Charles must've noticed the noise from our group, because he appeared at the top of the stairs. His eyes briefly scanned me, Raymond, and Doyle before he masked his surprise and smiled.
"Ah, welcome. Please, let's head to my office."
He led the way upstairs. Gareth, Doyle, Robin, and Isolde waited in the hall while Raymond and I went inside.
"Before you say a word, Charles, I need you to listen carefully."
I relayed everything Mnex had told me, leaving nothing out. Charles listened quietly at first, then pulled out a pen and some parchment to start taking notes.
I introduced him to our overhaul plans for the workshop and the Phoenix brand we'd already prepared. We'd be renovating the building entirely and dividing it into three sections. But first, I told him to get rid of all existing materials, sell them if he could. They'd be obsolete with Mnex's upgrades. If he managed to sell them, great. If not, no big loss.
I explained that all interior walls had to come down, top to bottom. The ground floor would become the production area, and the upper floor would serve as Mnex's lab.
Well, of course people would think the lab was for me. Let them. I'm the genius, right?
Mnex doesn't mind staying invisible. Smug bastard.
The full layout and construction plan would be delivered to Charles via Raymond within a day or two.
I handed Charles the 39 Solmar I had left from last night's winnings, 71 in total, minus 25 for Raymond and 7 for the potion. Mnex had already crunched the numbers, construction would cost between 20 and 25 Solmar, tools and materials another 10 to 12, and administrative costs around 2 to 4. That put the total estimate between 32 and 41 Solmar. My 39 was right on target.
Raymond would oversee everything and report only to me. Charles would manage on site operations and report to Raymond. Since I'd taken over the workshop by clearing his debt, I offered Charles the same annual salary as Raymond, 24 Solmar. Definitely better than whatever he was making before.
With everything settled, we said our goodbyes and left the office.
Gareth kept trying to ask questions as we walked, curiosity getting the better of him, but I brushed him off each time.
It was during one of those moments that we stumbled upon a scene in the street.
"What do you mean, fifteen mar?! You'd rob me for stale bread?" someone yelled.
"Don't like stale? Buy fresh, twenty mar," the market woman snapped back.
"It was five mar just two days past! You've lost your wits, woman!"
"I don't make the prices. Don't like it? Find another stall!"
Before I could ask, Mnex jumped in.
"In case you're wondering, it's early June. Harvest season is near. Every year around this time, people stock up, whatever they gather during harvest is meant to last until the next one. But this year, thanks to the poisoned lands, storages will fall short. Which means…"
'Famine,' I said.
"Correct. And while you, as the Lord's son, probably won't suffer much… the same can't be said for the poor. Whoever poisoned the soil did it at the perfect time."
For some reason, those words made something boil inside me.
"Gareth, what's the status of my family's reserves?"
"My lord... I'm not entirely sure," he said cautiously, "but your family never really stockpiled. Most winters, they shared what they had with the poor. Your lands are fertile, so as far as I know, famine has never been an issue."
I could feel Doyle staring at me, his expression unreadable, but somehow hopeful. As if he believed I could fix this.
Mnex? If the famine is because of the poisoned land, is there a way to fix this without using the land at all? Or maybe cleanse the poison... using future knowledge?
"Analysis initiated... analysis in progress... analysis complete."
Wow, that was fast.
"You asked a question based on information already stored in the system. Not something I had to learn from this world," it replied.
Can we do it without magic?
"Short answer, yes. But it'll take hard work. Way more than your past life ever demanded. Are you ready for that?"
Damn right I am. Human lives are at stake. What do I do?
"Chicken. Chicken droppings. And lightning."
What?
"Chicken. Chicken droppings. And lightning."
I heard you the first time. I just don't understand what the hell that means.
"I always forget how dumb you are. Let me break it down. If crops won't grow, then raise chickens. Chickens lay eggs. Their droppings and byproducts from your soap workshop, can enrich the soil. Lightning striking the ground creates nitrogen compounds that boost fertility. So, once again, chicken, chicken droppings, and lightning."
This was it. The grand solution. Not steel, not fire, not gold just poultry, poop, and the wrath of the heavens. Gods help me.
"You genius son of a—"
"I'm sorry, what did you say, young lord?"
"Ah… nothing. Just thinking out loud."
"Gareth, who's in charge of city administration in my father's absence?"
"Sir William, sir. Why?"
"We need to see him. Now."
We headed straight for the mansion, urgency in every step. On the way, Mnex walked me through the full plan, each phase, each component, and ways to improve it. But no matter how fast he explained, our pace felt too slow. Eventually, I just started running.
"Where are we going?" Gareth called behind me.
"To save the city. With poultry."
" KNEW YA! It'd be chiken one d'y!" Robin yelled back.
We reached the administrative wing of the mansion soon after. At the end of the second floor corridor stood Sir William's office. I knocked once.
"Enter!" came the reply, deep and gravelly.
"Ah, look who it is," he said as I stepped in. "Young lord, please come in."
He stood up slowly, older than even my father, his desk buried under stacks of papers. Without waiting, he sat down in one of the guest chairs, facing me and the group trailing behind.
"You show up with such a crowd… This must be important," he said.
Raymond, Gareth, Isolde, Doyle, and Robin had followed me in. Etiquette meant something to the first three, nothing to the last two. I didn't mind, but even I could feel their curiosity pressing into the room like humidity before a storm.
I got straight to the point.
"Sir William, I know you're a busy man. Everything in this city flows through your office. So please, listen carefully to what I'm about to say."
He scratched his chin, eyes narrowing.
"I'm listening, young lord."
"As you know, famine is looming over the city. The cause doesn't matter right now, what matters is how we can minimize the damage."
He suddenly let out a hearty laugh.
"Hohoho! It's admirable, truly, that you care so deeply even before inheriting your title. But don't burden yourself. Lord Godfrey and I will—"
"I've already found a solution."
This time, I cut him off.
"Please, just hear me out. I want you to issue a city wide proclamation. Ask everyone in Godfrey's Cross to hand over their chickens to us. In exchange, promise that by winter, they'll receive eggs and chicken meat. For those without chickens, let them know they can still benefit if they help with the work that will be assigned."
"For decades, I've dealt with floods, fires, and bandits... but not once did I think I'd be taking farming advice from a boy barely old enough to shave."
"Well, if it helps stop people from starving, I don't mind growing a beard."
"That's... not realistic. How could we possibly feed everyone with chickens and eggs?"
"I was getting to that."
"Tomorrow, I'll bring you detailed drafts, new incubation methods, blueprints for custom built nests, and techniques to rapidly fatten the birds. If we follow those plans, no, it won't solve everything... but it might just be enough to keep people alive through winter.
Also, when the fertilization period arrives, the chickens' droppings combined with a mixture from a workshop I'll assign, will be added to the soil. It won't cleanse the poison entirely, but it will reduce its effect significantly.
To get the most out of this, we'll need blacksmiths. That's where you come in again."
"Blacksmiths? What for?"
"They'll forge iron stakes. Seven meters tall. Thick base, buried deep in the earth. Thin tips pointed to the sky. Once the fertilization is done and rainy season starts, those rods will attract lightning."
He blinked.
"Lightning will break down the remaining magic in the soil and recharge the land's fertility. That's the plan."
"Are you even aware of what you're saying, young lord? All of this sounds like utter madness."
"Yes. I'm sure it does."
I leaned forward slightly.
"But ask yourself this, what if I'm right? What's the worst that happens if I'm wrong? Famine is coming either way. If my father can't find a mage, we'll be completely helpless. And even if he does, how many would it take to cleanse land this large?"
My words hung in the air. Sir William didn't respond right away. Good, he was thinking. He wouldn't have held this post for long if he weren't sharp.
I pressed on.
"If I'm wrong, we've wasted some iron and time. But if I'm right... we'll save lives."
I hadn't even finished the sentence when the office door burst open.