned on the fans.
The faint hum of moving air persisted, carrying the spores gently upward. The particles were lifted in a delicate ripple, forming an invisible path as they floated further into the system. Soon, they passed through the unprotected ducts, forming an unseen drift in the air, quietly and effortlessly making their way toward the bustling city center.
It wasn't until two days later, in the control room, that Dr. James and Dr. Monica were monitoring the data."Look at this," Dr. James frowned,"the spores seem to have stopped growing."
Dr. Monica, savoring a cup of fine coffee, leaned toward the screen and teased,"Unless you left the door open and granted them a VIP pass to freedom."
Dr. James's expression shifted to one of concern."Something's not right… the spores shouldn't be—wait, what's happening with the fan data?" His coffee cup slipped from his hand, spilling across the floor in a wide splash. He didn't notice. With urgency, he moved toward the fan control panel, but it was already too late. The spores had begun their escape, dancing through the lab like freed spirits.
Suddenly, alarms blared, and crimson lights flashed across the room."Spore breach!" Dr. James shouted in alarm.
Dr. Monica grabbed the intercom, her voice sharp,"Emergency! We need to lock down the lab immediately!"