As for whether other countries had taken any action, Li Dong had no idea. But he could certainly sense some movements within Great Xia.
Compared to individuals and corporations, the resources and manpower a nation could mobilize were simply immense—utterly incomparable.
If Great Xia was making moves, then surely the Far Star Union, Polar Bear Federation, and Europa Federation would be doing the same.
It's just that, like Great Xia, they were likely keeping things well hidden.
The waters ran deep here.
Of course, it couldn't be ruled out that some foreign nations didn't value ordinary citizens' lives and had no intention of informing them.
But there was another possibility.
Even if the public were informed, it wouldn't change the facts.
It might even trigger panic among the masses, exacerbating internal strife and leading to incidents of looting, murder, and other crimes.
In that case, it might be better to suppress the information, seal it tighter, and delay any leaks.
To buy more time.
As for foreign ruling classes, financial backers, aristocrats, corporate elites, and tycoons—they certainly wouldn't lack underground doomsday shelters.
Even if nuclear war or a post-apocalyptic wasteland became reality, they could simply retreat into their underground shelters and live comfortably as ever.
Every year, ordinary citizens could see reports on international media platforms about some billionaire spending billions to build a doomsday shelter.
Or domestic super-tycoons investing billions to turn their villas into Doomsday Fortresses.
Such reports were far from rare.
They were just the usual sensational entertainment topics.
This series of entertainment coverage had also reinforced many people's stereotype of wealthy individuals as cowardly and self-preserving—fitting neatly with the public's perception of businessmen.
In reality, they were simply preparing for a rainy day. Once disaster struck, it would be too late to act.
The circles and social strata these tycoons moved in often received information much faster than the general public, sometimes even obtaining small, unreported tidbits in advance.
Moreover, most tycoons' enterprises and conglomerates had cooperative ties with local official organizations.
Their channels for information were far more extensive than those of ordinary citizens.
After processing a massive pile of documents, Li Dong lay back on the sofa as a flood of information swirled in his mind. He took half a minute to recover before sitting up again.
Then he picked up his phone and laptop to contact key figures, inquiring about project progress and various issues while delegating numerous tasks.
As for stocks, Li Dong left that to his younger brother, Li Tiang.
Of course, Tiang wouldn't handle it personally either. Professional matters were best entrusted to a professional gold-medal trading team, leveraging future information gaps to maximize profits.
Naturally, Tiang knew better than to chase the last coin.
Over the past month, the Li family's capital had grown from less than a billion to several times that, reaping tens of billions from the stock market.
But compared to the funds needed to build a large-scale Shelter...
It was still far from enough. There remained a shortfall of at least several dozen billion.
And over this past month, disasters had been occurring with increasing frequency.
First came extreme heat and drought, followed by typhoons, torrential rains, floods, earthquakes, tsunamis, volcanic eruptions, and even outbreaks resembling the Zombie virus.
Wave after wave of crises struck.
Fortunately, after entering the industrial civilization era, humanity's productivity had greatly improved. Now, in the information age, any disaster could be reported immediately, allowing rescue efforts to be deployed swiftly.
Had this occurred in feudal ancient times, it would have long triggered massive famines and other catastrophes.
By late September, several wildfires had broken out in the southwestern region of Daxia. Some remained uncontained, primarily due to the extreme heat and drought.
Local authorities had strictly prohibited anyone from entering the mountains and banned open-flame cooking to prevent accidental ignition.
The forests were now tinderboxes—dry branches and deadwood had piled up everywhere.
Wildfires weren't limited to Daxia's vast southwestern region. Other areas affected by the heatwave and drought also reported outbreaks.
In the Southern Hemisphere, the continent of South Australia was similarly ravaged by wildfires in September. The terrifying blazes burned relentlessly for a month, showing no signs of stopping.
Firefighting organizations and countless firefighters across South Australia were powerless against the inferno. Extinguishing it was impossible.
All they could do was watch as the flames spread uncontrollably, devouring everything in their path.
As a result, governments had no choice but to evacuate residents near the fire zones.
Sometimes, misfortunes came in clusters.
Across the ocean in the Far Star Union, located on the North American continent, a catastrophic forest fire erupted in California, turning the landscape into a hellish wasteland.
Footage of these wildfires spread rapidly online, sparking heated discussions among netizens worldwide.
Some questioned what was happening—why were such devastating fires occurring so frequently?
Others claimed it was the work of an organized arson group, insisting the fires were deliberately set.
Yet, they couldn't explain the motive behind such acts.
The relentless series of wildfires inevitably fueled dark suspicions among the public.
Who could say for certain that none of these fires were man-made?
After all, the destruction was too horrifying.
Against such overwhelming blazes, human efforts seemed futile.
In the Far Star Union, conspiracy theories ran rampant. Some alleged that the government itself had orchestrated the fires to seize land and property at low prices.
Shockingly, many believed these theories, given the Union's history of unethical actions.
In the last century, the Far Star Union had conducted bacterial experiments on its own citizens, even releasing a pathogen in a major city under the guise of a "simulated biohazard attack."
Only after international media exposure did they halt such experiments—though clandestine research into the Biohazard Virus never ceased.
Returning to Daxia, live broadcasts showed fleets of firefighting helicopters racing toward the burning mountains.
But the amount of water carried by those firefighting aircraft was insufficient to extinguish the terrifying mountain fires that stretched across the ranges.
It was like trying to put out a cartload of burning firewood with a cup of water—only able to slow the spread of the flames.
Local residents joined the firefighting personnel in battling the blaze, with ordinary citizens riding motorcycles to transport firefighters up the mountain for disaster relief.
They continuously delivered water, ice, food, and other supplies to the mountain.
When it came to unity, the Great Xia Nation was beyond reproach—truly embodying the spirit of "when one place is in trouble, aid comes from all sides."
After glancing at the live broadcast of the firefighting efforts, Li Dong took a short rest before starting his workout. If the apocalypse truly arrived, having a strong physique would undoubtedly increase his chances of survival compared to others.
After exercising for about three hours in the Dragon Whale Mountain Villa's gym, Li Dong ordered a housekeeping service through an app. Someone would soon arrive to prepare dinner for him.
Fresh ingredients would also be delivered directly to his doorstep—even during a Category 17 typhoon. Such was the privilege of living in a high-end villa district.
Li Dong opened the apocalypse chat group and began browsing the messages.
"Damn, the mountain fire is almost at my doorstep (pics)(pics)," someone complained in the group.
"Which area in the southwest are you in? Judging by your photos, the fire seems really close to your home."
"I'm in XXX Town, XXX District. Won't specify the village name. Talk about bad luck. Hope the firefighters can handle this blaze—gotta go now. I'm joining the firefighting efforts too, or my house will burn down."
"Good luck and stay safe."
"Good luck and stay safe." x99
Then came a series of identical messages from group members—proof that human nature truly is just a repeater.