“Ugh…”
I was nestled in Maru’s arms. Maru was squeezing out sunscreen and applying it to my face.
She mainly applied the sunscreen to my soft cheeks. My cheeks were squished and reshaped in Maru’s hands like sticky rice cakes. Maybe because they were still the cheeks of a young child, they had a bouncy texture. I also occasionally poked my own cheeks when I was alone.
I struggled to escape Maru’s embrace, but with this little body, breaking free was a distant dream. The sheer size difference between an adult and a child made it impossible.
“Phew!”
Finally, after she finished applying the sunscreen, I managed to wriggle out of her arms. I made a pouty face. Applying sunscreen always felt weird. And now, I looked like a white ghost had appeared. My skin was already pale, but the sunscreen made it even whiter. It looked like I had smeared BB cream to the extreme.
I ran away from Maru. If I stayed any longer, I didn’t know what she might do to me. In the greenhouse, I started tending to the crops. There wasn’t much for me to do. The crops I grew killed weeds on their own. Like some kind of pine tree that kills surrounding plants, the plants I grew had a similar trait.
So, I didn’t have to do tedious tasks like weeding, which was a good thing for me. It meant less hassle.
I grabbed a watering can and diligently watered the plants. I didn’t forget to dip my hair into the watering can. I moved around, busily watering the plants. Watering them once a week was enough for them to grow well on their own. I wasn’t sure if that was normal, but the plants I grew were as tenacious as cacti from the desert.
If I moved them to Africa, I wondered if they’d turn into a forest like the Amazon in Brazil within a few decades. They were the kind of plants that could thrive even in the Sahara Desert.
—
Maru was watching Hana work hard on her “farming.” It was debatable whether what Hana was doing could even be called farming.
If other farmers saw Hana farming like this, they’d probably widen their eyes and say, “That’s not farming!” Farming is the result of farmers’ blood and sweat, but Hana’s crops looked more like houseplants. In other words, it didn’t seem like much effort went into her farming.
Even to Maru, what Hana was doing looked more like playing house. Hana’s abilities were probably just that overpowered. With the climate crisis worsening, if someone could research and replicate the power in Hana’s hair, they’d easily win a Nobel Prize.
It wasn’t just the plants that grew from Hana’s teeth that were amazing. Plants that grew from water infused with Hana’s hair were also incredible.
They had insane resistance to pests, and the fruits they bore were huge. They were delicious and had countless other advantages that were hard to list. The growth rate wasn’t as absurd as the plants from her teeth, but even with just these benefits, it was unbelievable.
Maru imagined farming with water infused with Hana’s hair. If that happened, the Earth, struggling with the climate crisis, could easily endure. As long as temperatures didn’t skyrocket by dozens of degrees, humanity could produce enough food to survive.
Existing crops were said to go extinct with just a slight temperature increase. In a way, Hana’s existence might be a blessing bestowed upon this Earth.
At first, there were even suggestions to plant Hana in the ground and pluck her hair, but Maru didn’t even want to imagine that. How could anyone treat such a cute child like a psychopath?
“Maru, help me~”
While Maru was lost in these unnecessary thoughts, Hana called out to her from afar. Maru immediately got up and ran to Hana. Hana was holding a huge watermelon and said, “Let’s eat this with the research institute staff!”
The watermelon Hana grew was incredibly sweet. Its sweetness was incomparable to other watermelons. Maru nodded and took the watermelon from Hana. It was so big that even Maru struggled to hold it. She wondered how Hana had managed to carry it.
And so, Maru and the researchers, who had come after hearing Hana had arrived, enjoyed the delicious watermelon. The taste of the watermelon eaten on the porch was absolutely divine.
As they ate the watermelon under the porch, the sound of cicadas filled the air.
——-
“Uh… 500,000 cows?”
The manager couldn’t help but shout in surprise. There are about 3.5 million Hanwoo (Korean beef) cows in Korea, and raising almost 20% of that number was an enormous amount for an individual to handle.
Of course, Kim Sehee had mentioned the maximum number. Realistically, considering the current farm and other factors, only 10,000 to 20,000 cows were feasible. There wouldn’t even be enough rice straw to feed 500,000 cows.
But isn’t it better to aim high? So, Kim Sehee told the civil servant their target number of Hanwoo cows. It was much easier to say they were aiming for 500,000 cows now and negotiate, rather than saying they’d raise 10,000 and then change their story later.
“Yes. We’re setting that as our target number for now. Of course, the current farm we’ve prepared isn’t enough, but I think it’s better to aim big, don’t you?”
The manager was sweating buckets. Listening to Kim Sehee, it sounded like she was trying to monopolize 20% of the Hanwoo beef market as an individual. That didn’t make sense.
“Boss! It’s not that I dislike Starlight Food or anything! But you can’t increase the number of Hanwoo cows this much! Even now, people are arguing about whether to reduce or maintain the current number of Hanwoo cows.”
The manager spoke from a reasonable perspective. He himself had benefited greatly from Starlight Food’s products. His thick, luscious hair was thanks to Tangle, a product from Starlight Food. If it weren’t for Tangle, he’d have to wear an unbearably uncomfortable wig.
He absolutely didn’t want to go back to the days of wearing a wig. Even a slight breeze would make him worry about his wig flying off. But now, no matter how strong the wind, he didn’t care. He could even enjoy the cool breeze with his hands in his pockets.
But work and personal matters had to be separated. As a civil servant working in livestock, Kim Sehee’s entry into the beef market was a warning signal. With domestic beef already losing competitiveness, a giant market dinosaur had appeared. Starlight Food would mercilessly slaughter small-scale farm operators.
“Are you worried the domestic beef market will collapse?”
Kim Sehee’s words hit the nail on the head, and the manager coughed awkwardly. Still, he had to stop this now. If he delayed, even bringing in an excavator wouldn’t help. Just like how early fire suppression is crucial, early response here was vital.
“You know well. These days, Hanwoo farmers are struggling a lot. Please consider their situation—they’re not just competing domestically but also with foreign beef.”
There had been massive protests against U.S. beef in the past. The protests were about not eating beef from cows that might have diseases. From the protesters’ perspective, it was a valid concern. What if the beef caused people to get sick?
Through negotiations and exceptions, the protesters achieved some acceptable results. Still, considering the protests and social backlash, it was thought that U.S. beef wouldn’t sell well. Given Korea’s preference for domestic products, the government assumed people would prefer domestic beef.
But as rumors spread that foreign beef was cheaper and just as tasty as Hanwoo, people gradually started eating more foreign beef. At some point, domestic Hanwoo farmers had to tense up as foreign beef was catching up fast. It might even surpass Hanwoo in consumption.
But Kim Sehee crossed her legs and said, “I don’t see why we should listen to the government…?”
As Kim Sehee said, Starlight Food was a company that hadn’t received any government support.
