By the time Rian returned home, the excitement of the day had finally begun to fade. He placed his shopping bags on the living-room floor one by one, arranging everything he had bought as though he were taking inventory of a small store. The expensive golden-yellow stone ring sat safely inside its little box, while Jojo's enormous tuna occupied the refrigerator like an oversized piece of furniture. Rian stared at the mountain of purchases and slowly rubbed his face. “Twenty-five million rupiah,” he muttered. “Gone. Just like that.” He had been feeling wealthy only a few hours ago. Now, after one ring and one ridiculously expensive tuna, he felt poor again. Jojo sat beside the refrigerator, licking his paw with absolutely no sign of remorse. His green eyes shifted toward Rian, then toward the tuna. “An investment in quality,” Jojo said calmly. Rian stared at him. “You're the one who spent ten million on a fish.” Jojo paused mid-lick. “And you spent fifteen million on a rock.” Rian opened his mouth, then closed it. He couldn't argue with that. After putting away the rest of his purchases, Rian finally collapsed onto the sofa. The day's events replayed in his mind—the strange ring, the old man he had secretly helped, the enormous tuna, and, most importantly, the miracle liquid that had made all of it possible. His expression slowly became serious. There was something he could no longer ignore. The serum was incredibly useful. It could improve the quality of soil, accelerate the growth of plants, and enhance the physical condition of living creatures. Even more frighteningly, the diluted serum seemed capable of healing illnesses that ordinary medicine struggled to treat. Rian leaned back and stared at the ceiling. “If this stuff can do all that…” he murmured, “then I need to make sure we never run out.” The thought immediately brought him back to reality. He got up and walked toward the antique trash can. The glowing green liquid inside was noticeably lower than before. It wasn't because they lacked organic waste. Rian had already established a steady supply through the village and his farming operation. The real problem was processing time. The trash can simply couldn't produce the serum quickly enough. Even with plenty of material inside, it only produced around four or five drops a day. “At this rate, we're going to run out eventually,” Rian said quietly. Jojo jumped onto the nearby table and peered into the container. “Then perhaps we should stop behaving like greedy merchants who discovered an infinite treasure chest.” Rian glanced at him. “We need it, Jojo.” “I know.” For once, Jojo's voice carried no sarcasm. Rian sighed and reached for the lid. He intended only to check the liquid level. But as he lifted the lid, something strange happened. The golden-yellow ring he had bought earlier slipped from the edge of the table. “Whoa—!” Rian instinctively reached for it. Too late. The ring bounced once against the floor before rolling directly toward the trash can. Rian hurried after it, but the ring struck the metal edge of the container. FWOOM. A strange light suddenly burst from the antique trash can. Rian froze. The ring disappeared. “What...?” He stared at the container in disbelief. The ring was gone. Not underneath it. Not beside it. Gone. The antique trash can began to tremble softly. Ancient patterns that had previously been almost invisible beneath layers of grime started glowing faintly across its surface. Rian slowly crouched down. The patterns resembled leaves. Not ordinary leaves, either. They were intricate, ancient symbols carved directly into the metal. “Jojo…” “I see it.” The cat jumped down from the table and approached cautiously. The glowing gradually faded, leaving the carvings slightly clearer than before. Rian touched one of the patterns with his fingertip. “So it absorbed the ring?” Jojo sniffed the surface. “Apparently.” Rian looked at the empty space where the ring had been. “That was fifteen million rupiah.” Jojo looked at him. “Would you prefer to complain about the loss or investigate the upgrade?” Rian's face immediately brightened. “Upgrade.” He turned back toward the trash can with renewed interest. If his theory was correct, the ring hadn't simply disappeared. It had been consumed. And something inside the ancient container had changed. Rian checked the liquid level again. The glow seemed slightly stronger. “Maybe it'll produce more now.” “How much more?” Jojo asked. Rian thought for a moment. “Maybe seven or eight drops a day?” Jojo's ears twitched. “A modest improvement.” “Modest?” Rian's eyes widened. “That's almost twice as much!” “Your standards have become suspiciously low.” Rian ignored the comment. His mind had already shifted toward another problem. More serum meant more possibilities. More possibilities meant more money. He glanced at his empty wallet. “Unfortunately, I just spent twenty-five million today.” Jojo's tail flicked. “You did.” “So I need another source of income.” “You already have a farm.” “Something more profitable.” Jojo stared at him for several seconds. “You really are becoming a goblin.” Rian frowned. “What?” “A creature that sees money and immediately asks where the next pile is.” Rian considered the accusation. Then he shrugged. “Sounds productive.” Jojo sighed. Rian pulled out his notebook and began writing. He didn't want to rent another enormous piece of land. Three hectares were already demanding enough attention, even with twenty workers helping him. He needed something that could be raised with limited space but still command a premium price. His eyes moved across the pages. Vegetables. Fruit. Herbs. Then he remembered the tuna sitting in his refrigerator. “Fish.” Jojo's ears immediately perked up. At last, the cat had found something worth discussing. “Tuna,” Jojo declared. Rian slowly turned his head. “No.” “But—” “Tuna are marine fish.” “I am aware.” “We don't have the sea in our backyard.” Jojo's expression remained completely serious. “Then create one.” Rian stared at him. “Jojo, I'm not building the Pacific Ocean.” The cat looked mildly disappointed. Rian began thinking again. If fish were an option, he didn't need tuna. He needed something easier. Something commonly raised in Indonesia. Something that could survive in freshwater ponds. “Gurame.” Jojo tilted his head. “Gourami?” “Exactly.” Rian's eyes began to brighten as the idea took shape. Gourami were common, valuable, and relatively easy to raise. If the serum could improve their growth and quality the same way it improved plants, perhaps he could create premium-sized fish without needing another massive piece of land. He immediately imagined a tank filled with enormous gourami. Then another thought struck him. Rian's expression slowly changed. “Wait…” Jojo noticed immediately. “What now?” “If I give the serum to the gourami…” He looked toward the aquarium equipment he had recently bought. “…will they start talking?” Silence filled the room. Rian's imagination immediately produced an image of dozens of giant gourami staring at him. Good morning, human. He shuddered. “Nope.” Jojo's whiskers twitched. “You seem troubled.” “I don't want twenty talking fish asking me for money.” Jojo stared at him. “That is remarkably specific.” Rian shook his head violently. “Forget it. We'll use the diluted serum. Just enough to stimulate growth and improve their quality.” He grabbed his notebook again and wrote GOURAMI EXPERIMENT across a fresh page. “The serum doesn't need to turn everything into another you.” Jojo's tail stopped moving. “Another me?” “Yes. One talking cat is already more than enough.” Jojo looked offended. “I am not merely a talking cat.” “You're an expensive talking cat.” Jojo slowly narrowed his eyes. “And whose fault is it that my salary consists of premium salmon?” Rian froze. He suddenly remembered the ten-million-rupiah tuna sitting in the refrigerator. He looked at Jojo. Jojo looked back. For several seconds, neither of them spoke. Finally, Rian sighed. “Fine. Tomorrow we buy gourami.” Jojo's tail began swaying happily. “Excellent. And perhaps we should discuss the possibility of purchasing another tuna.” “Absolutely not.” Rian closed his notebook. “One expensive fish per vacation is enough.” Outside, the night settled quietly over the farm. Neither of them noticed the faint green glow that remained on the ancient carvings of the trash can. The first upgrade had happened almost by accident. And Rian had no idea what the next one might require.

Bab 19 — The Trash Can’s Secret