Chapter 409

Chapter 409: Saving the World is Actually an Extremely Dull Task

“Burp—!”

Trilobite let out a big burp.

The System rated this meal as—“Stuffed!”

He thought, “Gee, how could I not be stuffed?”

“First, I nibbled on two Micro-Orifice Salamanders that weighed about as much as I do, then I devoured four Birgeria fish of a similar weight.”

“Wow, I ate nearly six times my own weight in prey…”

“Hmm, even if I skip the bones and other waste, that’s still at least four times my weight in meat!”

“If that doesn’t make me stuffed…”

“Then I’d be doomed to go hungry.”

“As for the Chaos Energy income…”

“Hmm…”

The Chaos Energy income was hard to sum up.

It was plenty, but not completely so.

The evolutionary upgrade payment from the ancestor round conical ichthyosaur was huge—a full three hundred fifty thousand, which was more than Trilobite ever got from any single prey!

Trilobite was so happy he almost wanted to hug it and kiss it.

But the Chaos Energy from the Birgeria fish was disappointing.

One gave one hundred thousand, so four together brought in four hundred thousand.

That was just the lowest he expected.

It looked “bright red” in the system vision!

“Did I take that ‘beast senpai concentrate’ for nothing!?”

“I feel like I lost out!”

“But… never mind…”

Now, Trilobite’s Chaos Energy had jumped from less than two hundred thousand to one million three hundred thousand. The phrase “full to the brim” fit perfectly.

Nearly a million Chaos Energy came from this hunt and upgrading the Hubei Crocodile to the ancestor round conical ichthyosaur, and about a hundred thousand more appeared out of nowhere.

“No, the System wasn’t being nice—my spawn are working hard!”

“This growth rate is pretty good.”

Trilobite felt he could copy the top players in capital markets—the financial capitalists—by spreading his capital around and waiting for the “zeros after the one” to pile up.

“Ah…”

“No, I must stick to my roots; I can’t turn into a vampire.”

Right now, it was a “natural environment,” or at least a world very close to it. Maybe the so-called “Chaos Energy” was like money, but Trilobite couldn’t use it for fancy things.

Moreover…

"I’ve got serious business to attend to!"

"The work of a reserve conservation officer!"

"Hmm… this job isn’t as straightforward as it seems."

Trilobite stared at the traces of seawater, his brow furrowed with concern.

During his last patrol, the tide line hadn’t advanced nearly this far. If this continued, the mudflats—the buffer between the swamp and the sea—would vanish entirely within years or decades.

Perhaps in a century, the entire swamp would be devoured by the tides!

"A hundred years seems distant, but geologically speaking, it’s merely a blink."

"I must prepare for the worst."

"Though doing so feels like defying the heavens."

"But…"

"When the sky cracks, mend it yourself; when floods rage, tame them yourself—it beats waiting to die or fleeing on a boat with a handful of survivors."

"Struggling against fate holds its own thrill."

With this resolve, Trilobite began drafting plans.

"To halt the rising tides, the best approach is…"

"Finding why the sea expands."

"Must determine if it’s macro-environmental trends or micro-environmental factors."

"If it’s macro-environmental…"

"Then forget it—incurable, hopeless, farewell!"

The so-called "macro-environment" meant global climate shifts, like the Marine Invasions and sea retreats during the Devonian or Ordovician extinctions…

Trilobite knew such forces were unstoppable.

"If Gaia updates her systems, what power do I, Trilobite, possess?"

"Even humanity united might prove powerless."

In his technologically advanced homeworld, he recalled how localized disasters demanded nations with supreme mobilization capability to manage them.

A global catastrophe—

Like the Permian’s dark rock doomsday or the Cretaceous asteroid impact—would doom humanity to fend for itself.

"At most, I’ll make a final effort; fulfill my duty by finding them new refuge."

"But if it’s microclimate…"

Regional, temporary factors flooding swamp habitats seemed manageable.

Perhaps an earthquake collapsed a mountain, blocking a narrow strait. Or unusually flat seabeds let waves advance unchecked…

For such scenarios, Trilobite could build coastal barriers to endure high tides, or place seabed obstacles to dissipate wave energy…

Simply put—

"If microclimate’s the cause, solutions outnumber difficulties!"

Energized, Trilobite rolled up his sleeves.

"Hmm…"

"Microclimate-driven flooding seems more probable."

"Doubt I’m unlucky enough to hit a Mass Extinction event."

"Besides, even for ‘macro’ threats, applying ‘micro’ solutions might buy time—if not cure the root cause."

"Time enough to relocate my precious spawn!"

"That’s what a dedicated laborer would do!"

Though already resorting to inhuman tricks like "consumer loans," he still shamelessly called himself a laborer.

"So where to begin?"

Trilobite walked the shoreline until he spotted his planted "seed ferns occupying the red mangrove Ecological Niche."

"Hmm… ‘seed ferns occupying the red mangrove Ecological Niche’ is a mouthful."

"Just name them…"

"Red tree ferns."

As he renamed the plants, Trilobite noticed—

"Huh!?"

"This fern’s grown massive, thickened roots."

"Gripping the muddy sand like iron clamps."

His gaze swept the sandbank—now bound by red tree fern roots into a single landmass. As trunks rose, tuberous roots lifted too, forming a terrace towering above sea level!

Waves crashed against this root-and-sand fortress, shattering upon impact. At low tide, the sandbank became a sea-jutting plateau;

at high tide, an isolated island.

"Eureka!"

Trilobite’s eyes sparkled.

"Now I’ve got a crude solution!"