At first it had been unpleasant, but as time passed, I grew curious as to why he had suddenly come to pick a fight and leave. But there was nowhere I could ask, and it would have been strange to call Warren while he was resting just to ask him about it. As I was wondering what to do, Chloe’s voice suddenly came from beside me.
“What are you thinking about?”
Chloe, who had just come out after class, stood there holding a thick major textbook.
“Ah... nothing much. Someone came to see me for a bit...”
Perhaps sensing that I didn’t want to talk about it, Chloe didn’t press me and let it pass. Then she bumped my shoulder lightly with hers and said,
“Do you know everyone was talking about you today?”
“Really?”
“They said some legendary person joined your winery, and that was all anyone could talk about. You’re going to become completely famous now.”
“... If the winery becomes famous, there’ll be advantages and disadvantages. The most representative advantage would be that demand for the wines we release will increase, which will drive up the price. As for secondary benefits, it’ll be easier to secure sub-wines or grapes for blending, and it’ll also be advantageous in distribution...”
“What about the disadvantages?”
“I suppose it would be that every wine we release has to satisfy people’s expectations.”
“That must be a burden.”
At her worried expression, I shrugged.
“Who knows? A professional is supposed to be judged in every aspect. It’s the same for people who do art, and when you sell food at a restaurant, you can’t escape the customers’ evaluations. Athletes go without saying.”
“Ah... right. We’re not kids.”
“Yeah. From the moment you and I each had our own farms, we stopped being children and became farm owners. From then on, we can’t act spoiled in front of our customers, and we can’t make excuses. We have to be evaluated by the results we put out, so feeling burdened just because expectations have risen? That’s not something that should happen. We should enjoy it instead. As an answer to ‘How much more delicious will it be?’ I’ll present the wine. Like, ‘How is it? Is it what you expected?’”
Chloe stared at me with wide eyes, then let out a soft exclamation.
“Ah... I see. You really are different. If it were other people, they’d probably think that way. They might be worried that they’ll be overshadowed by someone else, or that because of unnecessary expectations, they’ll be criticized if they fall a little short...”
“I’m not saying it’s bad to think that way. I just don’t think it’s a professional mindset. In that sense, the reason I welcomed Mr. Warren’s joining us was because of his ability. An ability I don’t have.”
“What is it?”
She asked with her large eyes sparkling.
“Hmm... instinct.”
“Instinct?”
“Yeah. When I deal with wine, I always think based on data. But Mr. Warren is a born genius. In the past, there weren’t systematic research results like there are now, so people had to rely on instinct for everything, and he’s someone who reached the pinnacle of that.”
“So you’re saying your data and Mr. Warren’s instincts will come together and create good synergy?”
“Yeah. That’s what I think.”
“Wow, I never even thought of that.”
“Of what?”
“I naturally thought you’d talk about the influence he has, or the things you want to learn from him... something like that. But you’re talking about how you can make good use of him, so I was a little surprised.”
“I can only say that because it’s you. I couldn’t say that in front of anyone else. It would make me look arrogant.”
I had meant that we were close and did business together, but Chloe’s face suddenly flushed red, and she hugged her textbook to her chest with a shy little twist of her body.
“Really? I can listen to anything you say...”
Only then did I realize she had interpreted it differently from me, but if I corrected her by saying that wasn’t what I meant, the atmosphere would turn strange, so I quickly sped up my pace. And behind me, Chloe hurried after me with quick little steps.
---
Time flew by, and on the day Warren first came to work, I took him around our vineyard.
“Now I’ll finally learn your... no, the boss’s wine philosophy and details properly. I’m looking forward to it very much.”
He used the word boss without hesitation. I found it awkward, but I was also a little surprised that there wasn’t a trace of pretense in his tone or expression.
“Weren’t people around you surprised that you’d be commuting to our winery?”
Warren waved his hand dismissively.
“Don’t even mention it. It was complete chaos. They asked if they’d be able to get my wine from Redwood now, so I told them that under my contract, I absolutely couldn’t do that. I also did an interview with a wine magazine, so things should calm down soon.”
If he had even given an official interview to explain things, then he had done all he could.
“... Actually, someone from Michel Wine came to see me.”
Startled, he frowned.
“What? Was it by any chance Brad Cooper?”
“Yes, that’s right.”
“Hmph! That sly bastard. What did he say? I bet he even gave you some clumsy warning in case I ended up making wine.”
“You know everything, don’t you?”
“It’s obvious. Just from the way he tempted my sons, I can see exactly what kind of man he is inside. Michel, which has secured a high market share and distribution network, must now want to produce quality wine, so with me entering another winery, of course they’d feel uneasy.”
“I understand that they’re uneasy, but... the way he spoke...”
“That’s their method. They deliberately provoke the other party’s emotions excessively. That way, they induce mistakes or make them afraid. If they inflate the power they possess as much as possible and apply pressure, most opponents fall for it.”
“You know it well.”
He chuckled.
“Do you think it was impressive when I first founded my winery? When I acquired the plum farm in Stag’s Leap and turned it into a vineyard, there were plenty of people who laughed at me. In particular, the French winery businesses looked down on me terribly. Everything changed with the Judgment of Paris, but before that, there was quite a lot of hardship.”
“Ah...”
“Do you regret bringing me in?”
“No, not particularly... This much can hardly be called hardship in business. Besides, I’m not interested in Mr. Warren’s blending secrets, so there shouldn’t be any situation where we get into trouble over the wine we release later.”
He suddenly stopped, ran his hand over the ground, and picked up a handful of soil.
“I felt it before too, but it really is strange. The soil here is different from other places... I don’t know how to put it, but it has moisture, and there are well-formed air spaces between the soil particles.”
Originally, soil made with biochar doesn’t have the hard and dense feel of an ordinary vineyard, but rather a fluffy structure. That alone differentiates the soil from other AVAs, and this was exactly why I had judged him to be a stranger before and prevented him from taking any soil.
“Hmm... I’ll say this again, but you know this is confidential, right?”
“I know. That’s why I signed the nondisclosure agreement.”
When he joined the company, he didn’t just sign an employment contract; he also signed a nondisclosure agreement stating that he would never leak anything he learned at the company to the outside. Since it was common for major wineries to have employees sign nondisclosure agreements in order to protect their own secrets, Warren showed no resistance to it at all.
“Good. This is called biochar. It’s made by burning various wood scraps, compost, and things like that into charcoal.”
“Into charcoal?”
“Yes. When wood is pyrolyzed with its oxygen supply almost completely cut off, only the carbon framework remains, and that’s charcoal. This structure has extremely high porosity—the ratio of empty space excluding solids in the soil to the total volume. So when you mix this with soil, the bulk density—the weight per unit volume of soil—decreases, and air circulation in the root layer becomes stable. To put it simply, it’s a structure that increases the efficiency of root respiration.”
If someone heard it for the first time, they might wonder what all that meant, but as a winemaker who had already reached the level of a viticulture professor, he immediately understood what I was saying. Then, greatly astonished, he touched the soil.
“I see... mixing charcoal and soil... Amazing. Since charcoal has a microstructure full of holes like a sponge, it would hold moisture for a long time, and with such high porosity, drainage would become much better too.”
In truth, biochar also increases CEC, or cation exchange capacity, improves pH stability, increases mycorrhizae and microorganisms, and helps maintain total organic carbon, or TOC, over the long term, but I didn’t say that much.
Because if I explained even that, he would ask whether there was evidence or research results to support the explanation.
“My God...”
He was already sufficiently astonished by just that level of effect, and then...
“That’s right! Since you used charcoal, the mycorrhizae—the symbiotic tissue formed by plant roots and fungi—would be activated!”
As expected, he was someone who could predict a certain amount on his own even without being told.
“Probably?”
“So that’s why you told me not to take the soil. Did you perhaps also lay down separate microorganisms here?”
“Yes...”
“... I’m curious, but let’s stop here for today. If I learn too much on the first day, it’ll take time to digest. I’ll have to open a chemistry book again for the first time in a while.”
Seeing how excited he looked, even though he seemed like an old man on the outside, it felt as if there was a child or a young man inside him.
“That’s right. There’s still a lot you need to know, so let’s leave the soil at that and go to the aging room.”
“I heard that only you can enter the aging room. Is there some tremendous secret in there?”
“You’ll know once you go in.”
At my words, he clenched both fists and quickened his steps. He looked just like a child running out after hearing that a toy had arrived.
When I opened the door to the aging room, the scent of metal and wine mingled together and pricked my nose. The moment Warren stepped inside, he spotted something and stopped walking.
“What is that?”
His gaze was fixed on a stainless-steel tank. Small modules were attached to the surface of the tank, and thin cables were connected with precision. The temperature, dissolved oxygen (DO), pH, and electrical conductivity (EC) sensors I had installed were blinking in real time.
“Are those... all real-time measurement devices?”
I nodded and approached the tank.
“That’s right. I’m quantifying every variable that occurs during fermentation.”
Warren furrowed his brow.
“Why on earth are you monitoring all of this? Wine’s reactions can be read well enough by instinct.”
I pointed to the tank’s monitoring display.
“That’s not wrong. But the people capable of doing that are a few geniuses and those close to them. If clear data close to the correct answer exists, then from now on, we can use that data to make wine that comes close to perfection.”
“Ha ha...”
“The yeast in grape juice changes its metabolic rate according to changes in temperature, oxygen, and sugar concentration. You know that, of course. This is a system that can be said to help us control those factors quantitatively and make wine of consistent quality.”
Warren had been staring in admiration, but then, as if he had suddenly realized something, he snapped his head toward me.
“Clear data close to the correct answer? There’s no way that exists yet, is there?”
“That’s right. It doesn’t exist yet.”
“Then this can be called the process of finding that clear data close to the correct answer.”
“That’s also right. Not only the aging system, but the artificially created soil can also be said to be an attempt at applying naturally formed To Kalon. Depending on what the grapes from there become, we’ll be able to secure clear data and create grapes close to the completed form.”
“My word...”
Aghast, Warren touched the stainless-steel tank with a hand that trembled faintly, then turned back to me.
“I understand why you hired me. You needed my instincts in the process of finding a wine close to the correct answer.”
“... That’s right.”
Suddenly, he burst into laughter.
“Hahahaha! This really is incredible! Those Michel bastards don’t know a thing, and they’re only worried that I might use my techniques here. Hahaha!”
After laughing heartily for a long while, he abruptly stopped and looked straight into my eyes.
“Thank you for giving me something to do before I die. I don’t know how many wines I’ll make before I close my eyes for good, but I’ll do my very best.”
“Let’s do well together.”
“Just trust me, Master.”