Just as all fell into despair and nearly abandoned hope, a piece of transoceanic news caught everyone’s attention.

The story reported that countless landmines remained in post-war regions overseas. Manual removal was extremely dangerous and inefficient. A research team had pioneered a revolutionary method: using rats for mine detection, thanks to their sharp sense of smell, agile movement, and small size. Specially trained rats could accurately detect explosive chemicals inside mines, navigate freely without triggering detonation, and send clear signals once they located a mine. Their efficiency and safety far surpassed human workers, making them invaluable allies in post-war demining efforts.

This practical, real-world example instantly awakened the stalled research team of the Southern Continent.

Ecologists and behavioral scientists gathered at once for intense debates, and a bold, subversive idea took shape:

If rats could be trained to detect mines, why could they not be trained to locate their own kind’s nests and destroy the root of the plague?

Every human method so far had only killed adult rats above ground.

None had struck the core of the infestation: the intricate, hidden burrows underground.

As long as the nests survived and the young remained unharmed, the rat swarm could never be fully eradicated.

And to locate these perfectly concealed burrows, no guide was more suitable than the rats themselves.

The plan passed unanimously.

The state government immediately allocated special funding and formed a task force uniting top experts in behavior, biology, and mechanical engineering to build an elite rat agent team.

The team selected brown rats with moderate size, strong smell, and decent obedience as trainees.

They abandoned cruel and harmful methods, using gentle conditioning and non-invasive micro brain chips for professional training. Each rat agent was equipped with a tiny wireless camera, high-precision cave detector, and positioning sensor — all non-invasively attached and transmitting in real time.

After three months of rigorous training, the first fifty rat agents mastered all commands.

They could precisely track wild rat nests without merging with wild colonies.

Once a target was found, they instantly sent location and live footage to the team.

They were released in the most infested areas, pastures and farmlands where even the Li Hua cats could not reach.

A direct strike against the heart of the rat plague had officially begun.

When the rat agents burrowed underground and transmitted live footage to the surface monitors,

every scientist and worker present was left speechless.

The hidden rat kingdom beneath the ground was far more sophisticated than anyone had imagined — a fully functional underground micro-city, forged by millions of years of evolutionary survival wisdom.

Rats were deeply social creatures.

A mature colony numbered from dozens to hundreds, with strict hierarchy and clear division of labor, much like a human city-state. Every rat had a role, keeping the entire kingdom functioning.

At the center stood the Rat King.

Larger and stronger than ordinary rats, with dark, glossy fur and fierce, alert eyes, he was the most powerful and dominant member. He did not labor. He ruled, marked territory, directed foraging and defense, and decided the colony’s survival. His scent was the ultimate law; all others obeyed without question, maintaining order.

Around him, the colony operated with perfect coordination:

Scout rats were the vanguard — small, fast, and fearless. They ventured out first daily to search for food and danger, leaving scent signals for the group. They were the eyes and sentinels.

Worker rats formed the largest group. They dug, repaired tunnels, stored food, cleaned nests, and cared for the young, bearing all construction and logistical burdens.

Soldier rats were the defenders — aggressive, sharp-toothed, guarding critical passages, fighting predators and rival colonies to protect their home.

Nurse rats, mostly adult females, tended and fed the young deep within the nest, ensuring the kingdom’s endless reproduction — the foundation of its survival.

Supporting this entire society was an underground burrow system as engineered as human mines.

The entire network lay one to three meters underground.

Main tunnels were wide and smooth, connecting all zones.

Branch passages crisscrossed endlessly, easing travel and confusing enemies.

Walls were polished tight by workers, stable and hard to collapse.

The layout was coldly, brilliantly efficient.

The outermost layer was the security and foraging zone — narrow, winding, with hidden exits for scouts and quick escapes.

Deeper inside stood the grain storage chambers: separate dry, ventilated caves holding grain, seeds, and fruit, enough to keep the colony alive for months.

Nearby was a dedicated waste zone, far from living and food areas, preventing contamination and disease.

At the very heart, safest and most concealed, lay the nursery and the Rat King’s chamber, lined with soft grass and feathers, warm and secure.

Most astonishing of all was the natural ventilation system.

Workers had left slanted, narrow air holes connecting the underground to the surface, creating natural airflow and circulation. Even deep underground, the nests remained fresh, cool, and oxygen-rich — as delicate and effective as human mine ventilation, a miracle of evolution.

Before the monitors, everyone fell silent.

Everett watched the orderly, majestic rat kingdom, his heart overwhelmed.

Humans had tried only brute force to destroy the rats, yet never bothered to understand their laws of survival.

Now, through the rat agents themselves, they finally saw why the plague always returned — and found the key to ending it.

The rat agents sent back precise locations, layouts, and colony sizes.

The team abandoned toxic poisons entirely, using gentle nest sealing and biological sterilization to target the core of the infestation.

This method eliminated the plague at its source, caused no soil pollution, and required no invasive species — ending all ecological backlash.

But just as everyone believed the final solution had arrived,

new danger quietly emerged.

The micro brain chips began to affect the agents’ nervous systems. Some grew erratic and uncontrollable.

Among the wild rats, the massive Rat King sensed the intruders and impending doom.

He let out piercing, furious cries, ordering soldier rats to block the agents.

At the same time, he led his colony to dig new, secret tunnels overnight,

attempting to evacuate their entire kingdom and escape annihilation.