Gardener of Eden

Chapter 180: Chapter 180: World Champion

As the three-hour timer hit zero, a deep, resonant chime echoed throughout the Grand Alpine Botanical Arena, signaling the official end of the Herbology and Life-Cultivation Trials.

The vast holographic displays floating above the Colosseum flickered, consolidating the final scores from both the Under-21 Division and the Senior Division onto a single, massive global leaderboard.

A breathless silence fell over the entire stadium as the final rankings locked in.

At the very top, towering above hundreds of world-renowned cultivators, veteran botanists, and aristocratic prodigies, Rowan’s name burned in brilliant, unshakeable gold:

[GLOBAL GRAND CHAMPION: Rowan Vance — Sol-Aethel Empire] [Specimen Status: Silphium (Flourishing Shoot)] [Purity Score: 100% — Primordial Grade SSS]

The disparity was staggering. Even in the Senior Division—where grandmasters with decades of cultivation experience had competed—the highest purity score achieved was barely 68%. Senior cultivators from foreign sovereign realms had managed to unseal their seeds, but their energy channels, burdened by decades of absorbing high-grade medicinal pills and mineral-heavy elixirs, had inevitably bled microscopic traces of slag into the soil.

Not a single person in either division, regardless of age or background, had come close to matching Rowan’s flawless 100% purity.

The stadium erupted into a deafening roar. Spectators leapt to their feet, and international media feeds burned with breaking headlines across every major realm. The young harvester from Eden International had not only won his division—he had thoroughly swept the entire global discipline, outcultivating the world’s most venerated grandmasters with a performance that defied modern botanical science.

Up in the judges’ balcony, the senior Swiss official brought his hands together in slow, heavy applause, his eyes fixed on the pristine, golden-green seedling thriving on Rowan’s plot.

”Unbelievable...” the official murmured into his microphone, his voice broadcasting across the stadium. ”A legendary, extinct seed revived to one hundred percent perfection... Ladies and gentlemen, we have witnessed history today! The ultimate Grand Prize of the Life-Cultivation Division belongs to Rowan Vance of the Sol-Aethel Empire!”

Beside Rowan, Jeremy let out a loud laugh, clapping Rowan firmly on the back. ”A hundred percent! You completely outclassed the Senior Division, brother! The look on those old grandmasters’ faces is worth more than all the gold in Atlantis.”

Across the arena floor, Tian Yu bowed his head in quiet, respectful defeat, acknowledging the insurmountable gap between their paths. Further down, Gabriel Bernard slumped against his console, staring numbly at the floor as his entourage scrambled to retreat from the public eye.

Tipping the brim of his Enchanted Straw Hat, Rowan offered a calm, humble bow to the roaring crowd, a serene smile resting on his lips.

He didn’t need to say a word. As Swiss adjudicators brought forward the grand championship trophy and the ancient Atlantean botanical registry, the global message was crystal clear: Eden International was no longer just a rising producer—it was the undisputed apex authority on uncorrupted life in the world.

***

The global broadcast had barely transitioned to commercial sponsors before the digital realm completely fractured under the weight of Rowan’s historic victory.

Across every continent, millions of viewers—from battle-weary guild masters nursing chronic meridian strain to sovereign ministers, high-tier mages, and wealthy aristocratic patriarchs—simultaneously pulled up their terminals, comm-links, and personal arrays to search for one specific name: Eden International.

The frenzy was immediate and unprecedented. Millions upon millions of desperate requests flooded the network per second. Everyone wanted access to the uncorrupted, slag-free produce that could achieve what modern medicine had failed to do for centuries.

Within three minutes of the Swiss official declaring Rowan the Grand Champion, Eden International’s global web servers lit up like a dying star, maxed out their bandwidth buffers, and utterly collapsed.

A stark black screen displaying a server overload error message greeted buyers from Tokyo to London, and the portal remained dead for the next twenty-four hours straight.

Down on the arena floor, as the glittering grand championship trophy was handed to Rowan, Jeremy’s comm-link buzzed uncontrollably, vibrating like a live wire in his pocket. Pulling out his device, Jeremy stared at the screen, his eyes widening as a flood of frantic notifications from their backend team and Chef Julian flashed in rapid succession.

”Rowan,” Jeremy choked out, half-laughing in sheer disbelief as he showed him the glowing comm-display. ”Our web host’s customer service team is currently having a collective heart attack. The site’s domain host just registered over eight hundred million ping requests in under five minutes. Our entire digital storefront is completely melted down. They say the servers won’t even be able to reboot until tomorrow afternoon!”

Rowan accepted the heavy, crystalline trophy with a smooth, effortless grip, the golden Silphium sprout resting safely in its portable stasis field beside him. He adjusted the brim of his Enchanted Straw Hat, looking at the dead web status on Jeremy’s screen with a calm, amused smirk.

”Let it stay down,” Rowan said smoothly, his eyes flashing with quiet, strategic satisfaction. ”Scarcity creates anticipation. When every major faction on Earth spends the next twenty-four hours staring at a crashed website, they’ll only be hungrier for what we have when the doors open again.”

Up in the sovereign VIP boxes, high-ranking delegates were already abandoning their seats, abandoning all pretense of decorum as they hurried toward the Imperial delegation area in a desperate bid to land pre-orders directly through official diplomatic channels. Foreign envoys, trade representatives, and even representative elders from defeated factions were practically shoving past one another to secure an audience.

As the roar of the crowd echoed through the Swiss Colosseum, Rowan handed his trophy to Jeremy, looking out over the sea of frantic international elites with absolute poise.

Eden International had arrived on the world stage—not just as a vendor of high-quality produce, but as the sole holder of a revolutionary key that the entire world was now burning to possess.

***

The crash of Eden International’s digital storefront was merely the first domino to fall in an unprecedented global frenzy.

With the website offline and standard commercial avenues completely choked, the world’s culinary elite abandoned standard business protocols entirely. Within hours of the trial’s conclusion, Imperial embassies and trade ministries across every continent were bombarded by urgent diplomatic cables, aristocratic letters of intent, and high-priority corporate petitions.

Executive head chefs from three-Michelin-starred establishments, legendary culinary grandmasters, and royal banquet masters were pulling every string imaginable. Their singular objective: securing commercial permits, diplomatic visas, and prime real estate in Sol-Aethel City to open flagship branch restaurants.

To these culinary titans, Rowan’s triumph wasn’t just a victory for life-cultivation—it was a seismic shift in global gastronomy. The opening luncheon hosted by Chef Julian had already given the world’s elite a terrifying glimpse of what Eden produce could achieve. A single dish prepared with Rowan’s uncorrupted ingredients could heal micro-scarred meridians, soothe lingering core heat, and deliver a depth of flavor so vibrant that standard high-end cuisine tasted like ash by comparison.

Every master chef on Earth realized the exact same truth: any fine-dining establishment operating without access to Eden International’s supply chain was headed for irrelevance. To stay at the pinnacle of the culinary world, they had to establish a footprint in Sol-Aethel City, right next to Eden’s primary distribution hub and flagship storefront.

Inside the private Imperial reception lounge, Chef Julian joined Rowan and Jeremy via a high-definition holographic comm-link from his kitchen back in the capital. The master chef looked equal parts exhausted and wildly vindicated, a massive grin plastered across his face.

”Rowan, my private line hasn’t stopped ringing for three hours,” Julian laughed, shaking his head as he wiped his hands on his apron. ”Culinary icons in Paris, Tokyo, and Geneva—men and women who previously swore they would never open a restaurant outside their home nations—are practically begging me for introductions. They are offering to personally oversee kitchen builds in Sol-Aethel City by next month!”

”They know that even a simple appetizer crafted with your Sun-Dappled Tomatoes or Primordial Dew Lettuce will effortlessly outclass a ten-course tasting menu anywhere else on the planet,” Julian added, his eyes sparkling with professional pride. ”The entire global culinary hierarchy is re-centering itself around Sol-Aethel City.”

Jeremy flicked through an encrypted ledger on his terminal, whistling in awe at the staggering figures being offered for commercial lease agreements in the capital’s central district.

”Real estate values in Sol-Aethel City just skyrocketed by forty percent in a single afternoon,” Jeremy noted, looking over at Rowan with immense respect. ”Foreign ministers and wealthy merchant houses are buying up entire commercial blocks near our flagship storefront just to guarantee their personal chefs get first pick of our daily morning yields.”

Rowan leaned back in his leather armchair, the golden Silphium seedling resting safely in its stasis glass beside him. He adjusted the brim of his Enchanted Straw Hat, a calm, calculating smirk playing on his lips.

”Let them come,” Rowan said smoothly, his eyes glowing with quiet ambition. ”If the world’s greatest culinary masters want to anchor their flagship restaurants in Sol-Aethel City, we will grant them supply quotas—strictly on our terms. Eden International won’t just dictate the agricultural market. We are turning Sol-Aethel City into the undisputed global capital of culture, longevity, and vitality.” 𝘧𝓇ℯℯ𝑤ℯ𝘣𝓃ℴ

”You’re using vegetables to achieve total geopolitical soft power,” Jeremy chuckled, shaking his head in admiration. ”Foreign royals and high-tier cultivators won’t just visit the Empire for diplomacy anymore—they’ll relocate their entire households to Sol-Aethel City just to eat at the local tables.”

”Quality always reshapes the world, Senior,” Rowan replied gently, taking a slow sip of spring water. ”And when the world hungers for perfection, they will have no choice but to come to our doorstep.”