Chapter 333: Environmental Accord·Initiation of Ecological Transformation

Zhao Jianguo walks out of the underground safety room; the corridor lights are still on, as white as before, making his face look bloodless. The entry ticket in his hand has already been slipped into his pocket, its corners more frayed. After that phone call ended, the surge in his chest remains, and he can't stop. One thing after another, you catch a breath, the Earth doesn't wait for anyone.

The door of the Main Control Hall is open, as if waiting just for him to return. Inside there's no one, only the central holographic Earth floating in mid‑air, blue‑green, rotating at a leisurely pace. Zhao Jianguo walks over, stops, and raises his hand into the air.

"System, retrieve Chen Jianguo's data packet."

As soon as the words finish, a line of text pops up on the Screen: 【Identity verification passed, agreement file decrypted】. Then a document titled "2050 Environmental Agreement" slowly unfolds; beneath the title is a long list of parameters and time nodes, dense and headache‑inducing. But he knows this isn't for reading, it's for action.

He swipes across the Screen, quickly flipping to the feasibility analysis page. Carbon concentration curves, glacier retreat rates, ocean acidification indices… a slew of numbers jump out, none looking good. The most striking is the final line of conclusion: if the current model persists, by 2050 only 38% of the world's habitable land will remain, and extreme weather events will occur 6.7 times the current annual average.

Zhao Jianguo stares at that line for three seconds, then clicks Confirm.

"Initiate Atmospheric Carbon Capture Network Deployment Plan, prioritizing coverage of East Asia, North America, and Western Europe high‑emission zones, and activate the first batch of unmanned engineering platforms."

【Executing command… Global Ecological Transformation System activated】

The holographic Earth model above suddenly changes color; the previously uniform blue‑green begins to show specks of pale gold, like sand sprinkled over it. Each speck represents a carbon capture station about to be deployed, positioned to the exact latitude and longitude. Northwest suburb of Beijing, Chicago lakeside, Rhine Valley… these locations will automatically assemble giant filtration towers within seventy‑two hours and begin sucking CO₂ from the air.

Zhao Jianguo doesn't smile, nor does he sigh. He knows that once this step is taken, there's no turning back.

Sure enough, in less than ten minutes, chaos erupts outside.

Shouts come from the Public Information Square; even through the glass wall they're audible. He walks over and sees a group of people in green Coats holding signs outside the fence, the signs reading things like "Nature cannot be altered", "Respect native ecology", "Who gave you the authority?" The leader's voice is especially loud, pointing at the holographic screen inside and shouting: "You're committing ecological tyranny! Forcibly overwriting the existing system—what about the local species? Who's responsible if the migratory bird routes through wetlands are cut off?"

Security personnel block the perimeter, neither using force nor letting anyone in. The scene isn't violent, but the smell of gunpowder is already in the air.

Zhao Jianguo doesn't disperse the crowd, nor does he hide behind the Control Console. He opens the broadcast system, his voice transmitting directly outside: "Everyone, I can hear you. Which area worries you most? Just name the place."

The person pauses, apparently not expecting a response. After a hesitation, they point north and shout: "Lake Baikal area! Your so‑called 'Ecological Grid' will cut across the migratory bird corridor—we have satellite maps!"

Zhao Jianguo nods, draws a line with his finger, pulls up a three‑dimensional simulation and projects it onto the large screen in the square's center. On the left is the projection of "maintaining the status quo": by 2050, the Baikal region's temperature rises 4.8 °C, the lake shrinks by one‑third, surrounding forests die in large swaths, and bird habitats decrease by 71%. On the right is the forecast after "agreement‑based transformation": carbon balance restored within ten years, lake ecosystem stability improves, and bird activity range actually expands.

"See?" he points to the right, "If we don't change, they won't survive. Change gives them a new home."

The crowd outside quiets for a few seconds. Some look at their phones, probably checking data; others whisper, their faces turning pale. The earlier shouter also falls silent, still holding the sign, not putting it down.

Another woman's voice rises from behind: "Even if the goal is right, the means can't be so brutal! You didn't even hold a hearing, you just activated it—what kind of democratic process is that?"

Zhao Jianguo remains unhurried, offering no defense of the system. He simply says: "If we wait for a hearing to finish before acting, by then even the people holding the hearing will have to wear oxygen masks to go outside."

With that, a few people laugh; not many, but the atmosphere does loosen a bit.

He continues: "I know you fear not change, but loss of control. Yet nature is already out of control. Polar bears starve on melting ice, coral reefs bleach entirely, fish in the upper reaches of the Yangtze can't reach their spawning grounds—these aren't 'pristine environments', they're diseased. We're not trying to dominate nature; we're trying to help it survive."

After speaking, he pulls up another set of data: a Global Endangered Species Quantity Trend Chart. The red line climbs steadily, projecting an extinction rate over 40% by 2050; the blue line, after implementing the ecological transformation plan, shows the extinction rate dropping year by year, stabilizing below 8% after ten years.

"You protect life, we protect life as well. The only difference is the scale we choose."

No one shouts in the square any longer. Some fold their signs, some turn and walk away, and a few remain standing, heads down, scanning the data as if digesting something.

Zhao Jianguo turns off the Projection, steps back to the Main Control Console. The holographic Earth continues to rotate, gold specks multiplying like stars lighting up one by one. He knows this wave of opposition won't stop here. Environmental groups will issue statements, the media will hype it, perhaps even a nation will seize the opportunity. But now, the first step has already been taken.

He feels the entry ticket in his pocket; it's frayed—he'd squeezed it so hard it's torn in half.

He smiles faintly and tosses it into the nearby recycling bin.

At that moment, the System Prompt tone chirps softly.

【Chen Jianguo projection signal briefly accessed, lasting 0.3 seconds, content: "Agreement operating normal"】

Zhao Jianguo raises an eyebrow, asks nothing. He knows that person is always elusive; even a brief signal is a courtesy.

He gives the Earth model one last glance, turns toward the exit. His steps are unhurried, and he doesn't look back. The hall lights remain bright, the equipment runs smoothly, everything appears ordinary.

But some things have already changed.

He walks through the corridor, rounds two bends, and enters the elevator. He presses "Ground Floor", and the doors close slowly.

Just before the doors seal, he suddenly remembers something, looks up at the surveillance camera in the ceiling corner. Its red light flashes once, as if winking.

The elevator begins its descent.