The next two months became the busiest period of Rian’s life.
Every morning began before sunrise. Rian and Jojo worked together in the fields, checking the irrigation, preparing the soil, planting seeds, applying carefully measured doses of the magical serum, and harvesting the crops. There were no workers, no assistants, and no hired farmhands. Every task, no matter how exhausting, fell on Rian’s shoulders.
The work had changed him.
His skin had grown noticeably darker from spending nearly every day beneath the harsh Semarang sun. His hands were rougher, his palms covered with calluses, and his clothes were almost permanently stained with soil.
Yet Rian's body could handle the workload far better than it should have.
Every Sunday, without fail, he consumed a tiny amount of the magical serum.
The effect was subtle compared to his first transformation, but over time, his stamina, strength, and recovery had improved far beyond those of an ordinary person. Hours of digging that would have left another farmer exhausted only left Rian tired enough to complain.
Jojo considered this a reasonable development.
“You're becoming unusually durable, human.”
Rian wiped sweat from his forehead and glanced at the cat.
“I'm not durable. I'm just too broke to stop working.”
Jojo's whiskers twitched.
“An economically motivated superhuman. How inspiring.”
Rian laughed despite his exhaustion and returned to work.
---
Transportation was another problem.
Since the farm was too far from his house to carry large harvests by hand, Rian had been relying on a three-wheeled motor cart owned by his neighbor, Pak Slamet.
Whenever harvest day arrived, Rian would knock on Pak Slamet's door.
“Pak, could I borrow the motor cart again?”
Pak Slamet would usually look at him, then at the number of crates waiting outside.
“Again?”
Rian would smile sheepishly.
“I'll pay for the rental.”
“You'd better. At this rate, you're using my vehicle more than I do.”
The arrangement became a regular expense in Rian's notebook.
Transportation — rental from Pak Slamet.
It wasn't cheap, especially as the volume of his harvest increased, but it was still far more affordable than buying a vehicle of his own.
Rian carefully recorded every payment.
He had learned something important during the past few months.
Making money was easy compared with keeping it.
---
The contract with Pak Agus remained the backbone of his business.
Originally, Ria Jaya Market had agreed to purchase twenty kilograms of each vegetable every week. After the first shipment disappeared from the shelves almost immediately, however, Pak Agus had demanded three times the amount.
Rian had negotiated for two months to prepare for the increase.
His original plot simply wasn't large enough.
He had planted as efficiently as possible, experimented with different serum dilutions, and carefully selected crops that provided the best balance between growth speed, quality, and serum consumption.
The Kaisar Chili remained his most profitable crop.
The peppers were large, glossy, intensely aromatic, and painfully spicy. The carrots were thick and naturally sweet. Tomatoes grew into heavy, perfectly shaped fruits with rich flavor, while leafy vegetables remained crisp and fresh long after harvest.
But producing enough of them was becoming increasingly difficult.
One evening, Rian sat at his kitchen table surrounded by receipts, notebooks, and stacks of money.
He began calculating.
His sales to Pak Agus had brought in roughly Rp60 million per week at the premium prices they had agreed upon.
Eight weeks of sales meant approximately Rp480 million in revenue.
Rian stared at the number.
“Four hundred and eighty million…”
His voice trembled slightly.
He had never imagined seeing that amount of money connected to his name.
Jojo sat beside the notebook and slowly licked his paw.
“Revenue,” the cat reminded him. “Not profit.”
Rian's smile disappeared.
“Right.”
He began subtracting everything.
Seeds.
Packaging.
Irrigation equipment.
Transportation.
The repeated rental payments to Pak Slamet.
Electricity.
Fuel.
Market fees.
Small repairs.
Food.
And the countless other expenses that appeared whenever a small business began to grow.
After everything was calculated, Rian estimated that he had around Rp300 million that could realistically be invested into expansion.
It was still an enormous amount of money.
But Rian knew exactly where it needed to go.
Land.
---
The following morning, Rian began asking farmers around the outskirts of Semarang about available agricultural land.
Most conversations went nowhere.
Some landowners wanted prices he couldn't afford. Others didn't want to rent to someone so young. A few became suspicious when they heard about his unusually successful vegetables.
Rian always gave them the same explanation.
“I'm just using a cultivation method I've been developing for a while.”
Jojo, whenever he heard that answer, would usually stare at Rian with an expression that seemed to say technically true, but dangerously incomplete.
After several days of searching, an elderly farmer named Pak Harun finally showed Rian a large piece of unused farmland.
Rian stopped at the edge of the property.
Three hectares.
The land stretched far beyond anything he had ever managed before. The soil was somewhat dry in places, but it was workable, and the location was close enough to the roads for transportation.
Rian crouched and scooped a handful of soil into his palm.
He let it slowly fall between his fingers.
“This is perfect.”
Pak Harun smiled.
“Most young people don't want land this large. Too much work.”
Rian looked across the empty field.
He remembered his tiny backyard.
That little patch of soil had produced his first giant lettuce.
That lettuce had led to his first sales.
Those sales had led to the market.
The market had led to Pak Agus.
And now...
Three hectares.
“I think I've gotten used to too much work,” Rian replied.
Pak Harun laughed.
After several rounds of negotiation, they reached an agreement.
Rp30 million per year for ten years.
The total commitment was Rp300 million.
Rian went quiet when he heard the final number.
Almost everything he had saved would disappear.
Jojo sat beside him, staring at the contract.
“You realize that after this transaction, we will once again be relatively poor.”
Rian looked at the cat.
Then he looked at the enormous field.
A grin slowly spread across his face.
“Poor with three hectares.”
Jojo's ears twitched.
“An interesting interpretation of financial ruin.”
Rian laughed.
For the first time, however, he wasn't afraid of spending nearly everything he had.
He wasn't buying luxury.
He wasn't trying to look rich.
He was buying the foundation of something much bigger.
---
Before moving his operation, Rian contacted several chefs and restaurant managers who had previously approached him.
He explained his situation honestly.
“I can't accept large orders yet,” he told them. “My farm is still too small.”
There was disappointment on the other end of several calls, but Rian refused to overpromise.
He had learned from his experience with Pak Agus.
If he accepted more orders than he could fulfill, his reputation would collapse.
“Give me two months,” Rian told one of the chefs. “Once the new farm is ready, I'll start accepting restaurant orders.”
The chef agreed.
That conversation left Rian feeling strangely satisfied.
Restaurants and hotels could wait.
For now, Pak Agus was enough.
He needed to build his supply first.
---
The move began immediately.
Rian transferred his seeds, tools, irrigation equipment, crates, and carefully guarded serum supplies to the new property.
Pak Slamet's three-wheeled motor cart made countless trips between the old farm, Rian's house, and the new land.
Each trip went into Rian's notebook as another expense.
By the end of the week, the new farm had begun to take shape.
Rian stood in the middle of the three-hectare field beneath the afternoon sun.
The scale of it made him dizzy.
His old backyard could barely fit a few rows of vegetables.
This place could hold thousands of plants.
Maybe tens of thousands.
Rian turned toward Jojo.
“So…”
Jojo sat comfortably on a wooden crate, grooming himself.
“So?”
“How are we going to manage all of this?”
Jojo paused.
Then he looked across the enormous field.
“I was hoping you had a plan.”
Rian stared at him.
“You're the strategist!”
“I am a cat.”
“You talk!”
“That does not automatically qualify me as an agricultural engineer.”
Rian covered his face with both hands.
For several seconds, neither of them spoke.
Then Jojo's ears perked up.
“However…”
Rian lowered his hands.
“What?”
“We will eventually need workers.”
Rian looked across the empty field again.
Workers meant salaries.
More expenses.
And, more importantly, more people who might see something they weren't supposed to see.
His excitement became mixed with caution.
Jojo's expression turned unusually serious.
“The larger this farm becomes, Rian, the harder our secret will be to protect.”
Rian's smile faded.
He knew the cat was right.
The larger the farm became, the more people would see it.
The more vegetables they produced, the more questions would follow.
And there was still another problem.
Someone had been watching them.
The mysterious figure near their old farm had never been identified.
Rian had hoped that person had simply been a curious passerby.
But deep down, he knew better.
That night, after everything had been moved, Rian walked along the edge of his new property.
The field was quiet beneath the moonlight.
Three hectares of land stretched before him.
It was everything he had dreamed of.
Yet he couldn't shake the strange feeling crawling across his skin.
Someone was watching.
Rian slowly turned toward the distant road.
Nothing.
Only darkness.
He narrowed his eyes.
“Jojo?”
The orange cat appeared behind him, ears raised.
“I know.”
Rian swallowed.
For a moment, neither of them moved.
Then Jojo's deep voice broke the silence.
“Welcome to the next stage of our little empire.”
Rian looked back at the enormous field.
His heart beat faster.
The small backyard was gone.
The real farm had finally begun.