Chapter 16: Weeds, Warnings and Unexpected Visit
It started with a weed. Just one.
Eren bent down, tugged the little green bastard from the base of his radish bed, and flicked it over his shoulder. It landed with a soft plop on the compost pile—now moved outside the kitchen, thank the gods—and he wiped his hand on his pants like a man who'd just finished surgery.
"You think it's quiet," he muttered, standing back up. "Then they strike. A full mutiny of root-snatchers."
Lira stood nearby with a clipboard in hand—because of course she had one now—and a visor over her eyes. The visor clicked faintly as she scanned rows of soil.
"Hostile flora probability: 0.7% and decreasing," she announced, deadpan. "Your weed extermination protocol is... sufficient."
Eren looked sideways at her. "That sounded almost like a compliment."
"I am improving my sarcasm subroutines."
"Nice."
The sun was already up, painting the land in soft morning gold. His crops were showing off—thick, healthy, eager to be eaten or sold. Lettuce so green it looked fake, tomatoes plump enough to make a harpy blush, and herbs giving off scents that made even Lira's synthetic nose twitch.
He squinted at his rows of produce like a man preparing for war.
"Alright," he said. "We've got twelve days until the competition. Let's talk strategy."