Lord: Starting with Biological Modification

Newly Town was bustling with excitement once again.

Bright red cloth banners stretched from the tower of the Lord’s Mansion all the way to the town entrance. The coarse linen, saturated with dye, snapped sharply in the autumn wind, creating a very festive atmosphere.

Every townsperson wore a cheerful grin—the kind of deep-seated contentment that comes from having a full belly.

Even the air was filled with the aroma of ale and roasted meat.

Some unfamiliar faces mingled in the crowd; they were "temporary workers" who had come from nearby villages.

A young man stared blankly as a child ran past him, pinching a few golden, crispy-thin slices between two fingers and eating them with a CRUNCH, CRUNCH. The rich aroma made him swallow involuntarily.

He knew they were a new snack made from sea salt potatoes, something only families with plenty of merit points could afford to trade for.

They looked at the thick clothes worn by the residents of Newly Town, at the rosy cheeks of the children chasing and playing, their hearts full of envy.

The prosperity they yearned for back home, which had always been out of reach, seemed to be everywhere here.

An oak barrel filled with ale was carried with grunts of effort through the crowd and into a newly renovated building.

A new wooden sign hung above the door, with large, crooked words written in charcoal: Brothers, Boars, and Booze.

The main door was wide open. Tumo stood behind the bar, wiping a wooden mug with a cloth.

He stood ramrod straight, his back, once stooped from hard labor, now as upright as a spear.

He and his brothers had been the biggest winners in the great sea salt potato harvest. They used their "first pot of sugar" to hire the most laborers, then exchanged a massive amount of merit points for the operating rights to this tavern—of course, that was also thanks to a private discount from the Baron.

Now, he was no longer a farmer scraping for food. He had become "Boss Tumo"!

"Boss! A bowl of mashed potatoes, and make it a double portion of the wild boar meat!" a burly, bearded man shouted, waving his hand.

"You got it!" Tumo responded in a booming voice. He deftly scooped a ladle of steaming mashed potatoes from a large pot in the back kitchen, then picked out two pieces of boar meat that had been stewed until tender.

He watched the patrons sitting in small groups around the tavern, listening as they shot the breeze, complaining about the hardships of clearing the land, then bragging about the new tools they’d traded for. An unprecedented sense of satisfaction filled his chest.

He turned his head to look out the window. His gaze passed over the bustling street and landed on the square in the center of town.

There, giant, colorful spheres were held aloft by invisible Magic Power, floating slowly above the square.

Beneath the spheres, Caroline walked on the somewhat muddy path in her exquisite short boots, holding up the hem of her dress.

"Isn’t it a bit early to be hanging the colored spheres with levitation magic?" Caroline scanned the square’s arrangements, her gaze finally settling on Velin.

"We have to let everyone get a feel for the atmosphere in advance," Velin said, directing several villagers who were building a wooden platform. "Besides, once our guests arrive, we won’t have this much time for the finer details."

Caroline huffed, accepting his explanation.

She looked around at the simple display shelves, long banquet tables, and the huge bonfire pit in the center, all personally designed by Velin. Everything was arranged in an orderly fashion, rustic but with a unique charm.

"The first batch of dishes is ready," Velin said, dusting off his hands. He led Caroline toward a temporary kitchen set up on one side of the square.

"Dishes?" Caroline was puzzled. "Isn’t it just roasted meat and mashed potatoes? What other tricks could there be?"

Velin didn’t answer, simply lifting the curtain flap of the kitchen.

An unusual and overwhelming aroma instantly rushed out, captivating Caroline’s sense of smell.

As the president of the Golden Sail Commerce Association, her dining table never lacked for masterpieces from the Duchy’s finest chefs. But this aroma... she had truly never smelled anything like it. It piqued her curiosity.

Inside the kitchen, a few specially chosen women were bustling about nervously, strictly following the recipes Velin had provided.

In a large pot, a golden broth was BUBBLING, with chunks of chicken and sea salt potatoes tumbling within. This was the source of the strange aroma.

"This is called Yellow-Braised Chicken." Velin used a long ladle to scoop up a piece of potato drenched in the sauce and held it out to Caroline. "Try it."

Caroline hesitated for a moment, but still took a dainty bite. The next second, her eyes lit up.

The potato was stewed to be exceptionally soft and tender, melting in her mouth. But the most wonderful part was how it had soaked up the rich sauce. Salty, savory, sweet, and umami—the flavors exploded on her tongue in layers, making her emerald-green eyes shine even brighter.

This flavor was enough to make even the Royal Capital’s finest "Lemon-Sauce Skewered Lark" seem bland and tasteless!

"There’s also these."

Caroline mechanically turned her head and saw Velin pointing to the side.

There were plates of golden-brown fried potato strips sprinkled with crushed salt and basil; potato pancakes made from a mix of mashed potatoes and flour; and a steaming bowl of mashed potatoes covered with a thick layer of cheese, tantalizingly browned and fragrant.

The methods for preparing these foods were unheard of, yet they exuded an irresistible charm.

She didn’t speak, merely gesturing with her eyes for Velin to let her try each one. With every taste, the light in her eyes grew brighter.

Caroline watched Velin patiently explaining the cooking heat to a kitchen maid and suddenly felt that this man held an endless supply of secrets.

"The recipes," she said, putting down the food and staring intently at Velin, her tone leaving no room for argument. "Sell the exclusive rights to these recipes to me. I can use them to get a seat at the tables of at least three Marquises!"

"The recipes belong to the Grey Marsh Territory, but the business can be ’ours’."

"Besides, President Caroline, do you really think I went to all this trouble just to sell a few dishes?"

Caroline instinctively imagined the shocked expressions on the faces of the arriving lords and merchants when they tasted these unprecedented delicacies.

She licked her lips, where the aroma of the Yellow-Braised Chicken still lingered, and the anticipation in her eyes grew even stronger.

...

「Meanwhile, at the port of Shiyan Town, a two-day journey from Newly Town.」

The scene here was as chaotic as ever, a mixture of sailors’ curses and the noise of cargo being loaded and unloaded.

Barrett, wearing a simple linen cloak, stood by the second-floor window of a dockside tavern, his remaining right eye reflecting the bustling crowd below.

Following Velin’s orders, he had arrived early to welcome the first potential "guests."

The sea breeze blew in, carrying a damp, salty scent.

Suddenly, a black dot appeared on the horizon where the sea met the sky.

The dot grew larger, and the silhouette of a ship gradually became clear.

It was an armed merchant ship. A black-backed flag unfurled in the wind from its mast.

Embroidered on it with Golden Thread was a set of scales, with a sword on one side and a Gold Coin on the other.

That was the flag of the Seven Ports Alliance.