Lord: Starting with Biological Modification

The nights in Minas Tirith were as boisterous as ever, but unlike before, the hubbub had moved from the taverns into the courtyard residences.

The lighting supplies in the Points Shop had long since sold out, but this did little to dampen the people’s thirst for knowledge.

In their rooms, young people lit tallow lamps and gathered in small groups. They sat huddled under the dim, yellow glow, poring over the official textbooks and discussing them in low voices.

The SHUSH of turning pages and the murmur of debate drifted through the windows, rising and falling in the night air.

"How do you solve this? Three hundred seventy Golden Suns, eight Silver Moons, and eleven and three-quarters Copper Leaves... This damned duodecimal system!"

A young artisan wailed, scratching his head as he repeatedly scribbled out numbers on a piece of paper with a charcoal pencil.

"Remember, one Golden Sun is twenty Silver Moons, and one Silver Moon is twelve Copper Leaves. Don’t mess it up," his companion reminded him.

He slammed down his quill and roared at his friend.

"Why does one Silver Moon have to be twelve Copper Leaves? And why does one Golden Sun have to be twenty Silver Moons? That’s two hundred forty Copper Leaves! The neighboring Empire uses a decimal system—they can do the math in the blink of an eye! And us?"

He pointed at his pile of ruined scratch paper.

"I’ve used half a bottle of ink just to add these three items! Whoever invented this currency must be a demon who hates the world! Why can’t it just be one hundred Copper Leaves to a Golden Sun? Think of how many clerks would be saved from tearing their hair out!"

His friend didn’t even look up, replying drily.

"’Think about it. If they changed everything to a decimal system, the accounting would be too fast. Would the Lord’s Mansion need to hire so many clerks? You idiot, our livelihoods depend on this duodecimal system!’"

The young artisan froze.

He looked at the problem before him, and suddenly the string of numbers started to look quite endearing.

Study groups like this could be found all over the city.

From the docks to the city hall, from the artisan district to the residential blocks, the sounds of recitation, discussion, and complaint filled the air.

Hundred-man Captain Laine sat at his desk, a thick stack of documents piled before him.

Basic Law, Administrative Management, Personnel Deployment—every subject came with a detailed exam syllabus.

Barton pushed the door open and came in, a textbook also in his hand.

"Laine, have you figured out Chapter Three? The part about conflict resolution."

Laine looked up, his eyes bloodshot.

"I’ve read it three times and there are still parts I don’t get. You?"

"I’m doing even worse." Barton flopped into a chair. "This stuff is a lot harder than fighting. But since the Lord has given us this chance, we have to seize it with everything we’ve got."

The two men exchanged a look, each seeing the hope in the other’s eyes.

"You think we’ll be able to pass?" Laine asked.

"I don’t know. But I know if we don’t try, we’ll never get the chance." Barton opened his book. "Let’s keep at it. Two days left."

Meanwhile, in Newly Town, the atmosphere inside the "Brothers, Boars, and Beer" tavern was completely different.

A few veterans were gathered around a table in the corner, half-empty mugs before them.

The dim candlelight cast shadows on their faces, highlighting their discontent.

"An exam?" Jack, a veteran missing a finger, slammed his mug down. "I fought my way out of Gray Mist Village with the Lord, and now I’m supposed to take a test alongside a bunch of greenhorn kids?"

The old hunter sitting across from him nodded.

"That’s right. I stood guard for three days and three nights during the Month of Weeping, didn’t even dare blink. Do these kids even know what it means to put your life on the line?"

"The Lord has changed," a third veteran said in a low voice. "He used to value loyalty and courage above all else. Now, all he cares about are the ones who can write."

Jack raised his mug and took a large gulp.

"I’m not saying the Lord is wrong, but there’s a problem with this system. When it comes to merit, seniority, or knowledge of the territory, how are we any worse than those kids?"

"If you ask me, there ought to be two different systems," the old hunter said, rapping his knuckles on the table. "The newcomers can have their new path, but us old-timers deserve to be treated like old-timers."

Though they kept their voices low, other patrons in the tavern still overheard snippets of their conversation.

Some shot furtive glances their way, their expressions complicated.

Tumo was wiping a mug behind the bar. Hearing their words, his hands stilled.

He recalled the night Velin had sat right here, and he remembered the Lord’s words.

The next morning, Kael walked into Velin’s study, a thick report in his hand.

The secret organization known as the "Gebiewu" was now affiliated with the Security Department, and he himself had been slated to be the department’s Vice Minister.

"My Lord, the situation is more complicated than I anticipated."

Velin was reviewing a document on harbor defenses and didn’t look up.

"Go on."

"The veterans’ discontent is spreading. They feel the new system ignores their past contributions and is a betrayal." Kael opened his report. "According to the Gebiewu’s investigation, similar talk has been heard in at least seven different gathering places."

Velin set the document down and leaned back in his chair.

"What are their specific demands?"

"They want preferential treatment. The old guard should be assigned positions directly based on seniority and merit, while only the newcomers should be required to take the exam."

"Anything else?"

"They’re demanding a guarantee that their current positions won’t be affected. Even if they fail the exam, they can’t be demoted."

Velin fell silent for a moment, then rose and walked to the window.

Outside, the lights from the residential districts twinkled across the square like a galaxy of stars.

"Kael, do you think their demands are reasonable?"

"From an emotional standpoint, they have a point," Kael answered cautiously. "They have indeed given a great deal for the territory. Those contributions shouldn’t be ignored."

"But?"

"But if we make this exception, the new system will be undermined from the start. Preferential treatment means we’re actually just perpetuating the old hierarchy, and we’d just be lying to the young people."

Velin turned to face Kael.

"What are you worried about?"

"Stability," Kael said bluntly. "These veterans have influence in the military and among the populace. If they truly oppose the new system, it could lead to unrest."

Velin returned to his desk and sat down.

"Summon them to see me. Tomorrow afternoon, right here."

"You intend to?"

"Hear them out." Velin picked up his quill. "Some things really do need to be discussed face-to-face."

By that evening, the news had spread throughout Newly Town: the Lord himself would grant an audience to the dissenting veterans.

In the tavern, Jack and his companions gathered to plan their strategy.

"The Lord is willing to see us. That means he still acknowledges us," the old hunter said, a little excited. "We have to make our case clearly this time."

"Right. We can’t let those young people push us aside," another veteran chimed in. "We didn’t come here just to retire."

Jack nodded.

"Everyone watch what you say tomorrow. We don’t want the Lord to think we’re just making trouble. We just want the respect we’re due."

Meanwhile, the young people’s enthusiasm for their studies remained completely unaffected.

They knew of the veterans’ discontent, but it only strengthened their belief that this was their chance to change their fate.

Laine and Barton were still burning the midnight oil, the papers on their desk piled into a small mountain.

"How do you think the Lord will handle this?" Barton asked, closing his book and rubbing his sore eyes.

"I don’t know." Laine shook his head. "But I trust the Lord’s judgment. He never does anything without a good reason."

"I feel the same way." Barton reopened his book. "Regardless, all we can do is prepare for the exam. When an opportunity comes, you have to be ready to take it."

Night had fallen, but the entire territory was still ablaze with light.

Two forces, old and new, converged upon the land. Everyone was waiting for the answer that tomorrow would bring.