Lord of Rot

The turn of events was truly surreal.

A group of Northlander pirates had fallen in love with Porcupine Wine. So much so that not only did they stop their plundering, but they now wanted to protect Claude’s caravan.

Claude’s misfortune had turned into a blessing. With a group of local bodyguards, his trade route to the Northern Territory would be much safer in the future.

Leech said, "You’re quite lucky."

To go from a prisoner to the belle of the ball, Claude’s experience was certainly fantastical.

Claude’s smile vanished. He clutched his stomach and looked at Leech with a pained expression. "If I can’t get your Porcupine Wine, they’ll definitely kill me. For the sake of my worthless life, you must sell me enough Porcupine Wine."

’So that’s what he was waiting for.’ Leech found his gaze a little unbearable and felt uncomfortable.

"Otherwise, I’ll never dare set foot in the Northern Territory again."

"The brewing process for Porcupine Wine is very complex," Leech said. "Although I want to save your life, my friend, I can’t make any grand promises about keeping that whole horde of Northlanders satisfied. I can only say you won’t get any less than before."

"Hehe, of course," Claude said, bending over and clutching his stomach. "Thank you so much for saving my life, my Lord."

The current production of Porcupine Wine wasn’t particularly high. The brewing efficiency was affected by the temperature. However, they had still managed to accumulate a good amount of it recently, enough to meet the demands of Claude and Deni.

Incidentally, the Porcupine Wine was stored in earthenware jars.

Wooden barrels weren’t suitable for long-term storage of wine, and pottery was cheaper, lowering production costs. It just required digging up clay, finding people to shape the jars, and then firing them into pottery. Though they weren’t very beautiful, they were more than adequate for holding wine.

After getting Leech’s promise, Claude was ecstatic. His objective was accomplished.

He turned to look at Deni, intending to gloat, but Deni was calm. Deni hadn’t said much from the beginning, and now he remained composed even in the face of Claude’s provocation.

Something’s not right!

Claude felt that something was very wrong.

Why wasn’t Deni worried?

Or could it be... that Deni had truly reached some kind of secret deal with Baron Porcupine last night?

The more he thought about it, the more likely it seemed.

Claude had a rough idea of how much Porcupine Territory could produce. If Deni cut in, he would get even less.

If it came down to it, he would just have to raise his price. He would sacrifice a small part of his profits if it meant beating Deni.

Of course, the fine details of the business deal couldn’t be decided with just a few words with Leech. The two merchants followed Joe to leave. They would first inspect the goods, confirm the price, load up, and finally depart.

Pleasing the Lord was the most direct way to gain benefits, but Joe was the real opponent they had to face. Joe was responsible for the detailed pricing and the specifics of the transaction.

After Joe had negotiated the prices for everything, the list would be sent to the Lord. Only after the Lord gave his nod of approval would the deal be considered a success.

Having delegated all the messy, troublesome tasks to his subordinates, Leech was at leisure.

When he returned to the castle, he saw a carriage parked inside.

"What’s this?" Leech asked, watching the manservants unloading cargo.

The butler, Simon, who was directing the manservants, said, "My Lord, it’s some local specialties from the Southern Giant’s Foot, a gift from Mr. Deni."

"Specialties?"

"Yes, my Lord." It wasn’t Simon who spoke, but a young man standing by the carriage. He bowed respectfully and said, "I was tasked with bringing you a small gift from Mr. Deni. He knows you appreciate fine food, so he specially prepared these items. They couldn’t endure a rough journey, so they arrived more slowly than the main caravan."

Compared to Deni, Claude hadn’t brought any gifts. This was because Leech had asked him to help acquire some Alchemy Materials, and Claude hadn’t marked them up, offering a price that greatly satisfied Leech.

Both men were savvy businessmen.

This carriage full of fruits and vegetables wasn’t worth much money, but it was the thought that counted.

Leech walked closer for a look.

There were many fruits and vegetables he had never seen before, local crops from Lu Leiyi. After the long journey, the vegetables weren’t in great condition. The manservants and maids would dispose of the wilted ones.

There were also some seeds.

Leech nodded in satisfaction. After all, there was no cold chain in this world. Wanting to eat fresh vegetables from Burning City in Porcupine Territory was just a pipe dream—not even the King could manage it.

"Have the chefs see what delicacies they can make with these," Leech said.

After listening to Deni, he had indeed become interested in Iron Valley. This was a good chance to have the chefs study the southern fruits and vegetables, so he wouldn’t be completely clueless when looking at unfamiliar produce if he traveled south in the future.

A barren place like Iron Valley, with an environment even harsher than Porcupine Territory’s, would only be seen as a prize by minor nobles without their own land. Any normal noble with a fief would keep their distance.

But an Iron Valley with oil? Its value would skyrocket.

Even if Porcupine Territory’s technology tree wasn’t advanced enough to exploit most uses of oil, it wouldn’t be a problem for scholars to work with alchemy and figure out its most basic applications.

’Right, I still need to pay Scholar Toma a visit.’

Leech really hoped Scholar Toma could continue his research into Space Magic, as long as it wasn’t so useless... okay, that was a pretty high bar.

He waved his hand, letting the manservants continue their work.

"Heh!" With a grunt, Duckfoot hoisted a sack onto his shoulder and started toward the kitchen with clumsy steps.

There were a few small holes in the sack, and several grains of food squeezed out.

Leech suddenly said, "Wait!"

"Yes, my Lord." Duckfoot stopped immediately, not understanding what was happening.

"Put the sack down," Leech said. "Let’s see what’s inside."

"Yes, sir!"

Duckfoot obediently untied the hemp rope binding the sack.

Pearly white, it was all white grain.

Rice!

Leech reached in and grabbed a handful. Some of the rice flowed like sand through his fingers, falling back into the sack.

"Finally, an upgrade to my diet," Leech said with a smile.

He was getting sick of eating bread every day.

Leech looked at the young man standing guard by the carriage. The young man said, "This is a type of ’vegetable’ from Burning City. It has very high environmental requirements and is difficult to grow."

"’Vegetable’?"

"Yes, my Lord," the young man nodded. "The boss is very fond of the risotto-style dishes and desserts made from this rice."

Leech grabbed another handful of rice and stared at it. ’This is definitely rice, no doubt about it.’

"Can you explain in more detail?" Leech asked. "The way you eat it, I mean."

"Yes, my Lord!"

The young man nodded. "After this rice is cooked in water, you can pour it over a dish to let each grain soak up the sauce. The chewy grains are what make the risotto-style dish."

’So, soup over rice,’ Leech understood. ’And it’s still undercooked.’

Properly cooked rice wouldn’t be chewy.

"And the dessert?" Leech asked.

"It’s also cooked," the young man explained. "Then it’s mixed with sugar and honey. You can also add a little milk."

Seeing the Baron was very interested, the young man continued, "It can also be made into a vegetable salad."

"Alright," Leech quickly stopped him.

He respected people’s freedom to eat how they pleased—as long as the food ended up in their stomachs and wasn’t wasted, it was fine. However, their way of eating it was clearly not for him.

Rice, of course, was meant to be a staple food.

And there was good news: rice existed in this world. The bad news was that rice was hard to come by in the Eastern Gorges, and it wasn’t a high-yield crop even in the Southern Giant’s Foot, so it couldn’t be a staple.

But none of that mattered now.

He thought to himself, ’I think I’ll have some rice today. I have to pair it with a heavy, oily, and spicy dish.’

When Oakpan and the other chefs received the bag of rice, they were bewildered.

It looked a bit like wheat, but it was also completely different. What kind of dish were they supposed to make with it?

But Baron Leech, the foodie, couldn’t help himself. Worried the chefs wouldn’t know what to do and would waste the grain, he went to the kitchen himself.

He said, "This rice can be used to make congee, similar to oatmeal porridge. You cook it until every grain breaks down. It doesn’t need any seasoning; plain congee is the most delicious."

"But we’re not having plain congee tonight," Leech said, pointing at the rice. "First, take some out and wash it with water. Remember not to wash it too many times."

"Steam it in bowls. Put a little rice in each bowl, then add some water, just like steaming buns."

Leech wasn’t sure if Gelan and Fast-Blade could eat rice, so it was best not to waste any.

Besides, rice steamed in bowls has a better texture than rice boiled in a pot.

Having arranged dinner, Leech was in a great mood.

The chefs were left busy in the kitchen, trying to make the "rice" their Lord had specifically requested.

The process wasn’t complicated, which made Oakpan and the others breathe a sigh of relief. Seeing how much importance the Lord placed on it, they had thought rice was a very difficult food to prepare.

Dinner.

Leech looked at the rice that was served and couldn’t help but sigh inwardly. ’To think I’d be so moved I’d tear up just from getting to eat rice.’

In an Otherworld where the food didn’t suit his palate, it was just too difficult to find familiar tastes.

He held the bowl in his left hand and picked up food with chopsticks in his right. He felt this meal was more satisfying than any he had eaten before.

Seeing how heartily Leech was eating, Fast-Blade, who was beside him, also picked up a bowl of rice.

But as he ate, his expression soured. A wave of acid rose from his stomach. He couldn’t get used to this bland, dry food.

Hearty mouthfuls of meat were still more his style.

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