In the misty morning fields, Randa swept his hands across the soil, trimming wild branches and pulling out weeds with swift yet precise movements. Every motion seemed practiced, a testament to the hard work born of his love for nature.
The scorching sun beat down on his back like a whip, yet Randa remained unfazed. The sweat soaking his shirt was proof of his effort, while the smile on his face reflected the joy he felt.
After a while, the young man finally paused to take a break, gulping down the water he had brought with him.
Glup!
"Ahhh… that quenched my thirst instantly. If only I had known about Tirtha sooner, my muscles would've been as hard as stone by now. I feel like I could keep working until nightfall!" Randa thought, amazed at how a single sip of Tirtha water could wash away both thirst and fatigue.
After a short rest, he returned to tidying up the corners of his field.
He became so absorbed in farming that he lost track of time. Even the blazing midday sun didn't bother him.
While he was busy, his father arrived carrying a hoe, watching him with a worried look.
"Randa, let's go home. Your mother's already made lunch!"
Startled by how quickly time had passed, Randa brushed it off and hurried after his father.
It didn't take long for him to catch up. Seeing his son drenched in sweat, Faisal frowned slightly, his concern evident.
"So? Is farming tough?" Faisal asked.
Randa just smiled. "Not at all, Dad. Honestly, it feels pretty easy…"
He knew the real reason it felt effortless was the Tirtha water he had drunk.
Faisal had the urge to scold him, worried that Randa was underestimating farm work. But then he realized that lately even he himself had found the work strangely easier. The words he wanted to speak stuck in his throat.
What he didn't know was that Randa had secretly built a small distillery for the Tirtha water. He had been mixing it into all the food and drinks the family consumed, so its benefits were gradually taking root in their bodies.
To break the silence, Randa quickly changed the subject.
"So, Dad, have we collected enough cow manure for the compost?"
Faisal blinked, then answered his son's question.
They walked home together, chatting lightly.
At home, Randa was greeted with a warm meal prepared by his mother. As soon as they arrived, Siti urged them to wash their hands.
"Come on, wash up first, then eat!"
Faisal and Randa obeyed.
The three of them sat down to eat—just the three, since Nisa was still at school.
Randa couldn't help but eat heartily. Lately, his mother's cooking had tasted far better than before.
"Wow, this is delicious!" Randa praised.
"Yeah, looks like your cooking's really improved," Faisal added.
Siti beamed at the compliments from her husband and son. Who wouldn't enjoy being praised—especially a wife and mother?
Yet deep down, she was puzzled. The food had indeed been tasting better these days, though her cooking skills hadn't changed, nor had the ingredients.
Still, she didn't dwell on it. She ate with a joyful heart, warmed by her family's praise and the flavor of the food itself.
Had Randa known her thoughts, he would've chuckled. He knew well how magical Tirtha water was—it didn't just benefit the body, it even made food taste better.
It had only been a few days since he realized how extraordinary the water truly was. Unlike ordinary skills—carpentry, masonry, winemaking, or other labor—Tirtha water seemed to bring miracles into the real world.
The atmosphere at the table was warm and pleasant at first, but gradually grew heavy.
His parents exchanged meaningful glances, occasionally looking at Randa with hesitation.
At first, Randa didn't notice, but eventually he picked up on the strange mood.
"What is it, Mom, Dad?" he asked curiously.
Siti was startled, then glanced at her husband. Faisal gave a small nod.
With some hesitation, Siti asked, "Randa, are you having any problems? If you are, just tell us. We'll help however we can."
Randa froze, shocked. For a moment, he thought they had found out he'd been blacklisted from his company. Panic rose—how could they know?
Seeing him silent, Siti grew more anxious. "Is something wrong at work? Why have you been home all the time lately, instead of going to your job?"
Randa was taken aback, then realized they didn't know anything about the blacklist. They had simply misunderstood because he had been farming so much.
He smiled faintly. "No, Mom, there's no problem. I just want to try my luck. I studied agriculture—seems like a waste not to use it. With my factory experience, I'm confident I can stand on my own. Besides, agriculture is booming right now."
Siti still looked doubtful. "Really, no problem at all?"
"None at all, Mom. Don't worry. If things don't work out in six months, I'll go back to job hunting."
Though still uneasy, Siti and Faisal could only offer quiet support.
Randa felt warmed by their concern. His mother's bluntness, his father's silent worry—it reminded him that he was never truly alone.
After eating and resting a while, Randa and Faisal returned to the fields.
This time, Randa didn't tend the crops. Instead, he helped his father gather cow manure.
Once they had enough, Faisal planned to make compost following instructions from The Book of Long Life.
Intrigued, Randa suggested, "Let me do it, Dad. You can just fetch the other materials."
Faisal agreed without objection.
Randa began processing the manure according to the book's methods.
At first, he was stiff and awkward—it had been a long time since he'd done this, and he had to recall the steps. But soon, he grew more comfortable. His movements became as natural as if he had been doing it for years.
Unaware of the passage of time, Randa became fully immersed in the process, as though he were an expert.
Watching his son's skill, Faisal couldn't help but stare in awe. The wrinkles of worry on his forehead eased as he quietly stepped aside to smoke, observing in silence.
For the first time, Faisal's doubts about Randa's dream of farming began to fade. Seeing how capable he was, he wondered if perhaps his son had always wanted this, secretly preparing himself before finally coming home to pursue agriculture.
He even questioned whether pushing Randa toward a formal career in the first place had been a mistake.
Meanwhile, Randa remained oblivious to his father's thoughts. Lost in his work, he even mixed in diluted Tirtha water to enhance the compost.
After some time, the job was done—neat and well-organized, all by Randa's own hands.
When he finished, Randa snapped out of it, as if waking from a trance.
"Huh… what just happened?" he muttered.
Trying to recall the process, he whispered, "Wait… am I really still able to do this?"
It turned out that his skill, Bootleg Liquor Maker Lv.1, had activated during the composting. Thanks to it, every stage of fermentation had been carried out expertly—so much so that his father had completely misunderstood.
Realizing this, Randa couldn't hold back a wide grin.
"Hahaha! Looks like I don't have to worry about this odd skill anymore. Since it optimizes fermentation, I can make compost—and even silage for the cows—far better than before!" His eyes gleamed with excitement.
Seeing his son so happy, Faisal felt a pang of regret. He thought about how harshly he'd once pressured Randa, and now here his son was, overjoyed just by making compost.
"Alright, let's head home. It's getting late—your mother must be waiting," Faisal said, breaking Randa's euphoria.
Still brimming with joy, Randa packed up and went home with his father.
...
The next day, Randa prepared to continue farming. But suddenly, his phone—long neglected since he'd been busy in the fields—rang.
Ring!
He quickly answered.
"RANDA!"
The shrill voice of a middle-aged woman blared so loudly that even Faisal, nearby, turned in surprise.
Randa pulled the phone away from his ear but still listened.
"Uh… yes, Ma'am. I'm sorry, I completely forgot," he replied apologetically.
The landlady scolded him a little longer before hanging up.
With a sigh of relief, Randa ended the call.
Faisal, watching him, asked, "What was that about?"
"My landlady. She was asking why I haven't shown up, and said the rent hasn't been paid."
Faisal simply nodded.
"In that case, Dad, I'll go take care of it."
"Alright, be careful."
Randa got ready. Before leaving, he made a quick call, then booked an online ride to the city.
When he arrived at his boarding house, he found two of his friends smoking and chatting in a pickup truck.
The driver was stocky with dark skin, while the one beside him was leaner, with lighter brown skin.
Randa walked over.
"Hey, have you guys been waiting long? Sorry if I kept you," he said.
Agung and Rizky turned, smiling as they greeted him with a handshake.
"No worries, we just got here," Agung said.
"Yeah, it's our day off anyway. Nothing better to do," Rizky added.
"Oh, perfect then. Give me a sec—I'll talk to the landlady first," Randa said.
They nodded.
Soon after, Randa came back. "Alright, we're good. Let's move."
Agung and Rizky helped him load his things.
Since he planned to focus on farming for now, Randa had decided to end his rental contract and move back in with his parents.
Once everything was packed neatly in the truck bed, he handed over the keys to his landlady, thanked her, and apologized for any trouble.
The woman's face showed a hint of melancholy, but she let him go without complaint.
The drive home felt bittersweet for Randa. He realized this move marked the beginning of a new chapter. Whether this journey would bear fruit or not, he didn't yet know.
But slowly, the melancholy gave way—replaced by a burning spirit and unwavering optimism.