The First Circle

I could feel the mana beginning to gather, rippling like water.

It had the fragile quality of something about to scatter back into the air at any moment.

While holding it all together, I strained to grow the small clump of energy I'd condensed—rolling it bigger the way you'd roll a snowball.

It ‍‍‌‌⁠​​⁠‌​​‍​​‍​‌​⁠‍‌‍⁠⁠‌⁠‌‍‌‍‌‌‌‍⁠​‌​‌​‌‍‌‌‌⁠‍​​‌‍⁠‌‌⁠⁠grew, and grew, swelling until it filled my entire heart with aching pressure, and only then would I swiftly fix it into a form with a specific movement.

In other words, shaping it into a 'Circle' with a regular, rhythmic flow.

"Nngh—"

As expected, it was anything but easy.

Like a stomachache from overeating, my mana circuits burned hot, as if aflame.

But I couldn't stop yet.

I kept my breathing steady until even more energy condensed into that mass.

The advantage of a body with strong mana sensitivity was doing a lot of heavy lifting here.

I was holding up just fine even under this excessive concentration of mana.

And then…

'Now!'

Whoosh—a cool, refreshing breeze washed over me, as if I'd just stepped out of stuffy air into open morning.

The moment a stable ring of mana settled into place around my heart, my heartbeat returned to normal.

Everything was sharper, clearer, more vivid. I could hear the wind striking the trees, and even track the movement of a single falling leaf.

"Ha… hahaha. I did it…"

I was utterly spent.

My whole body was drenched in sweat, my clothes soaked through and clinging to my skin.

But this was the 1st Circle.

At long last, I had formed a Circle.

I was standing once more at the true starting point of a proper mage.

Breathing came easy now.

It was nothing like moments ago, when even maintaining the hundred-pyeong farm had been a struggle.

I could genuinely feel myself growing stronger.

If it was now, I could create even more Mana Land.

Riding that surge of anticipation, my eyes fell on the empty field.

"Ah… right."

First things first—I'd better sort out that bare patch of soil.

With a Circle now formed, my command over mana had grown freer.

Which meant the engraving grade of my Mana Land could be upgraded too.

"It'll be convenient to get this done while things are quiet."

As it happened, nobody was around.

I inspected the condition of the stakes and began revising the engravings carved within them.

The new pattern would be laid over the original engraving—a method of layering on top of what was already there.

It was delicate work; I had to etch a new design without disturbing the existing one at all.

First, I traced the outermost circle, carving a chain pattern of linked joints along it.

The moment I began, the branch stakes driven into the earth burst with bright light, just like last time.

Anyone catching sight of it would have sworn they were looking at a sunset.

Next, centered on the root motif, I carved a border of hexagonal lattice ringing it.

I had to check carefully that the honeycomb shape had been etched cleanly.

"Ugh…"

Heat was steadily rising through my whole body.

A sultry warmth built inside my clothes. My face burned too, and sure enough, sweat came pouring down from my forehead.

Lately, thanks to exercising, my stamina had improved enough that I hadn't sweated like this in ages.

This work really did drain a surprising amount of energy.

How on earth had I once spent entire days doing this without so much as a proper meal?

I wiped the sweat away roughly and refocused on the work.

There was still a bit of engraving left to do.

I inscribed an inscribed circle inside each of the two triangles.

Then, a droplet pattern in the left circle, a leaf pattern in the right—and the expansion was complete.

The moment the final stroke was finished, the light died down.

The surroundings, where the sun hadn't yet fully risen, faded back into a dim half-light.

That meant the engraving was truly done.

Once again, a system window appeared.

"Yes!!"

The results had exceeded my expectations.

And so, a week after revising the field's mana engravings and planting the sweet potato sprouts—

The sweet potatoes had fully grown.

"They seem to have grown way faster than the last batch, don't they?"

Grandpa marveled as he helped me harvest the sweet potatoes.

The tubers came up looking a touch sturdier than before, two or three hanging off each vine.

Most were Intermediate grade, but a few Intermediate-High sweet potatoes were visible among them.

All things considered, reaching the 1st Circle had brought plenty of good things.

I was tidying up the sweet potatoes with a proud grin when it happened.

An engine rumbled nearby.

Vroom, click—someone shut off the ignition and stepped out of a car.

"Ji-on! And Master Byung-gyu is here too. Good afternoon!"

It was Branch Head Park Byung-gyu.

"How can I ever repay you for going out of your way like this?"

Mom said, looking sheepish.

We were riding in a car driven by Branch Head Park Byung-gyu.

He answered with a warm, good-natured smile. "Not at all. It was just good timing, is all."

Park Byung-gyu had come out that morning to inspect the fields in person, and when he heard about the ceremony, he'd insisted on driving us to the Nonghyup office where the scholarship presentation was being held.

It was a five-seater, so there was plenty of room.

The only problem was that the car's all-black interior was practically glowing with the one occupant dressed up like a spotlight…

"…Mom, did you really need to dress up quite that much?"

Mom was wearing a pale pink suit set with a crisp white blouse, pressed to perfection.

She'd torn the whole room apart last night hunting for that outfit in the closet.

For some reason, she seemed far more thrilled about receiving a scholarship than she had been about taking my money.

And she wasn't the only one dressed to the nines.

Grandpa, who'd been out digging sweet potatoes with me, was somehow in a suit I had no memory of him ever owning.

Granted, I'd changed into clean clothes too—but not to that degree.

The two of them had spent half the night putting their heads together over what to wear, and apparently this was the result.

…They both looked so giddy that I decided to just let it go.

"We're here."

Once out of the car, we took in our surroundings.

A sign for the scholarship ceremony was posted at the building entrance.

Following it, we arrived at a small auditorium on the second floor.

A banner hung on the wall behind a modest podium, rows of chairs lined up facing it—by all formal accounts, there was nothing to fault about the ceremony.

"We will now begin the Songgye Nonghyup Scholarship Ceremony."

The proceedings were kept simple.

A few words of reflection. The presentation. Photos.

Done.

It looked like quite a few students were receiving scholarships.

Click—click—every time someone took the stage, the sound of a camera echoed loudly through the hall.

It was the same when I went up.

Once the ceremony had completely wrapped up, the exit grew crowded with people filing out of the auditorium.

"Ji-on, will you be heading straight home?"

Branch Head Park Byung-gyu asked.

I hadn't finished everything I needed to do at the field, so I nodded. "I still have to sort the sweet potatoes."

"Then let's go together. I was hoping to take another look at the fields anyway."

Back at the field, half the harvest lay dug up, with plenty of sweet potatoes still waiting in the ground.

Before getting back to work, I boiled some sweet potatoes and shared them with Branch Head Park Byung-gyu.

'My shoulders and back, which have been aching for months, feel so much lighter!'

Park Byung-gyu marveled, then asked, "The effects really are remarkable…! Since the last auction, haven't the villagers been asking for more?"

At his question, a recent memory flashed through my mind.

Sure enough, that whole thing had caused quite an uproar.

The villagers wanted sweet potatoes, and I couldn't exactly keep selling them through auctions alone.

People's cash reserves had limits, after all, and if I kept running auctions, the winning bids were bound to drop.

"So I've decided to just sell them all at a flat rate—the average price from the last sweet potato auction."

"The average being…?"

"120,000 won."

Aside from the ones I'd given the village chief, I'd sold ten for 1.2 million won, so 120,000 apiece was the easy way to settle it.

Anyone who wanted a sweet potato could simply pay 120,000 won and eat one.

…And the orders came flooding in.

The villagers placed two or three orders each in a steady stream, and I ended up selling all forty sweet potatoes harvested over the past two weeks—then had to dip into the ones coming up right now to keep up.

"Even the batch I'm working on now is already sold out."

"Haha, that's quite a price. The elders must have steeled themselves for it."

Park Byung-gyu said this as he rolled his shoulders experimentally.

'And I'm no different, honestly. If I could, I'd buy several more myself.'

When you could feel aching spots vanishing and your body growing healthier in real time, how could anyone give that up?

And according to the farmer who grew these sweet potatoes—me—eating two made you twice as healthy again.

Three made it triple. Four, quadruple.

And that sweet potato was only 120,000 won?

That was a bargain, no matter how ‍‍‌‌⁠​​⁠‌​​‍​​‍​‌​⁠‍‌‍⁠⁠‌⁠‌‍‌‍‌‌‌‍⁠​‌​‌​‌‍‌‌‌⁠‍​​‌‍⁠‌‌⁠⁠you looked at it.

Then, as if a thought had just struck him, Park Byung-gyu asked, "You want to sell these sweet potatoes officially, don't you? Am I right?"

"That's right. I want to set up a channel where I can sell sweet potatoes regularly, no matter where."

"Then how about the Nonghyup?"

"…!"

I paused mid-dig and looked up at him.

Branch Head Park Byung-gyu pressed on with confidence.

"The Sweet Potato Shipment Commitment Right. I'll give it to you."

"A commitment right—you mean the Nonghyup guarantees to purchase a fixed quantity on a regular schedule, no matter what?"

"That's exactly it. Though I'd like to structure the contract as a revenue-sharing arrangement rather than a fixed purchase price."

That would delay income until the first revenue actually came in—but if the sweet potatoes sold well, the earnings would be several times larger.

The man making that bold pitch, Branch Head Park Byung-gyu, was sweating buckets behind that confident smile.

For him, this was a gamble in its own way.

It wasn't a thoughtless offer.

He'd wanted to sell those sweet potatoes through the Nonghyup ever since the day he watched the auction.

Now that he'd actually tasted one, he wanted the distribution rights more than ever.

It was a decision made purely on the commercial value of the sweet potatoes themselves.

If the Nonghyup became the first to sell a sweet potato with special effects, imagine how many benefits would come flooding back.

Of course, he'd have to shoulder the risk too.

A crop with special effects unlike anything anyone had ever seen.

What if someone ate it and had a bad reaction? What if something went wrong?

Who would answer for that responsibility?

It would all fall on him—the one who'd taken the first step.

But the rewards waiting on the other side dwarfed any such risk.

And it wasn't just about those Muscle Strengthening Sweet Potatoes, either.

That boy standing before him, radiating staggering potential.

I want to see just how far that boy will go…!

For Park Byung-gyu, this was one of the rare, all-in gambles of his life.

Having settled his thoughts, he clenched his fist.

Sail the ship into uncharted waters—or stay safely ashore?

Now, everything rested on that boy's choice.

Park Byung-gyu extended his hand toward the boy crouched in the field, hoe still in his grip.

"Ji-on. What will you do?"