I Claim Jakgol-ri

Leaving behind a huffing, pouting Choi Seo-dan, I headed home with the documents in hand.

"Clean as a whistle."

No poison-pill clauses, a favorable settlement ratio, and even terms that worked in my favor for new product development — all confirmed and done.

The conditions were on par with the contract I'd originally signed for the carrots.

I could stamp my seal on it as-is without any adjustments.

"A two-year contract term is just right, too."

After that, we'd renegotiate the terms and draw up a fresh agreement.

"I half expected them to push for a long-term deal while my farm is still unknown."

Locking in the same terms for a long stretch would clearly benefit Taelam. After all, the more famous my farm became, the more companies would come knocking with better offers across the board.

Which meant that when the renewal season rolled around, they'd be forced to offer me even more favorable terms.

Not messing around with the contract length was probably their way of acknowledging my growth.

And of course, having been shown that consideration, I had no intention of betraying Taelam lightly.

I stamped the contract and sealed the documents.

I planned to deliver them to Grandpa Choi's house the next day in person.

"Hmm hmm~♪"

"Ji-on, why are you in such a ridiculously good mood?"

I was humming to myself while organizing the paperwork when Bong-gu struck up a conversation.

He was right. I was in a fantastic mood.

And there was another reason for it, too.

A month and a half after our house collapsed, construction on our brand-new home was finally complete.

The projected build time had been six months, but we'd paid extra to have it finished fast.

Money really does make the impossible possible in this world.

It had been completed yesterday, so after dinner tonight the whole family planned to go see it together.

And the finished house was, well... far better than I'd expected.

"Wow — they really built this beautifully."

My mother marveled.

I nodded along, wholeheartedly agreeing with her assessment.

The furniture hadn't been properly moved in yet, but with the wallpaper and flooring all finished, the place was absolutely spotless.

A brand-new house you could move into at any moment.

Our family decided to move in this weekend, timed to when the ordered furniture would arrive.

For starters, it was far more spacious than our old house.

Five rooms — five!

Apparently they'd secured a new permit to build on land that had previously just been an empty lot where we used to play, which meant ‍‍‌‌⁠​​⁠‌​​‍​​‍​‌​⁠‍‌‍⁠⁠‌⁠‌‍‌‍‌‌‌‍⁠​‌​‌​‌‍‌‌‌⁠‍​​‌‍⁠‌‌⁠⁠they could put up a bigger house on the same ground.

They'd bought up some of the surrounding property as well, of course.

One of the five rooms was designated as a workroom for business use.

Specifically, a room for handling the farm's paperwork.

Until I graduated, my mother and father would be the ones using it.

Of the remaining three, one became Grandpa's room, one my parents' room, and the last would be my room and a guest room.

"Dad, what are those two buildings out there?"

"Ah, they're both storage sheds. One's an ordinary outdoor shed, and the other's an outdoor cold-storage unit."

Two sturdy-looking metal sheds of a decent size.

One was for storing farming equipment; the other was a refrigerated shed for keeping harvested produce until it could be packed.

"Nice. That should be more than enough storage for the crops."

Truth be told, with the crops' time to full maturity getting shorter and shorter, I'd been struggling to store everything between weekly deliveries.

And now here was a proper storage shed, courtesy of circumstance.

From now on, I could harvest and pack at a leisurely pace.

As I looked around the house, though, a few unfamiliar things caught my eye.

"...Um, Dad? These weren't in the blueprints, were they?"

Options I'd never been told about before construction had somehow been added on, leaving me baffled.

At my question, my father laughed awkwardly.

"Haha... Apparently Chairman Choi made a special request to have all this added. I only found out after the construction was already underway."

Set into the front door was a small pet-sized entryway that hadn't been part of the original plans.

It looked like a dedicated entrance for Bong-gu, whom I'd taken over to Grandpa Choi's place a few times.

Along the side of the yard spread a garden plot of roughly seventy square meters.

We hadn't originally intended to put in a garden, but honestly, when someone builds one that pretty for you, what choice do you have but to use it?

And finally, extending off the back of the house was an added balcony — a spacious veranda topped with a smooth wooden deck.

"The chairman covered all the additional construction costs, too."

"...Goodness."

An unexpected gift, dropped right in my lap.

The very next day, the moment I arrived at Grandpa Choi's house, I offered my thanks.

"I don't know how I could ever repay you."

"You and your 'repaying.' I didn't do it so you'd owe me. Just think of it as an early housewarming gift."

"What kind of housewarming gift arrives before the house is even built?"

"Hahaha! That way you'll remember every gift I ever gave you until the day the house falls down!"

What a grand justification.

I chuckled and pulled out the contract, holding it out to him.

"You finished reviewing it already?"

"It wasn't all that different from the carrot deal."

We'd already hammered out all the essential terms when we drew up the carrot contract, so this review went quickly.

"Ah — I nearly forgot something again."

Grandpa Choi sprang up from his seat.

Then he returned from the kitchen carrying a box.

"What's this?"

"The juice Taelam just developed from your carrots — formulated to maximize the eyesight improvement per concentration."

"Oh..."

It was packaged in a plain white pouch, so I couldn't really see what was inside.

Grandpa handed me a single sheet of paper.

A nutrition label.

"Look at this. Even at only fifteen percent carrot content, the effect is remarkable. I tried it myself and it knocked my socks off."

"Really?"

"Have one yourself, then!"

Following Grandpa Choi's suggestion, I took a sip.

Gulp — gulp —

The juice slid down my throat.

A bright, citrusy carrot aroma first, then a clean finish with no bitter aftertaste.

My eyes felt distinctly clearer — the effect was unmistakable.

Then, a system window popped up.

So processing crops grown on Mana Land meant their special effects became temporary.

Which meant that anyone who wanted the effect would have to keep coming back for the processed product, again and again.

In other words, processed foods made from special crops would become an incredibly reliable cash cow — a product whose sales would never sag!

"Ahh — this stuff's sweet, too."

At my reaction, Grandpa Choi beamed and went on.

"Right? It won't qualify as a health supplement just yet, but it looks like we can launch it as an ordinary beverage right away."

"What's the difference?"

"The price is night and day. The ordinary beverage would sell cheaper, but it'd still do well."

I understood what Grandpa Choi meant.

Once word of the effect began to spread by mouth, its market share would climb fast.

The key point right now was getting it to market quickly.

"When does sales start?"

"Development's finished, so it should hit shelves within two or three months. Payment will start the month after launch."

"That's pretty fast."

"Ha! Insanely fast, you mean! Try getting another company to do this — it probably would've taken them another half year at least."

Well, fair enough. Making something and bringing it to market is never that quick or easy.

I rose from my seat.

"I don't think I'll be able to come by here for a while."

"Of course. School, business, and a move on top of it all — you've got plenty to keep you busy, son."

"Yes. And there's one more thing I need to take care of, actually."

"One more thing?"

I'd been racking my brain over how to grow the business even sturdier.

And I'd found my answer.

"Explosive growth. That's what."

"Explosive growth, eh... Kuhahaha, yes! Go for it! That's what makes a businessman!"

Your laughing that hard is making me a little embarrassed.

"Ah — I've got some quick business in the backyard. I'll be right back."

"Going to say hello to the carrots?"

"Sure. Let's call it that."

With that, I slipped out to the backyard.

For the sake of the farm's growth going forward, I intended to clear away every little loose end.

Which is to say — I was going to dissolve the inscription on Mana Plot 2 here.

The easiest way to dissolve a Mana Land was to deal with the medium.

The technique worked by establishing a domain anchored to a coordinate point and inscribing mana onto that area.

Remove the anchor coordinate — the medium — and the domain deactivated, letting the inscribed mana naturally disperse.

I set out to find the river stone I'd used as the medium in the backyard.

Since I'd deliberately ringed the entire field with stones to hide it, an ordinary person would have had a hard time finding the true medium.

Not me, though.

The flow ‍‍‌‌⁠​​⁠‌​​‍​​‍​‌​⁠‍‌‍⁠⁠‌⁠‌‍‌‍‌‌‌‍⁠​‌​‌​‌‍‌‌‌⁠‍​​‌‍⁠‌‌⁠⁠of mana came into view.

All I had to do was check the perimeter where the mana had pooled unusually thick and deep.

"Found it."

I picked up a single stone at the very edge of the ring.

The instant I did, the domain collapsed in a blink, and the mana that had been lingering within the space rapidly dispersed into the empty ‍‍‌‌⁠​​⁠‌​​‍​​‍​‌​⁠‍‌‍⁠⁠‌⁠‌‍‌‍‌‌‌‍⁠​‌​‌​‌‍‌‌‌⁠‍​​‌‍⁠‌‌⁠⁠air.

Thankfully, the effects of the carrots already planted in the soil seemed to remain.

Though halved, of course.

I absorbed the mana remaining in the stone and set it back down on the ground.

Then I went back inside and said my goodbyes.

"Do come visit when you find the time."

"I will."

"So now I'll have to buy my carrots like everyone else, eh?"

I'd already taken all the carrot seeds I'd been growing in the backyard garden.

The seeds were nothing special — it was the field that was special, which was why special crops grew ‍‍‌‌⁠​​⁠‌​​‍​​‍​‌​⁠‍‌‍⁠⁠‌⁠‌‍‌‍‌‌‌‍⁠​‌​‌​‌‍‌‌‌⁠‍​​‌‍⁠‌‌⁠⁠there — but to anyone who didn't know that little secret, the seeds must have looked like the miracle.

I answered with a small smile.

"Carrots or sweet potatoes, whenever you want them, just say the word and I'll bring them over. You can plant some pretty flowers in your garden now and take up a bit of gardening instead."

"Haha, yes. That sounds like a fine idea."

With a final bow of my head, I left Grandpa Choi's house behind.

There'd truly be no reason to drop by for a while now.

Instead, I turned my gaze forward and looked out over the village.

Vast farmland stretched out before my eyes.

If my club activities had taught me anything, it was that raising kids up into capable talent would take a long time, no matter how I went about it.

I needed another way to find skilled, professional hands.

And right in front of me now, the grandmothers and grandfathers of Jakgol-ri were tending their own fields — the fittest, most capable workforce imaginable.

Better still, they'd each gotten a small taste of the sweet potatoes through the early auction during the sweet potato cultivation, which made luring them in that much easier.

My appetite stirred all on its own.

Income from the agricultural co-op, the contract deposit from the carrot deal, and now the sweet potato revenue from the Chongmyeonghoe on top of it all.

My bank account was fatter than it had ever been, and it was only going to get fatter.

So what was I supposed to do now?

The answer was already decided.

Grin—

"Jakgol-ri is mine for the taking."