31: Chapter 31: Japan's Sewage Discharges Pollutants into the Sea, the Entire Internet Weeps

"God Lin! Save us! Please save the fishermen of the East China Sea!"

It was a crimson torrent formed by countless bullet comments of the same content.

Attached below the message was a video link.

Lin Mo clicked on the link, and a heartbreaking scene appeared on his phone screen.

The video was filmed on a surging, azure blue ocean.

An elderly fisherman with dark skin and a face etched with the marks of weathering was kneeling on the deck of his fishing boat, wailing into the camera.

Behind him was a net of fish just hauled up from the sea.

But those fish, without exception, had all become deformed and festering; some even had disgusting, eerie tumors growing on their bodies.

"It's gone... everything is gone..."

The old fisherman's voice was hoarse and filled with despair.

"I've fished my whole life and relied on this sea to support my entire family."

"But now, this sea... has been destroyed by them!"

He pointed with a trembling hand toward the distant skyline, where the seawater took on an ominous, grayish-black hue.

"Those animals from Japan! They dumped all the dirty water from their nuclear power plant into our ocean!"

"Our fish are all dead! They caught some strange disease!"

"How are those of us who make a living from the sea supposed to survive now!"

The old man cried heart-wrenchingly, slamming his forehead against the fishy-smelling deck, over and over again.

"God Lin! You are a deity! You can make food grow in the desert; you must be able to save our sea too!"

"I kowtow to you! I beg you!"

"Bang! Bang! Bang!"

The dull thud of the kowtowing, accompanied by the old man's desperate wailing, struck like heavy hammers against the hearts of every Chinese person watching the video!

At the end of the video, the camera slowly pulled back.

On that vast expanse of ocean, hundreds upon hundreds of fishing boats had spontaneously gathered together.

All the fishermen, just like that old man, were kneeling on their decks, facing the direction of the land, silently kowtowing.

Behind them, bright red Chinese flags snapped and fluttered in the sea breeze!

That silent scene erupted with a grief and plea more deafening than any sound!

The video ended abruptly there.

The comment section of Lin Mo's live stream had completely exploded!

[Animals! Those goddamn animals from Japan! They are trying to cut off our roots!]

[I'm crying! Just how desperate must a seventy-something-year-old man be to kneel and kowtow for help!]

[God Lin! Take action! I beg you! We cannot just watch our compatriots be bullied to this extent by these scumbags!]

[Right! Those who offend China shall be punished, no matter how far away they are! God Lin, show them what you've got!]

The anger of the entire internet gathered into a monstrous torrent, surging toward Lin Mo's live stream.

This was no longer just an environmental pollution incident.

This was a naked provocation and injury against the entire Chinese nation!

Inside the Hardware Store, there was a deathly silence.

Zhao Zhenhua watched the video on his phone, his fists clenched tight, his knuckles white from the excessive force, his eyes shooting out monstrous fury.

"They have gone too far!"

He gritted his teeth and squeezed out four words from between them.

"Mr. Lin, I will apply to the higher-ups right now to dispatch a fleet and blockade their sewage discharge outlet!"

However, Lin Mo slowly shook his head.

He turned off his phone, and the signature lazy and playful look on his face had vanished without a trace.

In its place was a heart-palpitating calm.

It was the deathly calm before a storm.

"Old Zhao."

Lin Mo spoke, his voice very soft, yet carrying an unquestionable chill.

"Dispatching a fleet won't solve the root problem."

"If they dare to discharge today, they will dare to do it again tomorrow."

"To deal with scoundrels who won't shed tears until they see their own coffin, you have to use the most direct and painful method to completely break their hands!"

A terrifying, cold glint flashed in Lin Mo's eyes.

"Since they don't want us to have a good life."

"Then... they won't have one either."

He turned his head to look at Zhao Zhenhua and said, enunciating every word.

"Contact that old fisherman."

"Tell him to come to my store."

"Just say that I have... what he needs."