Lord: Starting with Biological Modification

"Cat’s Eye" pushed open the tavern’s creaking wooden door.

The smell of cheap ale, sweat, and a strange, burnt-potato scent hit him in the face.

He was used to it, feeling as if he’d come home. As the captain of the Blackrock Hand’s "cleanup" squad, he was long accustomed to carrying out missions in all sorts of wretched hives.

Two squad members, one tall and one short, followed him in without a sound.

They each took up positions near the door and a window. Their movements and stances seemed casual, but they were the product of a seasoned Body Technique, honed through countless trials, allowing them to both observe the entire room and react at a moment’s notice.

The tavern was lively, but this liveliness struck Cat’s Eye as odd.

In his experience, taverns in pioneer territories like this were supposed to be dens of vipers, brimming with resentment. Drunkards should be cursing the damn nobles, complaining about the heavy labor, bragging about their outlandish adventures, or getting into brawls over a few Copper Leaves.

These places were the perfect breeding grounds for rumors and rebellion. A single spark could ignite the entire territory.

But this place wasn’t like that.

The dozen or so rough wooden tables were filled with townspeople who had just gotten off work. They wore coarse, mud-stained clothes, and while their faces showed fatigue, their eyes held none of the numbness or resentment Cat’s Eye had expected.

"...so if you reduce the beet spacing by another half-finger’s width, they won’t compete for nutrients, but you can increase the yield per acre by ten percent. I’m going to try it on half an acre tomorrow, and I’m calling dibs..." a burly, stubbled man was gesturing wildly to his tablemates, spitting as he spoke.

"Five-man squad for a swamp cleanup still needs a Scout! Three merit points guaranteed daily, plus extra for any herbs and wild vegetables you find. Who’s in?" a tall, skinny man shouted from a corner.

"Did you guys hear? The first list for the Lord’s Mansion’s ’Strengthening Program’ is about to be announced! I’ve saved up over three hundred merit points these past two months. I wonder if it’s enough to qualify."

"Merit points," "yield," "hunts," "programs"...

These words flew back and forth across the tavern as people engaged in heated discussions.

Cat’s Eye listened for a long time but didn’t hear a single complaint about the lord.

He felt like he hadn’t walked into a tavern, but rather a trading post that also happened to serve food and drink.

Suppressing his doubts, he gave a subtle nod.

The tall squad member understood, walked to the bar, and rapped on the counter with two polished Silver Moons.

"Bartender, three of your best ales. Also, we’d like to ask about something."

Anna was counting something on her fingers. She glanced at the tall man, saw the Silver Moons, and cursed her bad luck internally. Without even looking up, she pointed to a sign written in charcoal on the wall.

"Pour your own drinks, put the money in the jar. If you want to ask questions, go to the guild hall, right outside the door. Don’t bother me while I’m doing my accounts."

The tall squad member’s smile froze on his face.

Cat’s Eye paid no mind to his subordinate’s awkward situation, his gaze locking onto a target.

It was a man huddled in a corner, his clothes ragged and his hair a bird’s nest. He was sipping a small mug of ale and looked utterly destitute—the perfect target for buying information.

Cat’s Eye walked over and placed a heavy coin purse on the table, which landed with a crisp, metallic clink.

"Friend, care to earn a little extra?"

The man looked up, his eyes darting between the coin purse and Cat’s Eye’s face.

A grin split his face, revealing a set of yellow teeth. He laughed so hard his shoulders shook.

SWIPE—!

The man suddenly swiped his arm, knocking the coin purse to the floor.

The sharp clatter of metal echoed through the room as a dozen or so Silver Moons clinked and rolled across the floor. The entire tavern fell silent, all eyes fixed on the scene.

The scene unfolded so unexpectedly that Cat’s Eye’s heart nearly leaped out of his throat.

"Outsider, what do you take this place for?"

The ragged man stood up, pointing at Cat’s Eye’s nose. His voice suddenly rose, filled with a strange sense of superiority.

"Trying to buy me off with your stinking money? I’m so damn close to having enough merit points for my citizenship certificate!"

He didn’t give Cat’s Eye a chance to react. He bolted for the tavern door, shouting at the top of his lungs as he ran.

"Guards! Guards! Someone’s in here using money to buy information! Get over here! Those fifty merit points are mine!"

The tavern erupted.

The surrounding townspeople all turned to look at Cat’s Eye, a greedy, eager light in their eyes.

Cat’s Eye’s face turned ashen.

"Go!"

With no time to retrieve the coin purse, he drew his dagger to scare off the crowd and fled the tavern with his men in disarray.

Meanwhile, the infiltration attempts of the other three agents were also hitting a wall.

The agent code-named Viper, a specialist in spreading panic, found a group of women washing clothes by a well and put on a worried expression.

"Ladies, let me tell you a secret, but you must promise not to tell anyone."

He lowered his voice. "I have a brother who works for the Lord’s Mansion. He said it seems there’s a waking dragon trapped beneath Mist Spring Valley. The ground is going to become unstable soon!"

He waited to see the panicked looks on the women’s faces.

However, the women stopped their work and looked at him with the kind of expression one reserves for a simpleton.

One of them, the most burly-looking woman, even walked over and placed her fan-sized hand on Viper’s forehead.

"Young man, is your swamp fever from a few days ago acting up again? Are you starting to talk nonsense?"

"That’s right, that’s right," another woman added. "Lord Velin grew our houses directly from the ground with Stone Skin Soft Vine. The foundations go dozens of meters deep, steadier than a great tree. How could they possibly collapse from a tremor?"

"If you’re sick, you should hurry over to the town’s guild clinic. You even get a ten percent discount if you pay with merit points right now! Don’t put it off, or it might become a chronic problem."

Viper stood with his mouth agape, unable to utter a single word.

’Houses... can be grown?’

Elsewhere, the agent code-named Ghost was attempting to infiltrate the artisan district to sabotage the facilities.

But as soon as he got close, he was stopped by two guards.

"Halt! What are you doing here?"

"I... I’m looking for work."

"Let’s see your identification."

"Identification? What’s that?"

The guard looked at him as if he were an idiot and jabbed his spear forward. "Out-of-towners looking for work can only take farming jobs outside the town walls. No identification, no entry to the workshop area. That’s the rule."

Ghost had no choice but to retreat sullenly. He secretly circled the perimeter of the workshop area, only to find that every entrance was manned by a dedicated guard.

He couldn’t even get close.

「Night fell.」

Six exhausted agents gathered in an abandoned lumberjack’s cabin outside of town.

The atmosphere in the cabin was heavy.

"What the hell kind of place is this?"

Viper was the first to break, cursing under his breath as he punched an earthen wall, sending a shower of dust drifting down.

"The people here... they’ve all been brainwashed."

Ghost’s voice was hoarse. "They don’t believe in anything except those damn merit points. Every single person here is a loyal lapdog of the Lord’s Mansion!"

Cat’s Eye’s expression was unreadable in the flickering lamplight.

He had been in this business for over a decade. He had infiltrated heavily guarded noble castles and incited riots in free city-states, but he had never felt as powerless as he did today.

His proud infiltration techniques, his inflammatory rhetoric, his bribery—in this remote pioneer territory, none of it caused so much as a ripple. It was like punching cotton, a complete waste of effort.

’Is this really a Pioneer Town? I’m not sure even a military fortress where every citizen is a soldier would be this tough.’

"Conventional methods have failed."

Cat’s Eye made his decision. "The target, Purple Cat, knows something about the Lord of the Gray Swamp. We absolutely cannot let her talk. Prepare to execute the backup plan."

"Captain, you mean... a direct assault?"

"Correct." A vicious glint flashed in Cat’s Eye’s eyes. "We move tonight. Find her. If we can’t take her, kill her. Then we’ll set this place on fire and turn this whole damn town upside down!"

They began to check their weapons and plan their route, the air of professional killers returning to them once more.

But no one noticed a shadow on the rafters above them shift slightly, as if stirred by a gentle breeze.

Xiaolan’s body was one with the darkness, and she had heard every single word of their plan.