Lord: Starting with Biological Modification

The squatting young man’s body stiffened. He slowly turned around.

His face was etched with the exhaustion of long-term research. His eyes were murky and held a hint of vigilance as he sized up Ryo.

"Who are you?" His voice was hoarse.

"Did the Founders send you to laugh at me? Or are you some noble’s steward, looking to buy my manuscript?"

He twisted his lips into an ugly smile.

"Get out."

Ryo ignored the dismissal.

He took a plain linen pouch from his coat, untied the drawstring, and poured its contents into his palm.

It was a handful of dark brown, granular material.

Elvin frowned. His first thought was that it was some new type of alchemical catalyst.

But he couldn’t feel any Magic Power fluctuations from it, only a rich, earthy fragrance mixed with the scent of minerals.

"What is this trick?" Elvin asked coldly.

Ryo met his scrutinizing gaze, gave a slight bow, and offered a gentle, sincere smile.

"Master Elvin, this is no trick."

"My lord once said that immense Magic Power can make plants grow, but it cannot grant life to the soil. When a plant gets sick, perhaps one should see if the problem lies with the soil itself."

Having said that, Ryo offered no further explanation. He picked up the flowerpot and carefully sprinkled the dark brown granules at the base of the scorched black plant.

The plant was called "Silver Moon Masque," a Level 3 Magic Potion Plant with extremely demanding cultivation requirements. It was also the experimental subject Elvin had spent his last savings to acquire, and now it was on the verge of death.

Elvin didn’t stop him.

The other man’s words were strange, but he wanted to see what this young man was up to.

After mixing the granules into the soil, Ryo explained to Elvin.

"This is called ’Compound Fertilizer No. 1.’ It’s made by processing it through a special Magical Beast, mixing it with various mineral powders, and then inoculating it with a special bacterial culture to ferment."

"Please cast a basic ’Rain Skill’ on it."

A flash of impatience crossed Elvin’s eyes, but he raised his hand nonetheless.

He uttered the incantation, and a faint wisp of water vapor coalesced above the flowerpot, turning into a few drops that seeped into the soil.

The next moment, a change occurred.

Upon contact with water, the dark brown granules seemed to dissolve, releasing an even richer aura of life.

From the base of the Silver Moon Masque’s charcoal-black stem, a faint spot of green emerged.

The spot of green didn’t spread explosively like it would with Natural Magic; instead, it advanced upwards, very slowly but steadily.

’What could be the reason for this?!’

Ryo paid no mind to Elvin’s shock. He unrolled a parchment scroll on the floor.

It was a diagram. There were no magic runes on it, only a set of strange-looking drawings.

At the very top was "Magic Potion Plants."

An arrow pointed to "Magical Beast" in the lower right corner.

Another arrow went from "Magical Beast" to "Dung Beetles" in the lower left.

The last arrow started from "Dung Beetles" and pointed back to "Magic Potion Plants" at the top.

A closed loop.

’What is this?’

Elvin stared at the diagram, his mind buzzing.

The theories he was so passionate about—the ones the academy dismissed as "Druid delusions," conjectures about soil, microbial colonies, and Life Resonance—were all clearly expressed in this simple diagram.

He snapped his head up, his face alight with the excitement of a researcher discovering a profound truth.

He grabbed Ryo’s shoulders.

"Who is this?! Who created this?! Which esteemed Grandmaster is it?"

Ryo answered calmly.

"My lord, Baron Velin Klein. He calls this system the ’Extraordinary Ecological Cycle’."

"Ecological... Cycle..."

Elvin muttered to himself. With the help of those words, everything he had learned and theorized began to rapidly piece itself together.

He had found the path he had been searching for his entire life.

Ryo rolled up the diagram and extended an invitation.

"My lord wishes to invite you to his territory to personally manage and optimize this system. Are you interested?"

...

「The Golden Sail Commerce Association’s offices in the Royal Capital.」

Elvin followed Ryo through a hallway laid with expensive carpets. Along the way, he was still relentlessly asking about the various details of the "Ecological Cycle," and Ryo could only do his best to answer with what he knew.

When the door to the reception room was pushed open, Elvin expected to see the scholarly noble who had conceived of this system.

But sitting in the main seat was a young woman in an expensive silk dress. She was looking through a ledger without even raising her head, and her mere presence made the atmosphere in the room feel somewhat heavy.

Caroline.

She didn’t launch into an enthusiastic academic discussion, nor did she praise Elvin’s talent.

She simply closed the ledger, glanced up at him, and then gestured to a servant standing nearby.

A parchment contract filled with clauses was pushed in front of Elvin.

Elvin picked up the contract.

The terms on it felt foreign and cold to him.

"Technology patent dividends," "phased-result evaluations," "intellectual property ownership"... these terms quantified his research into a series of tradable commercial clauses.

These cold, commercial terms made him feel as if the truth he pursued had been turned into a commodity that could be appraised and sold.

’My ideals have been sullied.’

Elvin’s brow furrowed, a strong sense of resistance welling up inside him.

"What is the meaning of this? My research is about exploring the truths of the world, not for..."

"Not for making money, right?" Caroline interrupted him. She stood up, walked to the massive floor-to-ceiling window, and watched the cargo ships gliding along the canal outside.

"Mage Elvin, ideals are a luxury. Without money, your ideals don’t even have the soil in which to sprout."

"This contract isn’t buying your ideals; it’s fitting them with the strongest armor so they can stand against the reality of this world."

She turned and walked toward Elvin.

"I’ve read your file. Last month, you went to beg a professor to approve your request for three ’Earth Dragon Grass Roots’ as experimental materials, and he publicly humiliated you, saying your research was a waste of the academy’s resources."

"The month before that, the ornamental flowers you cultivated failed to meet the standards of the noble lady who commissioned them, so she docked half your payment, leaving you unable to afford new experimental equipment."

Every one of Caroline’s words was like picking at Elvin’s old wounds.

He remembered the tedious commissions he had to take just to raise funds.

He remembered the mockery from those around him when his experimental field was taken away.

At that moment, Caroline pointed to a clause in the contract.

"’Unlimited research funding, priority supply of experimental materials.’"

She emphasized her words, playing her final card.

"And the most important clause: The Grey Marsh Territory promises to grant Mage Elvin complete and independent freedom in his field of research. No one, including Baron Velin himself, may interfere with your research process for any reason whatsoever."

Elvin stared at the line of text, his breathing becoming ragged.

Independent research freedom.

This was exactly what he had dreamed of, but never obtained.

He spoke with difficulty, "Such generous terms... what’s the catch?"

"Smart." Caroline flashed a merchant’s smile. She flipped to the last page of the contract and pointed to the supplementary clauses.

"A twenty-year employment contract. During this period, the Grey Marsh Territory will have priority usage rights and patent ownership for all of your research findings."

"Personally, you will be required to cooperate with all related activities of the Grey Marsh Territory, including but not limited to giving lectures, teaching apprentices, and... appearing as a representative of the Grey Marsh Territory’s talent at any promotional event we deem necessary."

Elvin fell silent.

He looked at the contract, and his thoughts drifted back to the revitalized Silver Moon Masque in the greenhouse.

On one side was his "pure ideal," trampled on and about to wither.

On the other was the "soil of reality," which required him to pay with his freedom and reputation, but would allow his ideal to flourish.

After a long moment, he picked up the quill from the table, dipped it in ink, and solemnly signed his name at the end of the contract.

He, once a pure idealist, was beginning to understand and accept the rules of reality.

Caroline collected the contract, a look of success on her face. She gave an order to the subordinate waiting outside the door.

"Initiate ’Operation Tempest.’ I want the entire Royal Capital to be abuzz with the story of a genius Mage’s quest for truth by tomorrow morning."