A day had passed.
Venzel stood in silence, the wind brushing past his cheeks as he gazed out over the vast stretch of farmland before him.
Their family land.
The very soil his parents had poured their years, sweat, and hopes into, tending, shaping, and protecting with quiet devotion.
The land they had always dreamed of passing down to him.
And now, finally, he had agreed to take care of it.
Not just as a son fulfilling a legacy but as a man ready to build something of his own upon it.
The wind was softer here, brushing past the tall grass like a whisper, carrying with it the scent of damp earth.
The sun hung lazily overhead, casting golden shadows over the vast expanse of unused soil stretching out before him.
He wondered how Kana was doing. The house felt quieter without her. She had gone back to her family for the time being.
They had agreed, quietly, mutually not to tell their parents about the marriage.
And Kana, with all the grace and wit she carried, would use her family's wealth of connections to quietly scout out potential buyers for the potatoes.
Discreet channels, private hands, lucrative margins. If anyone could turn this into gold, it was her.
Meanwhile, Venzel's role might have sounded simple on paper, just grow the crops.
But in truth, he had two jobs.
One: harvest potatoes and stuffs.
Two: harvest believable excuses.
Because sooner or later, someone was bound to ask the question—how?
How did supply suddenly skyrocket overnight?
How did he go from a humble farmer to someone who could flood an entire market with golden, perfect potatoes at a moment's notice?
And the one thing he couldn't do was tell the truth.
He couldn't expose the system.
He had no idea what kind of chaos that might unleash, but Kana had painted a rather vivid picture before they parted ways last night.
He could still hear her voice in his head, matter-of-fact and just a little too cheerful:
"Best-case scenario? They drag you off to some underground lab and dissect you. Part by part. Blood by blood. Cell by cell. And I definitely don't want that."
He'd gulped so hard he nearly swallowed his own tongue.
When he protested, Kana just laughed and added, "I'm kidding!"
But were you?! his brain screamed now, standing beside his father with the image of scalpels and sterile gloves haunting the edges of his thoughts.
"Who says something like that and expects me to sleep at night?!" he cried internally, throwing a dramatic tantrum in the confines of his own mind.
Venzel sighed, deeply and soulfully.
Nope. There was no way he could expose the system.
For now, he watched the land with a calm intensity, his gaze tracing the curves and dips of the untouched soil.
Beside him stood his father, Aoki. Towering, broad-shouldered, arms crossed as he surveyed their domain with a deep, quiet pride.
Venzel glanced up at him, amused.
If I saw my dad in the forest, I think I'd run. Hell, even a bear might come up to him, shake his hand, and ask what species of bear he was from.
The image hit too vividly, Venzel stifled a laugh, the corners of his mouth twitching. He giggled under his breath.
Aoki turned slightly, puzzled. "What's funny?"
Venzel straightened, waving it off. "Nothing, nothing. Just… thinking."
Aoki didn't press. His attention returned to the land, his voice warm and thoughtful.
"Son, what do you see first when you look at a place like this?"
Venzel took a moment. He closed his eyes, inhaling deeply, letting the scent of earth, grass, and faint dew fill his lungs.
For a second, he let his mind wander, to ambitions, to dreams far larger than the land could hold.
"I want to build a laboratory here," he said quietly, before realizing what he'd said.
The silence that followed made his eyes snap open.
His father was staring at him.
And not just any stare, the kind of stare that made Venzel instantly sweat, the kind that peeled back layers like a shovel through dirt.
Panic flared.
"Ahaha, I thought you were asking in a joking manner!" Venzel said quickly, backpedaling. "You know, father, this land… it's so rich, so fertile. How could I build random stuff over it?"
He forced a sheepish laugh, clapping his hands together. "Potatoes! I'll plant potatoes. Lots and lots of potatoes!"
Aoki nodded slowly, as if finally understanding. His features relaxed.
"Good boy," he said, turning back to the land. "Now listen closely, this land is huge. You need to know where our boundary ends and where our sneaky neighbors' noses begin. If you don't, one day someone's going to pretend they own a piece. And around here…" He laughed, voice low and conspiratorial. "Everyone's a snake."
Venzel grinned.
"Well, they won't dare try if they know there's a bear guarding the place."
That got a response.
Aoki's eyes narrowed. "What was that?"
"Nothing, nothing!" Venzel yelped, already taking a step back.
Too late.
With a sudden growl and a crack of his knuckles, Aoki lunged forward.
Venzel spun and ran, kicking up dust as he bolted down the slight hill, laughter echoing in his wake.
From the porch in the distance, a soft figure stepped into the sunlight.
Tsuki stepped onto the porch with a tray of chilled drinks balanced carefully in her hands.
Her expression was gentle, touched by the years, but still radiant with quiet joy.
Out in the field, her husband and son were chasing each other like a pair of mischievous boys on the first day of summer.
Dust kicked up in their wake, laughter rising into the breeze, careless and free.
Her smile deepened.
Hmm… I wonder how Kana is doing.
The thought brought with it a fresh warmth, curling in her chest. That girl's smile, so bright, so full of life it lingered in Tsuki's memory like sunlight through curtains.
Ahh, I want her to be my daughter-in-law already.
She sighed dramatically in her head. My son… you better start stepping up your game.
Just then, her phone buzzed in the pocket of her apron. She balanced the tray on the railing and pulled it out.
It was her sister, Soho.
Tsuki answered cheerfully. "Hello?"
But the sound that greeted her made her straighten instantly. It was soft at first, broken breathing, sniffles.
Then a choked voice came through the line.
"Sister… my son ran away from home… What should I do?"
The laughter in the field faded behind her as Tsuki stood still, tray forgotten, smile slowly slipping.