Chapter 976 – A Feast of Titans
An hour later, the plains shook with heavy thuds as Fenrir returned. She had shifted back into her towering form, though not the full 100 kilometers — just large enough to drag her kills with ease. Behind her trailed the colossal corpses of several dinosaurs, each one the size of mountains. Their scales shimmered with mana, their blood glowing faintly as it seeped across the grasslands.
Fenrir dropped them in a neat pile with a satisfied grin. "Fresh, just as you like it."
Nearby, Alex was crouched in the shade of a massive stone, his hands already full of glowing herbs, roots, and crystalline fruits harvested from the land. He looked up from his gathered ingredients, smirking as his eyes fell on Fenrir's catch.
"Looks like you really do like dinosaurs," Alex said dryly, brushing the dirt from his palms.
Fenrir wagged her tail, her golden eyes flashing with amusement. "Of course. Their meat is rich with mana. And the T-Rex especially… I never get tired of it."
Ciel covered her lips, smiling as she watched the scene. "So tonight's meal will be a mix — the strongest beasts of this world, seasoned with its finest herbs. A feast worthy of Alex's hands."
Alex rose, carrying the basket of herbs and fruits, his tone calm but warm. "Then let's head back. Everyone at the house is waiting. Tonight, I'll remind them all what real cooking tastes like."
Fenrir shrank back into her small white wolf form, padding cheerfully at his heel, still licking her fangs in anticipation.
With Fenrir trotting happily at his side and Ciel carrying a basket of radiant herbs, Alex opened a shimmering rift of mana. Space folded around them, and in the blink of an eye, they stepped from the vast plains of World Frontier back into the familiar air of Earth.
Before them stood Alex's house. Once modest, it had long since been expanded by his own hands. Its silhouette was vast, built from rare woods and reinforced stone, glowing faintly with protective enchantments. Towering walls and courtyards stretched out like a small estate, though every corner carried the warmth of home rather than the stiffness of a fortress.
The doors opened as they approached, the gentle hum of the barrier welcoming them in. Inside, the rooms were wide, airy, and bathed in light — enough space for every member of his harem, his daughters, and even visiting beasts like Fenrir when she wished to stay.
Fenrir padded in first, still in her small white wolf form, her tail wagging as her claws clicked against the polished floor. "Hah, I almost forgot how big you made this place," she said, sniffing around with a playful grin. "It feels like a den fit for a god-pack."
Alex gave a small laugh, setting the harvested herbs on the kitchen counter that was large enough to look like a banquet hall's preparation space. "It had to be. With so many of you here, a normal house would have crumbled long ago."
Ciel's golden eyes softened as she stepped inside, brushing her fingers along the walls. "Even so, it's still warm. Still home."
Fenrir leapt onto a couch with the ease of a house pet, curling up in her small form as though she hadn't just dragged back mountain-sized prey an hour ago. Her ears perked as she licked her paws. "Then cook, Alex. I've waited too long for this."
Alex smirked, rolling up his sleeves as mana flickered through the kitchen. "Alright. Let's make tonight unforgettable."
The kitchen filled with the rich fragrance of roasted dinosaur meat, herbs sizzling, and fruits releasing their nectar into shimmering sauces. Alex moved like a conductor at the heart of a symphony, his mana guiding knives, flames, and pans all at once. By the time the last dish was set, the long banquet hall glowed with warmth — a table filled with delicacies no world had ever seen.
Just as he finished, two figures rushed in from the corridor. Ying Hua and Lian Yuer threw themselves into his arms.
"Father, welcome back," they said together, their voices full of devotion and joy.
Alex stroked their hair gently, a rare softness in his eyes. "I'm back. And tonight, we eat together."
Then, with a thought, he extended his mind outward, his voice reaching every bond, every soul tied to him.
"I've prepared a feast. Do you have free time? Teleport here."
The answers came swiftly, one after another, like waves rolling back to shore.
Morgan, Reyne, Airi, Hanabi, Nefertiti, Nyx, Iris, Mary, Mira, Vira, Mircella, Ileana, Aphrodite, Athena, Artemis, Amaterasu, Yu Mei, Fei Xue, Ling Hua, Mei Lian, Ru Yan, Shui Yun, Yan Zhi, Jin Rou, Shi Lian, Xue Lian, Lan Xueya, Ling Shuanghua, Ye Ling — all their voices overlapped in harmony:
"Ok, Alex, we will go."
And then Yuka's bright voice rang out, brimming with affection:
"Ok, Father!"
The call of his sex slaves followed — the high-rank women Leng Yuer, Yue Hua, Han Meiyun, Elder Ying Yue, Lian Hua, Lian Xin, Elder Mei Suhua, and Xu Li — their tone reverent and eager.
"Yes, Master."
Finally, the chorus of his vast household surged as one — 2,500 sex slaves, each voice echoing with devotion.
"Yes, Master!"
Within moments, teleportation circles shimmered across the hall. One by one, then in groups, his harem, daughters, and slaves appeared, filling the great chamber with beauty, warmth, and anticipation. Their eyes fell on the endless dishes spread across the table, and the air thickened with excitement.
Alex stood at the head of the table, Ciel and Fenrir at his side, his voice calm yet carrying the weight of absolute presence.
"Sit. Tonight, the food of World Frontier is yours."
The banquet hall glowed with light as everyone gathered. Plates and bowls lined the endless table, brimming with Alex's cooking — roasted tyrannosaur steaks glistening with mana-rich juices, simmered herbs filling the air with fragrance, crystalline fruits shining like jewels, and soups that shimmered faintly with restorative power.
Fenrir sat proudly at Alex's side in her white wolf form, her tail wagging furiously as her nose twitched toward the roasted T-Rex meat. "Finally…!" she said, almost drooling.
Ciel laughed softly, her golden eyes warm as she handed her a plate. "Patience, Fenrir. Tonight is special."
The women filled the seats one after another. Morgan sat with her usual cool elegance, though her blue eyes softened only when she glanced at Alex. "Hmph. You always disappear, and yet every time you return, it feels like this." She lifted her glass, her lips curving faintly. "Home."
Reyne, arms crossed proudly, eyed the dishes with a grin. "Even dragons would fight wars for food like this."
Hanabi twirled a piece of meat with her chopsticks, her fox ears twitching mischievously. "Careful, Reyne. If you fight here, you'll lose before you even take a bite. Alex's food is mine first!"
"Yours?" Mira leaned forward with a wicked smile, her purple eyes gleaming. "Why not share? It's more fun when there are many mouths."
Mary blushed furiously, her blue-haired form shaking as she whispered, "M-Mira! D-don't say things like that at the table!"
The hall filled with laughter. Aphrodite leaned lazily across her chair, her pink hair glittering with golden roses, and plucked a roasted slice of meat with her fingers. "Mmm… Alex, your hands are divine in more ways than one." Her eyes half-lidded, sultry. "I could live on this alone."
Athena and Artemis exchanged a look, both sisters hiding their small blushes as they tasted the food. "So gentle," Artemis whispered. "He even makes meals that feel like love itself." Athena only nodded, unable to hide her shy smile.
Vira, the high elf, chewed slowly, savoring every bite as her golden eyes shimmered with pride. "Superior… of course his food would be. None of you should be surprised." She paused, then added softly, "Except Ciel. She is always worthy to sit beside him."
"Big sister Ciel," Ye Ling said timidly, brushing her silver hair behind her ear. "It tastes… like the world itself is healing me."
Ciel smiled, reaching to gently stroke Ye Ling's hand. "That's because he puts more than ingredients into it. He puts himself."
The daughters were no less lively. Yuka, her black eyes sparkling, eagerly stuffed her cheeks with meat. "So good! Father, make this every day!"
Ying Hua and Lian Yuer both sat straight-backed at his side, but their eyes never left him. They ate slowly, reverently, as though each bite was sacred. "Even food," Ying Hua said quietly, "becomes truth in your hands."
All around, voices mingled. Yu Mei teased Shi Lian with playful words, Shui Yun smiled shyly as she sipped soup, and Fei Xue maintained her dignified composure — though even she closed her eyes with pleasure at the taste.
The high-rank sex slaves knelt respectfully before being permitted to eat, their faces glowing with happiness when Alex nodded. "Yes, Master." They each savored their first bite with expressions of pure bliss.
And the 2,500 slaves filled the hall like a tide of voices, their chants of "Thank you, Master" rising as one before they joined the feast.
Alex sat at the head of it all, silent for a long moment as he watched them laugh, tease, and smile together. His gaze softened, a warmth flickering in his golden eyes.
This — this was what he had built. Not just strength, not just worlds, but a home that no god or corruption could ever touch.
"Eat well," Alex finally said, his voice calm yet resonant, silencing the hall for a heartbeat. "Because tonight, we feast as one family."
The hall erupted in joy, the clatter of cups and laughter rising again. And in that moment, surrounded by his harem, his daughters, his slaves, and his companions, Alex knew that even on a planet the size of a star, nothing was larger than this — the world they had created together.
The hall was alive with warmth and chatter when a sudden ripple of space shimmered at the far end of the table. A playful voice rang out:
"Sorry I'm late, onee-chan~!"
Skuld stepped out of the light, her silver hair bouncing, her expression mischievous as always. She carried herself with the carefree air of someone who treated time itself like a toy, her smile bright as her gaze swept over the feast.
Ciel's golden eyes softened at once. "Skuld… you're here."
"Mmhm!" Skuld skipped over with unshakable cheer, leaning lightly against her sister before turning her eyes to Alex. "I couldn't miss this, could I? I followed the smell halfway across the realms."
Alex reached out without hesitation, his hand falling gently atop her head. She tilted into his touch like a spoiled child, her grin widening.
"Playful as ever," Alex said, a faint smile tugging at his lips.
"Of course," Skuld replied, closing her eyes happily under his pat. "Because I know you'll forgive me every time."
The room chuckled at her antics, the air growing even lighter. Fenrir flicked her ears, muttering, "Tch. Late wolf cubs should get scraps." But her tail wagged anyway.
Ciel only laughed softly, her gaze warm as she embraced her younger sister. "You're just in time, Skuld. Sit. Eat."
Skuld leaned closer to Alex with a playful wink. "Only if you promise to give me the first bite you feed."
Alex shook his head, amused, before lifting a small plate toward her. "Then behave, and you'll get it."
The laughter spread again, the banquet growing brighter with her arrival.
As Skuld sat down, her eyes immediately darted to Alex's plate. With a sly grin, she leaned forward, her chopsticks flashing like lightning.
"Mine~," she chimed, snatching a piece of perfectly roasted T-Rex meat straight from in front of him.
Before anyone else could react, she popped it into her mouth, her cheeks puffing adorably as she chewed with exaggerated delight. "Mmmm… your food really is the best!"
The hall erupted in laughter. Hanabi clapped her hands, her fox ears twitching. "Bold! Even I wouldn't dare steal from Alex's plate."
Morgan only shook her head, exhaling softly. "Honestly… that girl."
Alex sighed, though the faint smile tugging at his lips betrayed his amusement. He ruffled Skuld's hair with his hand, her silver locks falling around her playful grin.
"You're troublesome," he said calmly. "If you wanted some, you should have asked."
Skuld giggled, leaning into his pat like a pampered kitten. "But it tastes better when I steal it!"
Alex shook his head again, and with a flick of his wrist, summoned fresh ingredients into the air. The kitchen flared with light as he cooked another portion just for her, the fragrance drawing even more longing glances from the others.
When he set the steaming plate down before her, he spoke softly:
"This is for you. Don't steal again."
Skuld's eyes sparkled as she hugged his arm briefly. "Hehe… Thank you, Onee-chan."
Chapter 977 – After the Feast
Eight hours had passed since the banquet began.
The once-brimming tables were now scattered with empty plates, drained cups, and the lingering fragrance of roasted dinosaur meat and sweet fruits. Laughter and chatter had slowly faded as the hours went by, the great hall turning from a storm of celebration into the calm quiet of contentment.
One by one, many of Alex's harem members and sex slaves rose from their seats, bowing their heads or brushing their fingers along his shoulders in gratitude before teleporting back to their duties, sects, or realms.
"Thank you, Alex. It was perfect," Athena said softly, her golden hair glowing as she smiled before vanishing in a shimmer of light.
Artemis followed her, giving him a quick, proud nod before fading away.
Yu Mei gathered her sisters, her eyes lingering on Alex for a moment longer than the rest. "We'll return for now, but call us again whenever you wish."
Fei Xue, Shui Yun, and the others all bowed respectfully before stepping into the teleportation array.
The high-rank sex slaves were the last among the larger group to leave. They knelt once more, their voices united. "Thank you, Master." With that, Leng Yuer, Yue Hua, Han Meiyun, Elder Ying Yue, Lian Hua, Lian Xin, Elder Mei Suhua, and Xu Li disappeared.
And finally, the 2,500 slaves departed in waves, teleportation circles flickering like starlight until the hall was empty, leaving behind only silence and the faint echo of their devotion.
When the light dimmed, only a few remained — Ciel, Morgan, Ye Ling, Reyne, Nefertiti, Ying Hua, Lian Yuer, Fenrir (dozing in her white wolf form), and Skuld curled against Ciel like a child refusing to move.
The hall felt vast once more, yet warm, filled not with noise but with peace.
Alex leaned back in his chair, exhaling softly. "Eight hours… and still not enough." His golden eyes softened, lingering on those who chose to stay. "But it was good."
Ciel's gentle smile matched his tone. "Yes. It was perfect."
Skuld, who had been lazily curled against Ciel's shoulder with a satisfied grin, perked up when Alex spoke.
"Skuld," he said, his hand brushing her hair to get her attention. "Take this."
With a flick of his wrist, several ornate food boxes appeared, crafted from enchanted wood and sealed with preservation spells. Each radiated a faint warmth, carrying the lingering fragrance of the feast inside.
"These are for your sisters," Alex continued, setting the boxes gently into her hands. "Share it with them. Tell them it's from me."
Skuld's golden eyes widened, her usual playfulness softening into something tender. She hugged the boxes close to her chest, nodding earnestly. "I will… They'll be so happy. Thank you, Father."
Morgan raised an eyebrow, her voice cool but touched with faint amusement. "Spoiled as ever. He cooks for her and still sends her home with more."
Ciel chuckled, smoothing Skuld's hair. "She's the youngest. Let her be spoiled."
Fenrir cracked an eye open from the couch, her tail flicking. "Hmph. If she doesn't carry those fast, I might eat them myself."
Skuld stuck her tongue out at the wolf, then leaned forward and gave Alex a quick kiss on the cheek before darting toward the teleportation circle, the boxes cradled protectively in her arms. "I'll go now! Don't forget to cook for me again next time!"
With a flash of light, she was gone, her laughter echoing faintly even as the hall fell quiet again.
After Skuld vanished in a shimmer of light, the hall grew calm again. Alex stood, his gaze drifting toward Fenrir, who had been lounging lazily in her wolf form near the hearth.
"Fenrir," he said.
She yawned wide, her fangs gleaming, before padding over to him. "Mm? What is it?"
"You prefer the hunt," Alex replied simply. With a flick of his fingers, space folded, and in the next instant she vanished in a ripple of mana — teleported back to the wild expanse of World Frontier where titanic prey roamed freely.
A low chuckle echoed faintly in his mind as her voice brushed back through the bond. "I'll bring you more meat next time."
The room quieted further after her departure. The long table still glowed faintly from the feast, but most of his companions had returned to their realms and duties. Only Ciel, Morgan, Ye Ling, Nefertiti, Reyne, Ying Hua, and Lian Yuer remained with him.
Alex exhaled softly and leaned back in his chair, golden eyes narrowing as he let the silence linger. It wasn't the heavy silence of loneliness, but the rare, precious quiet that came when the storm had passed.
Ciel rested her chin in her hand, her golden eyes studying him. "You're thinking too much again."
Alex smiled faintly at her words. "Maybe. But tonight reminded me… of what I've built. A world where they can laugh without fear."
Ye Ling, sitting nearby with her hands folded in her lap, looked up shyly. "And… isn't that enough, Alex? You've given them all peace."
Morgan's cool voice cut in, though there was no sharpness to it, only honesty. "Peace, perhaps. But you always look beyond. You never stop moving forward. That is why… we follow you."
Lian Yuer and Ying Hua exchanged glances, then leaned against him on either side, their voices soft in unison.
"Father… you don't need to carry everything alone. You have us."
For a moment, Alex closed his eyes. The warmth of their presence, their loyalty, their love — it was a reminder sharper than any blade. He placed a hand gently on each of his daughters' heads, his voice low.
"I know. And I won't forget it."
Nefertiti, ever poised, smiled faintly. "You should allow yourself to enjoy moments like this, Alex. They are rare."
Reyne crossed her arms, purple eyes glowing faintly. "Rare… but precious. You've given us all something no one else could. That alone is enough."
Ciel finally reached across the table, laying her hand over his. Her smile was gentle, her voice tender. "Stay here a while longer. Just as you are. With us."
The great hall, once filled with endless voices, now felt like the heart of a family — quiet, warm, eternal.
The giants had moved first — Coca-Cola, PepsiCo, Nestlé, Starbucks, and Red Bull — but the aftershocks of their adoption spread quickly. Smaller beverage companies, regional brands, and niche competitors suddenly faced a choice: adapt to Aten sugar, or vanish.
Monster Energy was among the first to react. Long criticized for its high sugar content, the company launched a limited test batch called Monster Mana, replacing its old sweeteners with Aten sugar. The reaction from their core audience — gamers, athletes, and late-night workers — was immediate. "It tastes smoother," one streamer said during a live review, "and it doesn't make me crash after a few hours. I could actually drink this daily." Within weeks, the pilot cans sold out in California and Tokyo.
Dr Pepper also moved quickly. Famous for its 23 flavors, the company initially worried that Aten sugar might alter the delicate balance. But to their surprise, the opposite occurred. The flavors became sharper, more distinct, and lingered on the tongue without heaviness. Test markets in Texas and London showed a dramatic spike in repeat purchases. Customers described the drink as "the cleanest version of Dr Pepper ever made."
In Asia, regional tea brands were perhaps the most enthusiastic adopters. Taiwanese bubble tea shops were already experimenting with Aten sugar syrups, and the results went viral on TikTok and Weibo. Golden tapioca pearls shimmered faintly in milk tea, and customers described them as "refreshing instead of filling." In Thailand, street vendors proudly advertised "Mana Thai Tea," its sweetness now carrying a subtle vitality that left tourists and locals alike craving more.
Even smaller soda companies, long overshadowed by giants, found new life. Mexican brand Jarritos tested Aten sugar in their fruit sodas, and the mango and guava flavors were described by critics as "vivid, almost glowing with freshness." In Europe, boutique sparkling water companies blended Aten sugar into flavored waters, marketing them not as indulgence, but as healthy refreshment with a mana kick.
The shift wasn't just about taste. It was about survival. Stock analysts noted a sudden surge of acquisitions and partnerships as larger corporations bought up regional brands experimenting with Aten sugar. No company wanted to be left behind in what economists were now calling "the Golden Beverage Rush."
For consumers, it was a dream. From corner stores in Mexico to high-end cafés in Paris, every shelf seemed to carry something new, something golden, something sweet without guilt. And everywhere, the same words spread:
"It's the same drink… but better."
The age of refined sugar had ended. From the giants of Atlanta and New York to the bubble tea stalls of Taipei and the soda shacks of Rio, Aten sugar was now the beating heart of the beverage world.
Yet among the giants and their well-known rivals, a surprising name began making waves.
Big Cola, owned by AJE Group, a Peruvian beverage company long considered a minor player compared to Coca-Cola and Pepsi, suddenly found itself in the spotlight.
While the multinationals were still rolling out careful test batches, AJE Group went all in. Within weeks of Aten sugar's global breakthrough, Big Cola reformulated its entire product line, replacing refined sugar with Aten sugar across Latin America, Southeast Asia, and Africa — regions where the company had quietly built a loyal following.
The gamble paid off spectacularly.
In Lima, shoppers flooded supermarkets when the first Aten sugar Big Cola bottles appeared on shelves. Street vendors reported selling out of the reformulated soda in hours, while children laughed, pointing at the faint golden shimmer when the light hit the fizzy drink just right.
In Bangkok, where Big Cola already competed fiercely with Pepsi at half the price, the Aten version quickly became a phenomenon. "It's cleaner. Fresher. Better," said one college student as she bought a two-liter bottle with friends. "And it's cheaper than Coke or Pepsi."
Social media crowned Big Cola as the "people's champion" — a company that moved faster than the giants and gave Aten sugar drinks to everyday families at affordable prices. Influencers dubbed it "Golden Cola", and within two months, AJE Group's sales figures skyrocketed.
Analysts described the move as a masterstroke.
"While Coca-Cola and Pepsi are testing in select markets, Big Cola just took the leap — and in doing so, they've seized ground the giants weren't ready to defend. This could mark the first time in decades that the global duopoly of Coke and Pepsi faces a real third challenger."
For the first time in history, a Latin American brand was not just competing — it was surging ahead.
And in offices from Atlanta to Purchase, New York, executives at Coca-Cola and PepsiCo watched the reports with narrowed eyes.
The age of Aten sugar had birthed not only new products, but new contenders. The beverage battlefield was no longer just red vs. blue. A new color had entered the war — the golden hue of Big Cola.
But while the headlines focused on Coca-Cola, PepsiCo, Nestlé, and Monster Energy, another story was brewing quietly — one no analyst had predicted.
Big Cola, the flagship brand of AJE Group, a Peruvian company long seen as the underdog of the global soda wars, suddenly surged into the spotlight.
The moment the University of Cambridge students released the method for extracting Aten sugar, Big Cola moved faster than anyone else. Without the massive bureaucracy of its multinational rivals, the company pivoted in days. Executives immediately hired alchemists — not just one or two, but entire teams across Peru, Mexico, and Southeast Asia. Their task was simple: produce Aten sugar at scale.
What shocked competitors was how quickly they succeeded. Big Cola, operating in markets where survival meant agility, didn't waste time with endless test panels. Within weeks, they had stockpiled enough Aten sugar to begin large-scale experimentation. Dozens of formulas were tested in rapid succession, from the flagship cola to new fruit sodas, iced teas, and energy drinks.
By the time Coca-Cola and Pepsi were still rolling out their "pilot products," Big Cola announced something bolder:
"We are going all in. Every Big Cola product, starting next quarter, will be 100% Aten sugar."
The statement stunned the beverage world. For years, Big Cola had been dismissed as a low-cost competitor, selling budget sodas in Latin America, Africa, and Asia. But now, they weren't just competing on price — they were offering something the giants had only promised: a full product line powered entirely by Aten sugar.
In Lima, crowds lined up outside supermarkets to try the new formula. Early reviews were ecstatic:
"It's sweeter but not heavy — I don't feel bloated after drinking it.""It tastes cleaner than Coke or Pepsi. Like… the same drink, but purified.""I never thought Big Cola would be the one to change everything."
Sales skyrocketed. In some markets, Big Cola even outsold Coca-Cola and Pepsi for the first time in history. Reporters began calling it "The Dark Horse of the Golden Age."
Competitors scrambled to respond, but analysts noted one advantage Big Cola had that others didn't: speed. Without legacy contracts, massive global supply chains, or endless boards of directors, Big Cola was free to adapt overnight.
What had once been the cheap alternative suddenly became the trendsetter — proof that in the new age of Aten sugar, the rules of the beverage world were being rewritten.
And Big Cola had just placed itself on the front page of history.
Big Cola's executives knew they could never match Coca-Cola or Pepsi in sheer financial power. But they also knew the global stage had just reset — and in moments of upheaval, speed mattered more than wealth.
Their strategy was simple, almost reckless:
Build loyalty fast. Capture market share before the giants even finish their first tests.
And so, Big Cola did something no one thought possible.
They went all in.
Every last reserve of Aten sugar they produced went straight into their bottling plants. Instead of holding back for pilot products or limited editions, they converted their entire production line. Every drink — from Big Cola to Kola Real, Cifrut, and Big Fresh — now contained only Aten sugar.
Even more shocking was their financial gamble. They poured every cent into expansion and advertising, leaving no capital reserves. Entire factories were retooled, supply chains redirected, and distribution contracts rewritten in weeks, not months. Billboards and television ads across Latin America screamed the same message:
"The future of sweetness is here. Big Cola is already there."
The gamble stunned analysts. "It's suicide if it fails," one Wall Street commentator said. "If supply collapses or customers reject the taste, AJE Group will have nothing left. They've bet the company."
But on the streets, the reaction was electric. Consumers weren't just buying the drinks — they were buying into the story. The underdog who dared to leap where giants hesitated became a symbol of courage.
In Mexico City, university students filmed themselves holding up cans of Big Cola, chanting:
"¡El primero con Aten! The first with Aten!"
In Peru, long lines formed outside stores, some customers carrying boxes of Big Cola like trophies. Street vendors, always quick to read the crowd, filled their coolers with nothing else.
The gamble was working. Big Cola wasn't just selling soda anymore — they were building a loyal customer base that felt part of a movement.
For the first time, the dark horse wasn't just running in the race.
It was leading.
The results were better than anyone expected.
Within just two months, sales reports from Latin America showed a surge unlike anything the beverage industry had ever recorded. Big Cola wasn't just gaining ground — it was dominating entire regions.
In Peru, their home base, market share rocketed past Coca-Cola and Pepsi for the first time in history. In Mexico, distributors reported selling out of Big Cola products within days of delivery, sometimes before they even reached the shelves. Small corner stores proudly hung handwritten signs:
"Aquí vendemos Aten – Only Big Cola."
The taste was the same as before — the classic formulas people had grown up with — but with Aten sugar, every sip was different. Customers described it as cleaner, lighter, refreshing without guilt. The old heaviness of cane sugar was gone, replaced by a sweetness that seemed to energize rather than slow down.
Consumer loyalty skyrocketed. Social media campaigns spread like wildfire, fueled not by expensive marketing teams but by ordinary people recording their first tastes.
"Big Cola makes me feel awake, not sluggish!"
"My kids drink it, and I don't worry anymore."
"Finally — a soda that doesn't feel like poison."
Analysts who once mocked the gamble now looked at the numbers in disbelief. Big Cola's revenue had nearly doubled, and in some cities, they were outselling Coca-Cola three-to-one.
The company that had always lived in the shadows was now the face of bold innovation.
And perhaps most shocking of all — the financial gamble that was supposed to leave them bankrupt? The surge in demand paid it back tenfold. Their once-empty reserves overflowed as investors, once skeptical, now begged for a seat at the table.
For the first time, AJE Group wasn't just a competitor.
It was a threat.
Big Cola's meteoric rise didn't go unnoticed. In fact, it shook the giants.
At Coca-Cola headquarters in Atlanta, executives pored over charts showing plummeting numbers across Latin America. In Mexico and Peru, their dominance — something they had held for generations — was slipping. PepsiCo's boardrooms looked no better, with regional distributors quietly warning that stores were replacing their displays with Big Cola banners.
For Nestlé, the hit came in bottled teas and flavored waters. In markets where they had been expanding, Big Cola had already undercut them, using Aten sugar formulas that were cheaper to make yet more energizing to drink.
But unlike before, the multinationals weren't caught flat-footed. They had just finished the monumental task of converting their production lines entirely to Aten sugar. The last two months had been a race against time — testing, recalibrating machines, reformulating syrups — but it was done.
And now, they were ready.
Coca-Cola announced the relaunch of its core lineup, proudly declaring:
"The same Coke you love. Now made with Aten Sugar."
Pepsi responded within hours with their own bold campaign:
"Taste the future. Pepsi with Aten."
Nestlé followed with their global tea and coffee lines, branding them "Mana-Infused, Naturally Sweet."
The effect was immediate. Customers who had already been shifting toward Big Cola suddenly found their old favorites — lighter, cleaner, revitalizing — waiting for them again. Sales began to stabilize.
Yet, despite the relaunch, analysts pointed out the undeniable truth: Big Cola had carved out real territory. The loyalty it had built in just two months could not be erased overnight.
In response, the giants doubled down. Advertising budgets were multiplied. Contracts with alchemists and Aten rice suppliers were signed at breakneck speed. Pepsi and Coca-Cola began fighting store by store, street by street, determined to win back the ground they had lost.
For the first time in history, the world's beverage war wasn't just Coke versus Pepsi anymore.
It was Coke, Pepsi, Nestlé… versus Big Cola.
For decades, the beverage industry had been a two-horse race — Coca-Cola and Pepsi — with Nestlé commanding the bottled water and coffee sectors. Big Cola had always been treated as a cheap regional alternative, ignored by the giants.
But Aten sugar changed everything.
Two months after its adoption, the battlefield looked nothing like before.
Coca-Cola had successfully rebranded itself as the "original classic taste, reborn with Aten," pouring billions into reclaiming loyalty. Its new advertisements painted Coke not as an old brand adapting, but as the natural heir to this new age of sweetness.
Pepsi went bold, leaning on youth and innovation. "Taste the Future" campaigns flooded social media, tying Pepsi's Aten sugar drinks to esports, fashion, and global pop culture.
Nestlé dug into its strength: health and wellness. From coffee to teas to flavored waters, their Aten sugar products weren't just drinks — they were sold as lifestyle choices, with promises of clean energy and harmony with mana.
And then there was Big Cola — the once underestimated challenger. Having gone all-in with reckless expansion and advertising blitzes, it shocked the industry by holding its ground. In markets across Latin America, Africa, and Asia, Big Cola was no longer a "cheap alternative." It was a mainstay brand, its identity tied directly to Aten sugar's revolution.
Analysts were stunned. For the first time, the charts showed not two, not three, but four titans standing evenly matched.
Coke, Pepsi, Nestlé, and Big Cola.
Each had carved their corner of the new world. Each had billions of loyal drinkers. And each was prepared to fight tooth and nail to keep them.
The anchor on an international business network summed it up:
"The age of the Cola Wars is over. This is now the Era of the Four."
Chapter 979 – "The Sweet Giants"
The beverage industry wasn't the only one transformed by Aten sugar. In the world of confectionery, the change was even more dramatic.
For over a century, brands like Mars, Mondelez, Ferrero, Hershey, and Meiji had built empires on chocolate, candy, and biscuits. But now, with Aten sugar proving itself as both safe and vitalizing, they faced a stark choice: adapt or vanish.
Mondelez International, makers of Oreo and Cadbury, was the first to move boldly. Within weeks of successful tests, they announced a new global line: "Mana Sweets." Their ads showed glowing Oreos and chocolate bars shimmering with a golden sheen, promising indulgence without guilt. Sales exploded in Europe and India, where Oreos became not just snacks but symbols of futuristic living.
Mars Incorporated followed quickly, re-launching classics like Snickers and M&M's with Aten sugar. Their campaign was simple and direct:
"Energy that lasts."
Snickers bars didn't just stave off hunger — now, infused with Aten's vitality, they left consumers refreshed instead of sluggish. Athletes and students alike praised the difference.
Ferrero Group, proud guardian of Nutella and Ferrero Rocher, took a more luxurious route. Their golden-wrapped chocolates literally shimmered faintly under the light, and their new line was branded as "Divine Rocher." Ads declared:
"Not just chocolate. A taste of eternity."
Demand in Europe skyrocketed, with waiting lists in some countries.
Hershey's leaned on its North American legacy, running emotional ads showing children eating Aten-sugar s'mores by a campfire. The tagline:
"The sweetness you love — now made for tomorrow."
Parents, comforted by the promise of "healthy sweetness," embraced it wholeheartedly.
Meiji, Japan's confectionery powerhouse, held an early advantage. Already two years into Aten-rice-fed livestock and dairy experiments, their chocolate products used Aten-rich milk and Aten sugar together — creating treats so refined that critics called them "a new category of cuisine."
Across the world, small confectionery companies tried to follow, but struggled. Aten sugar wasn't rare anymore, but mastering its balance in recipes required alchemists, testing labs, and infrastructure that only the giants could afford. The gap widened: big companies soared higher, while smaller players were either bought out or faded into irrelevance.
By the end of the second month, the results were undeniable:
Sales of traditional sugar candies collapsed by nearly 70%.Aten-based sweets became the global standard.Confectionery giants reported record-breaking growth, with shares surging on every stock exchange.
The age of guilty pleasure was over. Now came the age of "sweetness without sin."
The anchorwoman on a global food channel closed her report with words that echoed in kitchens and boardrooms alike:
"The children of the future will never know a world without Aten sugar. This isn't just candy anymore — it's culture."
Among all the confectionery titans, Meiji had the greatest advantage.
For two years, Japan had been quietly experimenting with Aten rice in agriculture. Their cattle, chickens, and dairy cows had already been raised on Aten-fed diets — producing milk, eggs, and cream infused with natural vitality. When combined with Aten sugar, the result was unmatched: chocolate with richness beyond anything the world had tasted before.
Food critics described Meiji's flagship line, "Divine Mana Chocolate," in reverent tones:
"The sweetness is clean, the bitterness of cacao perfectly balanced… but the aftertaste is something new — warmth spreading through the body like sunlight."
Unlike European brands that scrambled to integrate Aten sugar into old formulas, Meiji was years ahead. Their entire supply chain — from cocoa blending to milk production — was already aligned with Aten agriculture. It wasn't just sugar that set them apart, but the synergy of every ingredient.
Japan became the epicenter of a confectionery pilgrimage. Tourists flocked to Tokyo and Osaka not just for culture, but to taste the sweets that critics called "the first true food of the new age." International demand surged so high that Meiji's exports sold out months in advance.
Competitors could only watch in frustration:
Ferrero tried to brand Aten-sugar Rocher as luxury, but even their gold foil seemed dull compared to Meiji's living radiance.Mondelez dominated Oreos and Cadbury, but their products felt mass-produced, while Meiji's treats carried the aura of authentic craftsmanship.Mars sold volume, but Meiji sold experience.
For the first time in decades, Western confectionery giants were on the defensive — and an Asian company was setting the global standard.
A headline in the Financial Times summed it up:
"Meiji: From Chocolate Maker to Cultural Vanguard."
And in Japan, the government quietly supported this rise, seeing Aten sweets not just as business but as national pride. Trade officials openly declared:
"We will export the products — but the secrets of our Aten-fed livestock and dairy will remain in Japan."
The world understood: while anyone could make Aten sugar, only Meiji had mastered the golden ecosystem around it.
The reporters who visited Hokkaido expected to find only shining factories and gleaming stores. Instead, they were brought to the quiet heart of Meiji's secret: the farms.
One dairy farmer, his hands rough from years of work, stood proudly beside his herd. The cows grazed peacefully, their coats glossy, their eyes bright. He spoke to the cameras with a mixture of humility and awe:
"Since we started feeding Aten rice, everything has changed. The cows give more milk than ever before — richer, creamier, full of strength. But what amazes me most… is how rarely they fall sick. Some farms haven't seen a single illness in years."
His wife, standing beside him, added with a smile:
"We still care for them as if they were fragile — clean barns, proper rest, constant attention. But it feels like Aten rice has blessed them. Their bodies are strong, and their spirits too. We've never seen animals so healthy."
Journalists noted that veterinarians on-site confirmed the same: cases of mastitis, fevers, or infections had dropped to near zero. Instead of spending resources on medicine, farmers focused entirely on nurturing their animals, maintaining quality care even when sickness seemed a thing of the past.
This stability was more than a blessing — it was a revolution. Consistently healthy cows meant a steady river of milk, unfailing in volume or quality. And when this milk flowed into Meiji's chocolate factories, it created the foundation for sweets that no other brand could rival.
A European food critic, after tasting a single piece of Meiji milk chocolate, described it bluntly:
"This is not chocolate. This is ambrosia. The gods themselves would envy it."
The secret was out, but the method was not. Aten sugar was public knowledge, but Aten-fed herds remained firmly within Japan. Every farmer interviewed echoed the same quiet pride:
"We will share the chocolate. But the cows? The cows stay here."
The reporters were preparing to wrap up their visit when one of them spotted something curious. A man was walking through the pasture with a cello slung across his back, another with a violin case. At first, the journalists thought it was coincidence, but then they noticed the cows shifting lazily, their ears twitching toward the men.
"Excuse me," one reporter asked, puzzled, "why are there musicians here?"
The farmer chuckled, scratching the back of his neck.
"Well, since our medical expenses dropped to almost nothing after Aten rice, we decided to use that budget differently. We hired musicians."
The reporter blinked. "Musicians… for cows?"
The farmer nodded seriously.
"Yes. We learned long ago that music calms them, lowers their stress. A calm cow gives better milk — not just more, but sweeter, smoother, with stronger consistency. Since we started, the results have been unbelievable. Quantity and quality both improved."
Right on cue, the sound of strings floated across the field — a slow, soothing melody carried by violin and cello. The cows responded almost instantly, lowering their heads, chewing calmly, their tails flicking with contentment.
Another farmer's wife explained with a smile:
"It may sound silly to some, but to us, it's respect. These cows give us so much. If music makes them happy, then music is what they'll have."
The reporters watched, stunned, as the herd seemed to sway in rhythm, the air filled with both the fragrance of grass and the harmony of strings. Cameras captured the surreal scene: sunlight spilling over emerald pastures, golden-haired cattle grazing serenely while human musicians played just for them.
The anchor covering the story summed it up later with quiet awe:
"Aten rice healed their bodies. Music healed their hearts. And together, they've created the finest milk the world has ever known."
And when that milk flowed into Meiji's chocolate factories, the world understood why no competitor could catch up.
The farmer waved one of the journalists over to the barn, where a freshly filled steel container gleamed under the sunlight. He dipped a ladle into the cool liquid and poured it into simple glass cups.
"Go on," he urged with a smile. "Try it yourself. This is from cows fed entirely on Aten rice… and serenaded every morning."
The reporters hesitated only a moment before lifting the cups. The milk looked ordinary at first glance — creamy white, smooth — but when it touched their lips, their eyes widened in unison.
"It's… warm," one whispered, astonished. "Not in temperature, but in feeling."
Another nodded vigorously. "It's richer, yet lighter on the stomach. Sweet, but not cloying… it feels alive."
A cameraman gulped his portion quickly and laughed, wiping his mouth.
"It tastes cleaner than bottled water, but thicker, like velvet. No bitterness, no heaviness. Just pure…" He searched for the word and finally said: "…happiness."
The farmer chuckled proudly.
"That's what we've been saying. The cows are healthier, the milk richer. And since they hardly ever fall sick anymore, there are no medicines or stress to taint the flavor. What you just drank is as natural as it gets."
One of the reporters lowered her cup slowly, still stunned.
"No wonder Meiji is pulling ahead of the competition. If this is the base of their chocolate, then… it isn't just candy anymore. It's art."
The cameras lingered on the glasses, half-empty but gleaming faintly in the light, as if even the milk carried a golden undertone — a quiet proof that Aten rice and a little music had changed the very essence of dairy.
Chapter 980 – "Golden Yolks"
The reporters followed the farmers down a dirt path, the soft clucking of hens growing louder as they neared the laying houses. The scent of straw and grain filled the air, but it wasn't unpleasant — it was warm, alive, and oddly clean.
Inside, rows of chickens pecked calmly at feed troughs brimming with crushed Aten rice. The birds looked glossy and well-kept, their feathers shining under the sunlight streaming through open windows. A faint serenity filled the space — no frantic movements, no sickly birds.
One farmer reached into a collection basket and held up a freshly laid egg. At first glance, it looked normal — smooth, oval, a perfect white shell. But as the reporters leaned closer, their eyes widened.
The shell wasn't pure white. It carried the faintest shimmer, an almost imperceptible glow of gold that danced across the surface when light struck it just right.
"Do you see it?" the farmer asked with a proud smile. "It's subtle, but it's there. Aten-fed hens lay eggs touched by mana itself."
The reporters quickly gathered around as more eggs were collected, each carrying that same delicate sheen. One cameraman zoomed in, capturing the golden tint. On the live feed, the eggs looked like pearls kissed by dawn light.
"Are they safe to eat?" one reporter asked.
The farmer laughed. "Safer than any egg you've ever had. These chickens don't get sick anymore. We haven't lost a hen in over a year. Strong shells, rich yolks… they're healthier than we've ever seen."
To prove his point, he cracked one open into a small glass bowl. The yolk spilled out, thick and perfectly rounded. Its color was not the deep orange of premium eggs, but something lighter, brighter — a soft gold that seemed to glow faintly against the glass.
Gasps filled the room.
"It looks… divine," whispered a reporter.
The farmer nodded. "And it tastes even better. Meiji has already been buying crates of these. You'll see soon enough why their chocolate cream is suddenly unmatched."
The reporters stared, transfixed, as the golden yolk rested in the bowl — a quiet miracle from an ordinary chicken, transformed by Aten rice into something that looked like food fit for gods.
The reporter followed the farmer out of the poultry house, the faint golden sheen of the eggs still vivid in his mind. The farmer chuckled as he balanced a basket filled with the fresh eggs.
"Near here there's a small restaurant," he said. "They always use our eggs. Do you want to try?"
The camera crew exchanged excited glances. One of them muttered, "Raw eggs?" with a mix of curiosity and doubt.
The farmer nodded, smiling. "Yes. In Japan, it's normal. We eat them raw over rice. The eggs are so clean, so safe, there's no worry. And with Aten rice-fed chickens, the flavor is on another level."
Within minutes, they arrived at a rustic roadside eatery. The owner, an elderly woman with bright eyes, welcomed them warmly and set out bowls of steaming white Aten rice. She cracked one of the faintly golden eggs straight over the rice, the yolk gleaming in the sunlight. A dash of soy sauce, a quick stir, and the simple dish of Tamago Kake Gohan was ready.
The reporter hesitated, chopsticks hovering over the bowl. The aroma was subtle yet rich. Finally, he took a bite.
His eyes widened. "It's… so smooth. Creamy. And the taste—clean, almost sweet. Not heavy at all."
The farmer laughed. "That's the vitality inside the egg. Our hens don't just lay food. They lay health."
The cameraman tried next, then another member of the crew. Soon the whole group was eating eagerly, surprised that such a simple dish could feel so profound. The faint mana-laced warmth lingered in their bodies, leaving them refreshed.
The restaurant owner placed her hands on her hips proudly. "People come from far away just to eat these eggs. They say it makes their morning brighter, their energy last longer. For us, it's everyday life. For the world… maybe it's the future."
The farmer nodded, his tone quiet but firm. "Aten rice gave us abundance. But these eggs? They carry its blessing."
After finishing their first bowls, the crew looked at each other sheepishly — and then raised their hands almost in unison.
"Excuse me," one of them called to the owner. "Could we… order more? Maybe try some of your other dishes with these eggs?"
The old woman's smile widened. "Of course. You've only tasted the simplest way. Let me show you what else these eggs can do."
In minutes, steaming plates began arriving at the table:
Golden Omelet (Tamagoyaki) — its layers soft and fluffy, the faint golden sheen making it look like a sunrise cut into slices.Sukiyaki Hotpot — simmering beef and vegetables, with each crew member given a raw golden egg to dip the piping-hot meat into before eating.Chawanmushi — a delicate custard, so smooth it slid like silk across the tongue, infused with a subtle mana warmth.
The crew ate in silence at first, their expressions slowly shifting from surprise to pure delight.
"This omelet… it's sweet, but light."
"The beef dipped in egg feels richer, softer."
"This custard tastes like… comfort."
The reporter set down his chopsticks, laughing as he wiped his mouth. "We came here for a story about chickens… but I think we've stumbled onto the beginning of a whole new cuisine."
The farmer nodded knowingly. "When Aten rice feeds the hens, the eggs carry more than just nutrition. They carry mana. And when chefs work with them, you get food like this."
The restaurant owner added softly, "People come in for one bowl of rice. But they always order more. Always."
The camera zoomed out to capture the long table now covered in gleaming golden dishes, steam rising as the reporters kept eating with bright smiles, unable to stop.