The morning sun had barely risen when Rian opened his battered notebook. He sat at the small dining table, a cup of cheap coffee beside him and a calculator in his hand. Across from him, Jojo was eating breakfast. Not ordinary cat food. Salmon. A small piece of grilled salmon sat neatly on a ceramic plate. Jojo chewed slowly. Very slowly. Almost theatrically. Rian stared at him. “You're enjoying that way too much.” Jojo swallowed. “An employee deserves proper compensation.” “You're not an employee.” “Then what am I?” “My business partner.” Jojo's ears perked up. “Excellent. Then I deserve a larger share.” Rian immediately regretted his choice of words. “No.” Jojo resumed eating. “A wise business owner knows the value of his partners.” “A wise business owner also knows when his partner is extorting him with emotional manipulation.” Jojo licked his paw. “Semantics.” Rian sighed and turned back to his notebook. The jokes disappeared from his face. It was time to calculate. He had been so busy growing vegetables and selling them that he hadn't properly counted how much money they had actually made. He flipped through the pages. The first small batch of lettuce had earned him around Rp350,000. The second market trip had brought in roughly Rp780,000. After that, orders from several neighbors had added another Rp1.2 million. Mrs. Wijoyo's introductions had brought even more customers. Some wanted lettuce. Others wanted spinach, mustard greens, carrots, and chili. A few wealthy customers had even paid extra for specially selected produce. In total, Rian calculated that their vegetable sales had brought in approximately: Rp2,330,000. Rian stared at the number. He slowly leaned back. “Two million three hundred thirty thousand…” Jojo looked up from his salmon. “Correct.” “That sounds like a lot.” “It is more than zero.” Rian glared at him. “Thanks for the insight.” “You're welcome.” Rian continued calculating. But the number on the page wasn't pure profit. There were expenses. Seeds. Water. Electricity. Transportation. Market stall rental. Packaging. Plastic bags. A few tools. And, most importantly, food. After subtracting everything, Rian estimated that he had around Rp1.7 million left. It wasn't a fortune. But for someone who had recently struggled to pay his electricity bill, it felt enormous. He opened his banking application. The balance looked almost unreal. For the first time in years, he wasn't counting down to payday. He wasn't wondering whether he could afford rice. He wasn't calculating which bill could be delayed. He wasn't staring at an empty refrigerator. He had money. Not enough to become careless. But enough to breathe. Rian smiled. “We're actually making money.” Jojo nodded. “Technically, yes.” “Technically?” “Your business is still too small.” Rian's smile faded slightly. Jojo pointed toward the backyard. “Look.” Rian followed his gaze. The backyard was overflowing with plants. Lettuce occupied almost every usable patch of soil. Spinach grew between pots. Chili plants crowded the fence. Tomato vines climbed improvised wooden supports. The garden looked less like a backyard and more like a miniature farm. And there was a problem. They were running out of space. Rian slowly stood. He walked outside. The morning air was cool. Leaves rustled gently in the breeze. He looked around. The garden was beautiful. But it was tiny. Very tiny. He could produce enough vegetables to sell at a market. But he couldn't produce enough to fulfill the growing number of orders. He had already turned down three customers the previous day. Not because they didn't want his vegetables. Because he didn't have enough. Rian frowned. “Jojo.” “Yes?” “We need land.” Jojo nodded. “Finally.” “You already thought about this?” “Obviously.” “Then why didn't you tell me?” “You were busy arguing with me about salmon.” Rian rubbed his forehead. “Fair.” --- That afternoon, Rian began searching for land. He didn't need anything luxurious. He wasn't looking for a huge farm. Not yet. He needed something affordable. Something close enough to transport vegetables to the market. Something with access to water. And most importantly, somewhere he could work without attracting too much attention. Rian spent hours scrolling through property listings. Most of the land was too expensive. Some were too far away. Others had poor access roads. One plot looked promising, but the owner wanted a price far beyond Rian's current savings. Rian sighed. “At this rate, we'll need to sell vegetables for ten years.” Jojo sat beside him. “Or improve the business.” Rian looked at him. “How?” “Higher yield.” “Meaning?” “Better crops.” Rian's eyes narrowed. The serum. Of course. He could increase production dramatically. But that created another problem. The serum supply. He couldn't use it recklessly. The antique trash can still produced the glowing liquid, but slowly. Every drop had value. If he used too much on vegetables, he might not have enough for other needs. Rian stared at the glowing container in the corner of the room. The liquid level had risen slightly since the previous night. Not much. But it was recovering. He needed a balance. He needed to grow enough to make money while keeping enough serum in reserve. “Slow and steady,” Rian murmured. Jojo nodded. “A surprisingly mature statement.” “Don't sound so surprised.” “I am a cat. I expect disappointment from humans.” “I'm going to stop buying you salmon.” Jojo immediately became serious. “Your maturity has limits.” --- Three days later, Rian found something. A small plot of unused land on the outskirts of Semarang. It wasn't beautiful. The soil was rough. There were weeds everywhere. A few abandoned structures stood near the edge. But the land was relatively flat. There was a narrow irrigation canal nearby. The road was accessible by motorcycle. And, most importantly, the owner wasn't asking for an outrageous price. The monthly rent was Rp600,000. Rian stared at the listing. “Six hundred thousand…” He calculated. If he rented it for six months, that would be Rp3.6 million. He didn't have that much. Not comfortably. He would have almost nothing left for emergencies. Rian frowned. Jojo climbed onto the table. “How much do we have?” “About Rp1.7 million after expenses.” “And the land?” “Six hundred thousand per month.” “Then don't pay six months.” Rian blinked. “What?” “Negotiate.” Rian stared at him. “You think they'll agree?” “Humans enjoy negotiating.” “Where did you learn that?” Jojo looked offended. “I watch television.” “You watch cooking shows.” “Negotiation is everywhere.” Rian laughed. But he decided to try. --- The next morning, Rian visited the property. The owner was an older man named Pak Harun. He looked at Rian suspiciously when he heard the proposal. “You want to rent this land for farming?” “Yes.” “What are you growing?” “Vegetables.” Pak Harun looked around. “You alone?” “Yes.” His eyes moved over Rian's muscular frame. “You look more like a gym trainer than a farmer.” Rian laughed awkwardly. “I used to be very thin.” Pak Harun chuckled. “Well, farming will make you thinner.” Rian smiled. “I hope not.” They walked around the property. The land wasn't perfect. But Rian could see its potential. He imagined rows of lettuce. Tomatoes. Chili. Spinach. A small greenhouse. Maybe even a storage shed. His heart began beating faster. This could work. He just needed the chance. “I can pay six hundred thousand for the first month,” Rian said. Pak Harun scratched his chin. “And after that?” “If my sales go well, I'll continue.” “You're confident.” “I have to be.” Pak Harun studied him for a long moment. Then he nodded. “Three months first.” Rian's eyes widened. “Three months?” “Pay monthly.” Rian calculated quickly. That was manageable. Not comfortable. But manageable. “Deal.” They shook hands. Rian felt something inside his chest loosen. He had rented his first piece of farmland. It wasn't much. Just a small plot of land. But to Rian, it felt enormous. --- On the way home, Rian stopped beside the road. He looked at the sky. Three months. He had three months to prove himself. If he could make enough money, he could keep renting. If the business grew, he could expand. Maybe someday he could buy land instead of renting it. Maybe he could build a real farm. A greenhouse. Workers. Delivery vehicles. A proper brand. He smiled. Then Jojo's voice came from the motorcycle basket. “Don't forget the salmon.” Rian nearly swerved. “Why are you talking about salmon now?” “Because you promised.” “I know.” “You're easily distracted by ambition.” “You're easily distracted by fish.” “Fish is an important component of morale.” Rian laughed. “You're ridiculous.” “And yet, you need me.” “Unfortunately.” Jojo smiled. At least, Rian thought he did. --- That evening, Rian began preparing the new land. He didn't immediately use the serum. Instead, he wanted to prepare the soil first. He cleared weeds. Removed stones. Marked planting rows. Checked the irrigation canal. He even tested different sections of soil. Jojo watched from the shade of a tree. “You're becoming a proper farmer.” Rian wiped sweat from his forehead. “Don't say it like it's an insult.” “It isn't.” Rian looked across the land. For the first time, he felt that he was building something. Not a temporary hustle. Not a desperate attempt to pay a bill. Something real. Something that could last. But there was one thing he still hadn't solved. The serum. He needed more organic waste. Much more. The amount generated from his own household was nowhere near enough. If the farm expanded, the demand for serum would increase. That meant he needed a reliable source of organic material. And that brought him back to the market. Food stalls. Restaurants. Vegetable vendors. Fruit sellers. Everywhere people threw away organic waste. What if he could collect it? Better yet... What if they paid him to take it away? Rian's eyes widened. “Jojo.” “Yes?” “I think I found another business.” Jojo raised an eyebrow. “Continue.” “We collect food waste from restaurants and market vendors.” Jojo stared at him. “And?” “They get rid of their waste for free.” “Yes.” “We take it away.” “Yes.” “And we get free raw material for the serum.” Jojo's eyes gleamed. “Now you're thinking like an entrepreneur.” Rian grinned. “We're going to turn garbage into vegetables.” “Raw material.” “Right.” “Say it correctly.” “Raw material.” “Good.” --- The following week, Rian started approaching food vendors. At first, they were confused. “You want our vegetable scraps?” “Yes.” “Why?” “For compost.” That was the simplest explanation Rian could think of. Some vendors laughed. Others didn't care. A few were actually relieved. “If you're willing to take it away, take as much as you want.” Rian happily accepted. Soon, he had agreements with several small warungs and two vegetable sellers. Every evening, he collected their discarded vegetable scraps. Wilted greens. Fruit peels. Bruised vegetables. Coffee grounds. Everything organic. He brought them home. The antique trash can processed them. And the glowing serum slowly returned. The cycle had begun. --- But while Rian was busy building his new farm, someone else was becoming increasingly interested in him. The young man who had bought his lettuce. His name was Ardi. He worked at a small grocery store near the market. For several days, he had been comparing Rian's vegetables with ordinary produce. The difference was undeniable. The lettuce stayed fresh far longer. The leaves were unusually crisp. The vegetables had almost no blemishes. And the growth rate... That was what bothered him most. Ardi had once worked on a small farm with his uncle. He knew how long vegetables took to grow. Rian's products didn't make sense. One evening, Ardi stood outside the market and watched Rian load vegetables onto his motorcycle. He noticed something. Rian wasn't carrying many vegetables. Yet every few days, he returned with another large batch. Where were they coming from? Ardi quietly followed him. Not closely. Just enough to see which direction he went. Rian turned toward the outskirts of the city. Ardi stopped. His eyes narrowed. “So that's where you're growing them.” He looked at the road ahead. “What's your secret, Rian?” --- That night, Rian returned home exhausted. He placed his earnings on the table. Another day's sales. Rp420,000. He added it to his notebook. His total revenue was steadily climbing. The numbers were no longer small. They weren't enough to make him rich. But they were enough to make him believe. He looked at his notebook. Total vegetable revenue so far: Rp2,750,000. After expenses, rent, seeds, transportation, and household costs, he estimated he had around Rp1.9 million in usable savings. And now he had farmland. His first real investment. Rian leaned back. “Not bad.” Jojo jumped onto the table. “Acceptable.” Rian smiled. “Next month, we'll double it.” “Ambitious.” “Then triple it.” “Reckless.” “Then—” “Salmon.” Rian sighed. “Yes, yes. Salmon.” Jojo settled down beside the notebook. Outside, the night was quiet. The tiny house was no longer the prison it had once been. It was becoming the headquarters of something new. Something strange. Something impossible. A business built from discarded food, magical liquid, and one desperately ambitious young man. But Rian didn't know that the moment he decided to expand his farm... he had also expanded the number of people who might discover his secret. And somewhere in the darkness outside his house, Ardi watched the faint green light leaking through the curtains. His eyes narrowed. “What exactly are you growing in there?”

CHAPTER 7 — A SMALL FARM, A BIGGER DREAM