Make the Cake Bigger

Drogo stared curiously at the enormous liquid fermentation tank. A window on its side gave him a clear view of what was happening inside.

Massive stirring blades churned the bright red, viscous liquid as it blended and fermented, sending up wave after wave of bubbling froth.

It was mesmerizing. Truly mesmerizing.

He had already been watching for half an hour.

Who didn't enjoy watching heavy machinery at work? Back then, he could sit by a construction site and watch an excavator dig all day.

Bulldozers were good too, but tower cranes were no good. They were too thin and lanky, nowhere near as satisfying.

"Here's the healing potion you wanted." Aisha handed Drogo a freshly bottled potion.

Of course, he wasn't injured. Even if he were, healing potions would not do much for him; his natural recovery was several times faster than drinking medicine.

He simply wanted a taste. A dragon's formidable physique meant nothing would go wrong no matter what it ate, so whenever he came across something unfamiliar, he wanted to take a bite first.

After downing a bottle of healing potion, he found the taste strangely familiar. It was like traditional Chinese medicine diluted many times over—slightly bitter at first, then faintly sweet after swallowing, with the tart astringency of lemon peel.

It felt like something was missing.

Then he spotted a huge gas bag connected to the top of the fermentation tank and said to Xin 104, "Ask one of the engineers what that gas bag is for."

Before long, Xin 104 returned. "It collects the non-combustible gas produced during fermentation. It is sold to alchemists for making fire extinguishing agents."

"Non-combustible gas?" If he were still in his final year of high school, he would have immediately remembered how to test it. Unfortunately, he had graduated too many years ago. He thought for a long time, and his head started itching like he was about to grow a brain.

Finally, Drogo said, "Prepare some slaked lime. Dissolve it in water, let it settle, then take the clear layer on top. I need it."

The experimental materials were soon prepared.

Since there were no transparent containers, they requisitioned the colorless glass wineglass Lagu had left behind. At the current level of productivity, such things counted as luxuries.

They filled half the glass with clear limewater, cut open the packed gas bag, and ran a straw into the glass.

The solution immediately turned cloudy white. After gas continued to pass through it for a while, the liquid cleared again.

It really was carbon dioxide!

Aisha's eyes widened. "What kind of magic is this? So you're an alchemist too."

"Hmph." Drogo snorted disdainfully. "If you don't study hard, magic is everywhere in life."

Then he said to Xin 104, "Write this down and pass it on to the pharmacists. I have a bold idea..."

While the pharmacists conducted small experiments, several druids from the Spore Society waited anxiously in the reception room.

One of the younger ones asked, "Should we still protest later?"

"Of course we should. And we should protest firmly."

"But Lagu's whereabouts are still unknown. What if we also get..."

"The God of Nature will protect us."

"But hasn't the God of Nature already..."

"Cough!"

The older druid shot him a glare, signaling for him not to say the wrong thing.

Just then, Ren 82 opened the reception room door, and Aisha and Drogo walked in.

The surprise in the druids' eyes made it clear that they had not expected such a young girl to come negotiate with them.

Aisha took her seat and began, "Let's discuss the matter of cooperation—"

"I refuse!" Before Aisha could finish, the young druid sprang up as though a firecracker had exploded beneath him. With a resolute expression, he shouted, "The druids of the Spore Society will never be corrupted by slaves of machinery!"

An eerie silence fell over the reception room.

"What's wrong with him?" Aisha asked uncertainly.

"Well, he ate too many undercooked mushrooms a few days ago. Something went wrong with his brain."

The older druid hurriedly dragged him back into his chair. "Sorry, sorry. We are very willing to cooperate."

The young druid stared at his mentor in shock, as though his innocent heart had been betrayed.

"Good." Aisha steered the conversation back on track. "We plan to expand the production scale of healing potions, but we have a major shortage of skilled personnel. We hope you will join the potion factory."

"But we have sworn an oath to make potions only through natural methods."

"That's fine. We never intended for you to join the production line anyway. The quality control of potions made through traditional druid methods is too difficult to guarantee."

The older druid did not quite understand the term "quality control," but he knew that the effects of the society's potions varied wildly. Their best batches were better than machine-produced ones, but just how bad their worst batches were depended entirely on the drinker's luck.

Otherwise, they would not have been forced into having virtually no room to survive by the potion factories.

"Then what do you need us to do?"

"You will be responsible for high-end products. In other words, I want you to make the most expensive potions."

The druids could not make sense of it. Their potions were already unpopular because they were expensive, and now they were supposed to make the most expensive ones?

Aisha continued, "The potion factory will provide you with concentrated active ingredients. You will add them to your traditional potions in certain proportions. Does your society have any distinctive features you can promote?"

"Uh, could you explain in more detail?" The druids could not follow her train of thought at all. City folk were already strange enough, but this person was even stranger.

"Something unique to your society, something other societies do not have. It should sound impressive, preferably with some legendary background."

"Well, there is Wang Pond. When the God of Nature walked the world, he once lived by its waters."

"Good, we'll use that. The potions will be said to come from a pond blessed by the God. The slogan will be: 'We do not produce potions. We are merely porters for the God of Nature.'"

"But that pond water has no special effects."

"It doesn't need any. People only need to think it has effects. Remember to divide the water into several quality grades. The water from the source will be the highest grade, and you will only produce a hundred bottles per month. Make sure it stays scarce. One bottle must cost at least three gold coins."

"What? Would anyone buy something that expensive?" The druids were horrified by the price. Previously, even their best healing potion cost less than fifty silver coins per bottle, while low-quality ones could be bought for a few dozen copper coins.

"They won't, which is why we need to tell the story well. Artists and craftsmen will come to find you later. Design a batch of bottles with druid characteristics, and bring all the legends recorded by your society. Dedicated staff will polish the stories."

Over the next two hours, Aisha laid out a long list of marketing plans, giving the druids a small but profound shock from unscrupulous merchants.

By the time the druids of the Spore Society left that evening, they had fallen into deep self-doubt.

"Did we just become involved in something evil? Even the most cunning devil could not be worse than this."

The young druid spoke in a daze.

"Yes... but perhaps not," the older druid replied hesitantly. "It is a little unscrupulous, but they seem to... not cheat poor people."

Meanwhile, in the office, Aisha asked Drogo in confusion, "If you are developing such expensive potions to make money, why are you lowering the price of ordinary potions?"

Drogo picked up his wineglass. The dark red liquid inside was bubbling furiously. It was healing potion infused with carbon dioxide, mixed with sugar, and filled with ice.

"The official answer is that we seize the market through low prices. Once we gain an advantage, we establish our own raw material supply chain and transportation routes, lowering costs. Then other potion factories that enter later will be unable to compete because their costs are too high."

"And the unofficial answer?"

"The people who need healing potions most are workers, farmers, the lowest-ranking adventurers, and those who get hurt but cannot afford to see doctors or priests, so they have to endure it on their own. I want to make healing potions they can afford."

"Then which one is your answer?" Aisha looked at Drogo curiously, but no expression could be read from his dragon face.

Drogo raised the glass and drained it in one gulp. It was not a perfect recreation, but the icy drink with its prickling bubbles still brought back memories of the past.

Ice-cold cola really was delicious.

Looking out at the setting sun, Drogo smiled and answered, "You tell me. Maybe it's both."