Chapter 138

Qin Yun opened the mission details.

Host Name: Qin Yun

Current Mission: Accumulate sales of 500 million units of the Dual-Machine Series. (Completed)

Mission Reward: Random Laboratory

…

The Dual-Machine Task was originally projected to be completed in October, but with the recent upgrade of the Technology Factory, the mission timeline had also moved up.

Qin Yun clicked on the reward.

“Congratulations, Host has received a Mid-Level Laboratory: Fengshan Oxygen Laboratory.”

Fengshan Oxygen Laboratory: Utilizes Klei Star’s latest artificial oxygen production method, providing more stable and sustainable oxygen generation. (For indoor and portable use only.)

With modern technological advancements, artificial oxygen production in Longxia had become commonplace. Common methods included heating potassium permanganate, electrolysis, molecular sieving, and membrane separation. A few years ago, oxygen bar cafés had even trended nationwide. Artificial oxygen production was no longer considered a difficult field of study.

After reading through the information, Liu Wensheng asked curiously, “Do other planets have oxygen too?”

“No idea,” Qin Yun shook his head. This was also his first time encountering a detailed explanation of oxygen production.

Curious as he was, Liu Wensheng still reported the discovery to Longxia immediately. The Oxygen Laboratory would occupy fifty mu of land, and after careful analysis, the Longxia Team selected a site just south of the Seed Laboratory. At 7 PM, Qin Yun and Liu Wensheng confirmed the location and headed straight there.

“The Dual-Machine Task is done?”

“What’s this Oxygen Laboratory?”

“Is it for producing oxygen from hydrogen peroxide?”

…

It was 7 PM, and the researchers had just finished dinner. Upon hearing the news, they gathered around.

After a brief exchange, all eyes turned to Qin Yun. He didn’t keep them in suspense and directly clicked to activate the reward. The ground trembled, and moments later, a two-story building in alternating shades of silver and black rose before them. The structure had clean, sharp lines and an imposing, majestic aesthetic.

“Matches the rest of the style pretty well.”

One of the researchers chuckled. The Farm already had the Seed Laboratory, the Virtual Laboratory, and the Technology Factory—all designed in a minimalist silver-and-black theme. The Farm’s architectural style was remarkably consistent.

Everyone took a walk around the Oxygen Laboratory before entering through the main doors. Inside, the lab was filled with various oxygen production devices. In the center stood a massive cylindrical structure, its surface dotted with neat rows of small holes from which gas was being emitted.

A researcher walked over and took a deep breath. “The air is amazing.” With acid rain pollution rampant across the globe, the Farm had the Heart of the Farm to purify air within, but outside, the atmosphere remained murky.

Liu Wensheng stepped forward and took a breath himself. “It really is.”

After inhaling for a while, Liu Wensheng turned to the Technology Group members.

They brought out air analysis equipment. The readings showed that the gas from the cylinder was chemically identical to normal air, but far purer—like the kind found in a pristine rainforest.

Research indicated that the air within the lab was self-circulating, preventing any buildup of impurities or oxygen depletion.

“Just one Oxygen Laboratory?” Everyone was curious about its full capabilities. The lab’s classification was rated as ‘Mid-Level’ by the Shuilan standard. Given how mature global oxygen production technology was, they were puzzled as to why the system would rate this as mid-tier.

By current standards, this would only qualify as a basic-level laboratory.

Despite their curiosity, Liu Wensheng turned to Sun Yiping. “The Technology Group has a new task.”

“We’ll get it done,” Sun Yiping replied with a salute.

They didn’t yet understand the lab’s full function, but clearly, it was now under the Technology Group’s purview.

At 8 PM, after leaving the Oxygen Laboratory, Qin Yun and Liu Wensheng headed to the Biological Laboratory.

“Everyone, continue with virus testing. Keep a close eye on the Hugua variant strains.”

“Make sure all safety protocols are followed. Proper isolation gear must be worn when entering or exiting sterile rooms…”

…

Inside the lab, Xiang Qingchuan was giving detailed instructions to the research team.

Qin Yun and Liu Wensheng stood nearby, listening. Ten minutes later, Xiang Qingchuan finally noticed them.

“Commander Liu, Secretary Qin.”

“Don’t mind us,” Liu Wensheng gestured for him to continue.

As of September 25, there had been thirty-five identified Hugua H1 variant strains worldwide, with a total death toll of 170,000. It was the most severe flu outbreak since the Cockroach Disease of 2152. Although Longxia had developed the Hugua Mask, it was only a temporary solution. To allow people to live freely under the sun again, the virus had to be eradicated completely.

The Hugua Virus originated from the corpses of polar organisms. After discussion, the Biology Group had decided to send Xiang Qingchuan to the biological station for on-site research and sampling.

He would depart the next day, and was now giving final instructions to the team staying behind.

At 8:20, having finished his briefing, Xiang Qingchuan turned to Qin Yun and Liu Wensheng. “There’s a lot to handle.”

“If you’re not confident, you can stay at the Farm,” Liu Wensheng said. Stationing at the biological outpost carried some risk. During internal discussions, he had been the first to oppose the idea. But Xiang Qingchuan had insisted repeatedly, and only then received approval from higher-ups.

“Contact us if anything comes up,” Xiang Qingchuan said to Liu Wensheng.

“Stay safe,” Liu Wensheng replied. Seeing that Xiang Qingchuan was determined, he didn’t press further.

The next morning, Liu Wensheng led a team to the Arctic Biological Station. Alongside the research delegation was a special member: Qin Yun.

“Make sure your masks and isolation suits are worn properly. Don’t wander off once we arrive,” Xiang Qingchuan nagged at Qin Yun on the plane. Previously, Qin Yun had unlocked [The Beginning of a Disaster] in the Arctic. To further investigate whether there were other anomalies in the region, the team had decided to bring him along again.

“I got it,” Qin Yun replied helplessly. Xiang Qingchuan was being overly meticulous.

The Arctic was the origin point of the viral outbreak. For safety, Qin Yun and the biology team had already changed into masks and isolation suits, their bodies sealed tight from head to toe.

On September 27, the plane landed at Will Airport.

“Academician Xiang…” Staff from the Weir Embassy greeted them at the airport. Since they had worked together before, the introductions were brief, and they headed straight to the Arctic Biological Station by boat.

The Arctic Biological Station was established by the Shuilan Alliance in the Arctic following the outbreak of the Hugua Virus. Though it was called a biological station, due to the melting of the polar ice caps, it was actually built on a massive ship.

At 7 p.m., they arrived at the station.

“Academician Xiang.”

“Mr. Qin?”

…

Many familiar faces from previous Arctic missions were already at the station, and the atmosphere was warm and welcoming.

Xiang Qingchuan handed over his duties to the Longxia personnel stationed there, while Qin Yun took a walk around the ship and ran into an old acquaintance—

“Qin!” A tall man greeted him with surprise and delight.

“Mr. Ron,” Qin Yun replied. Ron was a staff member from Weir. The two had once rescued a polar bear together—though, unfortunately, the bear didn’t survive. A seal, however, had made it.

“Thanks to Longxia,” Ron immediately praised the mask he was wearing.

It was a Hugua Mask purchased from Longxia. Underneath, he wore a Fengshan Constant Temperature Jacket, and over that, a protective suit. Not only Ron, but everyone at the Arctic Biological Station was wearing the Fengshan three-piece set—this was their lifeline in the Arctic environment.

“Looks great,” Qin Yun said with a smile. The masks were custom-made, each embroidered with an iceberg design, giving them a unique commemorative feel.

After chatting for a bit, Ron leaned in and said mysteriously, “I want to show you something.”

Curious, Qin Yun informed Xiang Qingchuan and followed Ron onto a kayak.

The waters around the station were filled with floating ice. The sea level had risen by one centimeter compared to before. At 8:50 p.m., they arrived at a massive iceberg. Ron tossed a tilapia onto the ice and began making strange sounds.

Qin Yun looked puzzled.

Three minutes later, a short-haired creature emerged from behind the ice. It eyed them warily at first, then waddled over to the fish and began eating.

“Is that the same seal from before?” Qin Yun asked in surprise.

“It didn’t adapt well to the Weir Aquarium, so we released it back last week,” Ron explained.

“Is there any risk of infection?” The seal looked noticeably plumper and showed no signs of fear.

“No signs of infection,” Ron said as he gently played with the seal. Though it was a mammal, there were no symptoms of illness. The station had implanted a tracking chip in the seal to monitor its condition at all times.

They stayed by the ice for two hours before returning to the station.

Over the next week, Qin Yun walked across the Arctic ice twice. But no matter where he went, the system showed no response. The plan to update the system using the Arctic environment had failed.

On October 5, Qin Yun returned to the country ahead of schedule.

“Stay safe,” Xiang Qingchuan said, giving him a hug before departure.

“You too,” Qin Yun replied.

The Arctic was the origin of the virus, and working there was fraught with danger. At that time, the station housed 1,200 staff from 32 countries. Everyone had grown accustomed to life at the station. Though Qin Yun didn’t say it out loud, he deeply admired their dedication.

On October 6, Qin Yun returned to the Farm. The moment he arrived, he received exciting news: a breakthrough in agricultural soil research!

“The sunflowers have sprouted!” In the Seed Laboratory, Song Yueshan showed Qin Yun the experiment.

It was a fully enclosed experimental field covering three mu. A glass dome enclosed the field, and inside, the tilled soil had begun to sprout tender green shoots, vibrant under the sunlight.

“This is Farm soil?” Qin Yun asked, leaning over the glass dome.

“Acid Rain Soil transported from Jinghe,” Song Yueshan replied. For the past two years, aside from research on Locust Feed and improved fodder, the Farm had been focused on soil restoration.

After repeated trials by the Farm and the plantation, the Acid Rain Soil had shown signs of germination three days earlier. The soil had been treated with an anti-acid solution that effectively neutralized the acidity in the Acid Rain Soil.

“Are there any limitations?” Qin Yun asked. Although they now had Locust Feed and improved fodder, the plants grown from Locust Feed were inedible, and Soil Improvement required reprocessing every three years.

“None,” Song Yueshan said excitedly. The improved solution was still in the testing phase, but if successful, it could permanently transform Acid Rain Soil. Of course, the solution only worked on soil damaged by Harma Storms. If the soil had undergone other changes, new research would be needed.

“Three years,” Song Yueshan said bitterly.

It had been three years since the Harma Storms began, and the research had been under immense pressure ever since.

“Everything will get better,” Qin Yun said, noticing the gray at Song Yueshan’s temples. Song Yueshan and Zhou Yuanheng were the country’s most renowned agricultural academicians. As in his previous life, Zhou Yuanheng was leading a team in the field to study Acid Rain Soil, while Song Yueshan, due to his age, remained stationed at the Farm.

The Acid Rain solution was the result of collaboration between the two teams.

“Once we restore the soil and start planting trees again, everything will become easier…” Song Yueshan was full of hope for the future.

Over the next half month, the Biology Group focused entirely on soil testing. After continuous trials, on October 20, Longxia released a news bulletin: [On October 20, the Longxia Academy of Sciences developed a pesticide to improve Acid Rain Soil. The pesticide neutralizes harmful substances and balances the pH of acidic soil…]

“Oh my god!”

“Finally, some good news!”

…

The entire nation erupted with excitement upon hearing the news.

Since the launch of the Hugua Mask on August 25, countries around the world had rapidly built mask factories. These factories relied on core technology from Longxia, with investments from tech companies like Dongshan Fengmai.

Now, the Hugua Mask had become a matter of life and death. Countries signed mask production contracts with Longxia and ramped up manufacturing efforts.

While other countries didn’t distribute masks for free, government subsidies kept prices relatively low. As of October 15, global mask coverage had reached 52%. The Hugua Mask could detect the Hugua H1 virus in its early stages. As long as the virus hadn’t reached the lungs, there was still a chance of recovery.

Between October 1 and 15, the global spread of Hugua H1 slowed. Wearing a mask when going out had become a global consensus.

While the world was still focused on masks, Longxia unveiled its latest breakthrough: Acid Rain Pesticide. Although this pesticide couldn’t eliminate viruses, it could restore vitality to the soil, ensuring that people around the globe would no longer go hungry. The emergence of Acid Rain Pesticide signaled a real possibility for the planet’s greenery to return to normal.

“Ahhh! This is amazing!”

“Global Daily: Longxia’s Acid Rain Pesticide, another miracle written by Longxia!”

It wasn’t just the people of Longxia who were celebrating. Countries around the world had their eyes on Acid Rain Pesticide.

On October 20, Acid Rain Pesticide shot to the top of global trending searches.

“Does this mean the old Improved Fertilizer is obsolete now?”

“I just opened a locust farm…”

As global excitement surged, some began to recall the locust issue.

Back in July of last year, after the global locust crisis, Longxia experienced a locust farming boom. As the world’s largest producer of Locust Farming, Longxia had led the charge. But if Acid Rain Pesticide became widespread, the value of Locust Fertilizer would plummet.

“If it’s useless, so be it. I still prefer normal soil!”

“Thinking of converting my locust farm into a feed plant. Do any animals eat Acid Rain locusts?”

Some locust-based businesses began looking for new directions. But before they could pivot, Longxia announced the main ingredient of Acid Rain Pesticide: locusts.

The pesticide had been developed based on Locust Feed. According to estimates, the demand for Acid Rain Pesticide would be three times that of Locust Feed.

The nation would need 3 billion tons of locusts, and the global demand would be countless. As the world’s largest Locust Farming country, Longxia possessed the most advanced farming techniques. With current demand levels, Locust Farming would remain a booming industry for at least the next five years.

“Oh my god!”

“We’re raising them after all!”

Just like that, the mood among locust enterprises flipped from gloom to elation.

Now, at the end of October, some netizens began summarizing the year 3030. From the Sandstorm Crisis to Acid Rain Sickness, from Hugua H1 to now… 3030 had been harder than any year before. But from the Dual-Machine Series to Acid Rain Pesticide, it had also been a year of relentless progress.

Since the Food Crisis of 3028, everything had been difficult—but maybe not impossibly so.

“It sprouted leaves.”

“It’s bearing fruit.”

On October 31, as the entire nation buzzed about Acid Rain Pesticide, inside Fengshan Farm, Qin Yun and Liu Wensheng stood quietly, watching the Hope Tree.

The tree had grown from seven meters to fifteen. Its branches were lush with leaves, and hanging from them was a single, bright red fruit…