Kai's morning started the way it always did: with silence.
No music. No alarms. No phone buzz.
Just chickens clucking softly and wind brushing through the grass like it knew it wasn't welcome.
He stepped out onto the porch, holding a carton of freshly gathered eggs. Eleven total. Four of them had triple yolks. He didn't even flinch anymore.
He cracked one into a skillet — deep yellow, almost orange, thick as jelly. The kind of egg you had to cut more than scramble.
The pan sizzled, the smell hit, and Kai sat down with his notebook and a mug of black coffee. Before he could take a bite, his phone lit up.
New Email: Mark B. – Merge Grown Eggs
He opened it.
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Subject: Merge Grown Eggs – Strong but Weird
Hey, I've been buying your eggs at the market. Love the flavor, but I started getting super jittery after eating two in the morning. Like, I don't even need coffee anymore. My trainer told me to cut back because I'm lifting heavier without realizing it. You putting something in them? They feel… too strong.
Let me know, bro. I like your stuff, but I need to know what I'm eating.
– Mark
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Kai raised an eyebrow and set the email down.
He didn't put anything in his food.
He just let nature do its thing — better feed, cleaner environments, more efficient animals and crops. And yeah, maybe the nutrition was more concentrated. Maybe his eggs gave people more than they were used to.
He picked up the skillet, took a bite, and chewed slowly.
Rich. Heavy. Satisfying in a way that didn't just fill — it fueled.
He wiped his fingers on a rag and replied:
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Hey Mark,
Appreciate you reaching out. Everything I sell is 100% natural — no additives, no chemicals, no hormones, no shortcuts. I raise my birds on clean feed and keep them in low-stress, sanitary environments.
That said, these eggs are a little richer than what most folks are used to — higher protein, more omega-3s, stronger nutrient density. If you're eating two in one sitting, your body might be reacting to that boost. Try cutting back to one and balancing it with some carbs or greens.
If it still feels too much, let me know. I've got lighter batches available. Appreciate the support.
– Kai, Merge Grown
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Simple. Honest. No mention of the system. He didn't owe the world an explanation for how — only what.
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By noon, a familiar rumble came up the drive.
A Subaru. Beat-up, dusty, camera gear in the backseat.
Kai stepped off the porch before the door even opened.
The woman who stepped out wore jeans, boots, and a zip-up fleece. Hair tied up. No makeup.
"Mr. Rowen?"
"Yeah."
"Jenna Wills. Clean Life Quarterly. I emailed your website about a feature. Didn't get a reply, so I figured I'd come in person."
Kai crossed his arms. "I don't do press."
"I get that. But people are talking about your eggs like they're miracle food. Lettuce, too. Word's traveling fast."
He didn't smile. "Food talks louder than headlines."
She grinned. "Mind if I ask a few questions while I take photos?"
He looked her over. No clipboard. No corporate logo. No fake smile.
He nodded once. "Follow me."
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She walked the land, snapping pictures. Coop interiors. Nesting trays. The lettuce plots. The water barrels he'd rigged from salvaged drums. The rusted cooler converted into solar-chilled storage.
Kai barely spoke unless she asked something direct.
"How many chickens?"
"Eleven. All layers."
"Any pesticides on your greens?"
"None. Just compost and filtered water."
"Where'd you learn all this?"
"Didn't. Just worked the land 'til it worked back."
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She cracked an egg into a tin camping pan over her portable burner. The yolk hit like it was forged from gold.
Her eyes widened as it cooked.
She ate it plain. No salt. No pepper.
After the first bite, she didn't speak for thirty seconds.
Then she whispered, "That… doesn't taste like food. That tastes like health."
Kai just leaned against a post and said nothing.
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She left just after sunset, promising to write something "honest." He didn't care about press — but the more people knew, the more he sold, and the more he could build.
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Two days later, her article hit online.
"The Egg King of Nowhere: How a Farmboy Built Nutrient Powerhouses Without a Single Investor"
By Jenna Wills
Clean Life Quarterly
The article exploded.
It landed on wellness blogs, prepper sites, keto forums, and organic living Facebook groups.
Orders tripled in two days.
The website's inbox filled. People wanted subscriptions. Meal plans. Lettuce crates. Pre-boiled eggs in bulk.
One man even asked if Kai could sell him fertility-enhancing breakfast kits.
Kai ignored that one.
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But something else came with the surge.
Another visit.
This time, a black SUV pulled up the gravel drive. No dust. No plates.
Two men stepped out — one in boots, the other in business shoes.
The one in boots spoke first.
"Nice place. Heard you're doing good work here."
Kai didn't answer.
The suit stepped up.
"I represent a regional food distribution company. Small, focused, discreet. We help guys like you scale up and reach real customers."
Kai's eyes narrowed. "I reach real customers already."
"Sure. A few dozen. We're talking thousands. We've got cold chain logistics, restaurants in five states, and the ability to get your brand into high-end health stores."
"Not interested."
The suit didn't flinch. "That's the kind of attitude that holds people back."
Kai stepped closer.
"No. That's the kind that keeps people free."
The man in boots chuckled.
"Freedom's expensive, kid."
Kai stared him down. "So's control. And I don't sell either."
They left without another word.
Kai watched until the SUV vanished into the road's dust.
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That night, Kai sat on the porch, notebook in lap, and wrote the next plan.
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Phase III: Lock In and Level Up
• Expand coop to support 20 hens
• Merge lettuce beds → 6 beds of Gourmet Cluster
• Launch subscription waitlist
• Paper form and email confirmation only
• Hand-pick 50 loyal customers
• No third parties, no investors, no outsiders
Long-Term: Control Production → Control Distribution → Control Price
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He tapped the page.
Then whispered the new mantra:
"Don't feed their system.
Feed the people.
And own the future."