The day after the Witch's relocation, Roland summoned Barov, the town hall director, to his office.
"I need you to post a job advertisement," he pushed the draft document toward the other party. "A week-long temporary position, about ten people needed, preferably women." Barov picked up the paper and examined it carefully. "Your Highness, may I ask what starch... is?" "Do you know what wheat flour is?" The steward hesitated. "Are you referring to coarse flour or refined flour? Wheat grains can be ground into bread or baked into flatbread, but what you're eating is the refined flour that has been further sieved to remove bran. The latter yields only 60% of the former's output, produces softer bread, but is extremely expensive—only the Great Nobles can afford it." What Roland found most satisfying about this former Chancellor of the Exchequer's assistant was his thorough understanding of various grassroots commodities. Due to underdeveloped agriculture and food scarcity, the same food was consumed in entirely different ways across social strata. Take wheat, for example—the common folk would boil the husked grains into porridge to maximize food utilization, though some leftover husks and sand would also be cooked together, often resulting in a crunchy, gritty texture.
The Noble family, however, had their own set of rules. They would have the wheat grains sifted to remove sand and stones, ground into coarse flour, and then baked into bread and flatbreads for consumption.
The upper echelons of society are the affluent Noble class, for whom food transcends mere sustenance—it becomes a pursuit of exquisite taste. In the kitchen, wheat flour undergoes a meticulous sieving process to remove bran, yielding a pristine white flour. The resulting bread, baked to a golden-brown hue, boasts an exceptionally smooth texture and a sweetness that surpasses ordinary bread.
"Starch is produced through further refinement of refined wheat flour," Roland shrugged. "Once we have staff, I'll have them explain the exact process." "Refine? Refine?" Barov's eyes widened. "That would consume tons of wheat." "I don't need much—three or four hundred kilograms..." Roland paused before adding, "A basket the size of my desk would suffice." He nodded and continued, "Why do you insist on hiring women?" "Because they're more meticulous. And I want to see more women in the workforce rather than staying at home," Roland suddenly realized. "The universal education program in Border Town seems to be progressing faster with female classes." "True, though the Education Department is led by Ms.Shujuan. Beyond childcare and household chores, they have limited skills, so most of their time is spent learning literacy." "Given that, I require that after the next assessment cycle, the city hall under your jurisdiction must hire female apprentices and gradually increase the proportion of women in positions," Roland instructed.
"Your Highness, this... has no precedent," Barov frowned. "In terms of meticulousness alone, my apprentice is no less capable than any woman." "If there's no precedent, create one," Roland stated bluntly. "This is the simplest and quickest way to expand the workforce without increasing the total population. If all women could take on the task of building the town, my available manpower could double. All you need to do is guide people to change their mindset—given attractive compensation, I believe they would step forward one by one." After Barov left, Nightingale chuckled in Prince's ear. "What's your next culinary creation?" "Starch? No, it's not meant to be eaten," Roland sipped his tea. "Though it does yield a decent ingredient during processing." Soak refined wheat flour in water, knead and wash it until the water turns completely white, then replace with fresh water. The remaining sticky substance is gluten, perfect for frying or stir-frying. It has a tender, elastic texture. When served, it's best drizzled with honey or sprinkled with spices.
But Roland isn't focused on food.
After filtering the milky white liquid and letting it settle, the resulting sediment is starch, the primary ingredient for making explosives.
Before nitroglycerin had even been tested and T.N.T. was unimaginable, nitrate starch emerged as the most accessible high-explosive material. Its production process mirrored that of nitrocellulose. The final product was highly sensitive—unignorable by open flames and requiring detonators for detonation—yet its explosive power surpassed T.N.T. During the two World Wars, it was widely used as a substitute for the latter.
With high-purity starch available, the alchemical apprentices who had mastered the nitrocellulose production process could likely produce a batch of nitrocellulose starch swiftly.
After lunch, Roland was about to go back to his room for a nap when a sudden knock sounded at the office door.
Most likely, Anna was the one who came to him at this time. His heart raced twice—could it be that he had fallen asleep from exhaustion the previous time, which is why he chose to come at noon this time?
"Come in." The door creaked open, and Roland froze in surprise—the one standing outside was Evelyn.
Hmm... This didn't quite match her expectations. He cleared his throat and offered a warm smile, "Need anything?" She approached the table, bowing nervously, "Your Highness, I have a question." Was it that old question again— "Why are you so kind to Witch?" —or was it his God-like compassion for the LGBTQ+ community? He smiled gently, "What's the question? Go ahead." "Why... why did you choose me for Border Town?" Roland's face turned pale. Was she complaining about the wine?
"My skills aren't as refined as Sylvie's, nor as practical as Lian and Honey's," she murmured. "But for wine tasting, a monthly salary of one Golden Dragon's worth could hire a professional winemaker from the capital." "What do you think of those wines..." "They start out too fiery, but gradually become tolerable. Those mixed wines with ice cubes, fruit juice, and sugar water offer richer flavors. That's just my personal opinion," Evelyn replied cautiously. "Our tavern only sells cheap wine and diluted wheat beer. As for the Nobles' preferences... I'm not sure." Prince let out a quiet sigh of relief, realizing he wasn't doubting the wine's quality. He stood up, opened the bookshelf, and took out a jar of wheat beer from the top shelf, placing it before Evelyn. "Can you convert this wheat beer into my distilled liquor?" "I think... it should be fine," she said, extending her hands to hold the jar. Soon, the murky wine began to change. As bubbles rose, the wheat beer grew clearer, eventually becoming as transparent as water. But Roland already caught the rich aroma of alcohol. He eagerly dipped his finger into the liquid, tasting the bitter and hot sensation—exactly the taste of high-proof liquor.
Roland couldn't help but laugh. "That's exactly why I chose you." He patted his hands and said, "I'm planning to open an alcohol factory... or rather, a winery. Would you like to be my chief winemaker?"