Chapter 13: Taking a Chance

[Tasting authentic Luberon specialty wine increases happiness by 2 points]

The voice made Ronan pause briefly.

When drinking wine produced by the Morli Cooperative Winery, the system also referred to it as “Luberon specialty wine.”

Could it be that “Luberon specialty wine” does not denote a single type of wine?

Moreover, when drinking wine from the Morli Cooperative, the system only granted one happiness point, but this time it gave two.

Ronan speculated that the amount of happiness granted by the system was related to the taste and quality of the wine.

He drank four glasses in a row, stopping only when the system ceased to respond.

This was a protective mechanism of the system: after experiencing the same happiness-inducing event a certain number of times in a short period, no further experience points would be granted.

“I like your drinking style,” Theo said with a look of approval.

Among farmers, there was a saying—those who drink with openness also act with openness.

Who wouldn’t want to befriend someone so straightforward?

Ronan’s reaction left Theo even more astonished.

He asked enthusiastically, “Any other recommendations? I’d like to try something different.”

Ronan had found a new way to boost his happiness—drinking wine!

Even with the protective mechanism in place, he could just vary the flavors.

Given the same drinking capacity, it was naturally better to drink wines that granted more happiness points. Theo, the wine aficionado, was entrusted with the important task of exploring this for him.

“So, what other good wines do you have?” Ronan asked.

Theo’s impression of Ronan improved further.

“The moment I saw you drinking on the tractor, I knew we’d be friends! There are a few varieties you’ll definitely like...”

That night.

Ronan’s jacket had somehow gone missing, and his shirt buttons were askew.

He and Theo linked arms, dancing and singing popular songs with abandon, each clutching their favorite red wine glass.

Other patrons in the old tavern cheered them on as if watching star performers, calling out, “One more song!”

Theo’s eyes narrowed to slits as he swayed, struggling to keep his balance.

“Ronan, you’re the best singing farmer in Lurmalan village!”

Ronan drained his glass of red wine and shouted with gusto, “No, I want to be the best truffle hunter in Lurmalan village!”

Pierre, finishing his day’s work and returning to the village, whistled.

“Not sure about the best truffle hunter, but we’ve definitely got a new village drunkard!”

---

That kid really listens—choosing such a ‘Provençal’ way to fit in.

Pierre liked the young man more and more.

...

Lurmalan village had fewer than a thousand residents. After just two days of visiting the old tavern, Ronan’s reputation as a ‘drunkard’ spread throughout the village.

When Vierie met Ronan sober, he teased him jokingly.

“Not going drinking today?”

Ronan smiled and greeted him.

“Got some serious business today.”

Vierie shrugged with a mischievous grin.

“I thought drinking was your business.”

Ronan said nothing in response but took the car keys from him.

“Serious business doesn’t have to be just one thing. Thank Louis for me—I’ll return the car before dinner.”

They said their goodbyes, and Ronan got into the driver’s seat of the old two-door Citroën, leaving Lurmalan village behind.

After two days of drinking, he had successfully accumulated 100 happiness points and upgraded his “Harvesting” skill to level 2.

Along with the upgrade came many new methods for harvesting crops appearing in his mind, including techniques for truffles that didn’t require animal assistance and could be done alone.

He immediately called Louis to borrow a car, planning to try his luck.

The Luberon Mountains were dotted with oak trees, each potentially hiding treasures beneath. However, areas near the village had likely been searched by other hunters. Ronan’s destination was a remote, rarely trodden spot.

He drove for over two hours, then hiked for an hour before finally finding a ‘target area.’

The oak trees here were not dense, and he found no footprints along the way. Ronan began his search.

First, he carefully examined the ground beneath each oak for circular patches where no grass grew.

According to the knowledge in his mind, truffles emit a herbicidal element that makes it difficult for grass to grow where they mature.

After more than twenty minutes of exhaustive searching, he found an oak tree that fit the conditions!

Nearby, he broke off a pine branch, trimmed away excess needles, leaving just a few at the tip, fashioning it into a small brush.

Then, carefully, he walked the area, brushing the ground with this pine-made brush.

Suddenly, as Ronan swept over a certain spot, a startled fly shot straight out, nearly hitting his face.

Quick as a flash, Ronan stuck the pine branch where the fly had emerged, dropped to his knees, and began digging devoutly.

He could clearly hear his heartbeat because every sign so far met the conditions for truffle growth.

The scent of truffles not only attracted humans but also flies—so much so that they liked to lay their eggs on them!

After digging about ten centimeters, Ronan caught an exhilarating scent.

His movements grew even more cautious as he dug another ten centimeters or so before finally seeing a black object.

---

“That’s you!”

Overwhelmed with excitement, Ronan still remembered the key points of truffle harvesting.

Pulling it out directly would damage the truffle and reduce its value.

He dug away the surrounding soil, making sure the entire truffle was free from stones or roots pressing on it before lifting it out.

It was a black truffle the size of a tennis ball—quite large compared to many truffles the size of peanuts on the market.

“Definitely at least half a pound,” Ronan weighed it twice, shouting excitedly, “This is 500 francs!”

Seeing this method worked, Ronan continued his search.

He found five more, though none as large as the first.

Since returning would take some time, Ronan memorized the location and retraced his steps.

This was now his secret garden; there would surely be more opportunities to return.

...

After returning the car to Louis’s house, Ronan went back to the old tavern.

He sat in his usual spot at the bar and ordered a glass of red wine, overhearing Pierre and his group nearby discussing truffles.

Curious, Ronan raised his glass and approached them.

On the way, he was embraced by a heavily intoxicated Theo, who couldn’t walk straight.

“They’re talking about the truffle competition over there. Don’t bother going—none of it concerns us.”

Ronan clinked his glass against Theo’s and smiled.

“It may not concern you, but it concerns me.”

Theo chuckled a few times, swaying as he loudly declared,

“Our good friend Ronan actually still holds unrealistic hopes about the truffle contest. Let me take a tally—tomorrow, everyone decides what drinks he has to buy! I’ll start—I want a glass of white wine from the Nist Cellar!”

Theo’s antics caught everyone’s attention, and many joined in ordering drinks.

It was the village custom: farmers who won nothing in the contest had to buy drinks for everyone.

“Thanks, Ronan!” Pierre led the cheers.

Amid the rising waves of cheer, Ronan slowly opened the bag he hadn’t yet returned home.

“The thanks go to Theo’s suggestion. I’ve decided that tomorrow, he’ll buy me a glass of white wine from the Nist Cellar!”

Though the tavern was dimly lit, countless heads leaned in.

It was the scent of truffles!