The dawn at Redwood Winery after the victory party had swept through was almost painfully quiet. The sweet scent of champagne spilled the day before and the smoky aroma of barbecue had been washed away by the morning dew, and in their place settled once more the cool, musty smell of earth unique to Napa Valley.
Having not drunk much the previous night, I stood among the vineyards with a clear head and no hangover. Around thirty workers and crew foremen who had gathered since daybreak were looking at me with their shoulders hunched. Dad was among them, and farther back in the darkness, Warren Winiarski stood with his cane, watching this strange dawn assembly with interest.
“Now, everyone, please pay attention.”
At my voice, the murmuring workers closed their mouths. I pointed to the boxes at my feet. Instead of shears or saws, they were filled with dozens of vernier calipers and small flags in red, blue, and yellow.
“Starting today, Redwood’s winter management will be carried out in a completely different way from before. Before we begin pruning, we will now quantify the condition of every vine.”
No sooner had I finished speaking than Martinez, the veteran crew foreman who had been pruning in Napa for over ten years, raised his hand.
“CEO Brian, pruning is something you can estimate at a glance. If a cane is thick, you leave a little more; if it’s thin, you cut it back... So why do we need measuring tools like these?”
At that moment, Warren slowly walked out of the darkness. He picked up one of the calipers from my box, then looked at me with a strange smile.
“I’m curious too, Master. What exactly are you trying to teach these skilled craftsmen? Are you planning to turn grapevines into precision machines?”
I gave Warren a slight bow in response, then unfolded a chart in front of the workers.
“Foreman Martinez isn’t wrong. In farming, intuition matters more than anything. But that intuition differs from person to person. What I want is to standardize the canopy occupancy across the entire vineyard to over 95%. Now, take a look at this manual.”
I began explaining the pruning algorithm to be distributed to the workers.
“Starting today, we measure the thickness of every cane. Any cane thicker than 12 millimeters gets two buds left on it. Between 10 and 12 millimeters gets one bud. Anything below that has its base removed entirely. When I say remove the base, I mean cutting it cleanly right at the very bottom where the cane begins—the part attached near the root side or to the thick main trunk—so please familiarize yourselves with the terminology going forward. The reason we’re going this far is to match the values based on the T-R ratio model I calculated—the ratio between the aboveground Top and the underground Root. We’re trying to perfectly synchronize the number of aboveground buds with the amount of carbohydrates stored by the roots.”
Warren narrowed his eyes and came closer to my side.
“T-R ratio... I’ve heard of it in theory, but you mean to apply it across the entire vineyard in the field? Measuring thousands of vines one by one?”
“Yes, sir. Only by doing this will the vigor of the new shoots that burst out next spring be uniform across the entire vineyard. We’ll fundamentally eliminate the phenomenon where some vines grow excessively while others barely manage to survive. From now on, all of Redwood’s vineyards will be managed based on absolute standards like this.”
“I understand that, but... ha, ha...”
After hearing my explanation, Warren laughed hollowly as if he could hardly believe it. Operating this way would clearly cost at least two or three times more in labor than before, and he looked baffled by the fact that, despite surely knowing that, I seemed to treat such a trivial problem as not even worth considering.
I understood how Warren felt too, but now that the farm had acquired considerable financial leeway, there was an even greater need to raise the quality of the vineyard. In particular, unlike Silver Oak, where not only the topsoil but even the subsoil had been completely changed, Redwood’s subsoil drainage remained as it had been, so it was necessary to make full use of the techniques I knew from before my regression.
The T-R ratio was a technique that absolutely had to be applied in that regard. The lower and more stable the T-R ratio, the better the sugar content rises, while the pH does not rise excessively, acidity retention improves, and the skins grow thicker. As a result, color and tannins naturally deepen, and resistance to water stress increases. All of these outcomes ultimately reduce vintage variability and allow the winery’s quality to be maintained at a high and stable level.
Seeing the workers half in doubt as they picked up the calipers one by one, I immediately moved on to the second stage. This time, it was the flags by color.
“While pruning, you will simultaneously conduct individual vine vigor diagnostics. For vines whose fallen leaf color is dull, plant a red flag. For vines whose vigor is too strong and whose lignification is insufficient, plant a blue flag. Throughout the winter, we will not perform blanket fertilization by spreading compost over the entire field. Depending on the flag color, we will carry out Variable Rate Application, prescribing different treatments for each vine.”
“Are you saying you’re going to feed each vine differently?”
Warren asked in surprise. In Napa Valley in 2007, the concept of Precision Agriculture had not even reached its infancy. In general, spreading a certain amount of fertilizer per square yard was considered common sense.
“Yes. For weak vines, we’ll prescribe high-concentration organic matter. For strong ones, we’ll instead prescribe trace elements that suppress nitrogen metabolism. If we do this, by next year’s harvest, the variation in sugar and acidity will narrow to within 1%. That is the key to maintaining Astra Vale’s quality.”
Warren nodded repeatedly, as if deeply immersed in my explanation. In his eyes lingered not only awe but an intense curiosity.
“Watching you makes me reproach myself for how primitive the farming I’ve done all this time has been. But Brian, why did you tell them to inspect those micro-sprinklers installed over there? Isn’t it common sense that if you spray water in winter, the vines will freeze to death?”
At Warren’s sharp question, Dad and the workers all pricked up their ears at once. I answered while checking the settings on the sprinkler control panel.
“They’re designed to activate automatically when the winter temperature reaches minus 0.5 degrees Celsius. This isn’t to freeze the vines, but to protect them. It uses the principle of latent heat.”
“Latent heat?”
“When water turns into ice, it releases about 80 calories of heat per gram. If you coat the surface of the vine thinly with fine mist particles, the heat emitted as the water turns into an ice film prevents the temperature inside the vine tissue from dropping below zero. Even at minus 5 degrees, the inside of the vine will remain at zero.”
Since this was a method unheard of in conventional vineyards, Warren could not close his mouth. It was only natural. This was the “micro-sprinkler frost protection technique” I had applied countless times in smart farm systems before my regression. As long as the dew point was calculated precisely and the activation timing was right, it became a more reliable protective barrier than any insulation material.
“You spray water to raise the temperature... Is such a technique truly possible?”
“Of course. You’ll know once you see it operating.”
At my confident statement, he could only nod blankly.
“Truly... astonishing. With this level of precision, even if the investigators William Harlan sends haul away soil for a hundred days, they’ll never uncover Redwood’s secret.”
Once the workers who had received their instructions scattered to their respective sections, the vast Redwood farm began moving like a massive laboratory. The sight of calipers touching thousands of vines and colorful flags being planted was spectacular.
I brought Dad and Warren into the office. Spread wide across the desk was a geological map of Napa Valley.
“Sir, the system buildout is complete. Now what we need is the next piece of the puzzle.”
“The next puzzle? How long has it been since you received the championship trophy, and you’re already talking about the next one?”
The content of his question seemed to suggest he didn’t understand, but the way Warren watched with his arms crossed showed an air of inevitability, as if this was only natural, along with pride.
“We can’t rest on Astra Vale’s success... This victory was thanks to how unconventional it was, but to hold the throne continuously, we need overwhelming class. In particular, I think a major reason this Astra Vale was able to succeed was the Merlot we happened to acquire at auction. The problem is that it was a miraculous vintage caused by an anomaly in that vineyard’s terroir.”
“Hmm... That’s true.”
“To continue maintaining an even higher standard than now, we desperately need top-grade Merlot that can softly wrap around the Cabernet Sauvignon.”
At my words, Warren’s expression turned serious.
“Merlot... In Napa, it’s considered only a supporting variety for Cabernet, but in truth, the completeness of a blend is decided by the texture of the Merlot. What sort of Merlot are you looking for?”
“A place with high clay content, yet perfect drainage, where a cool breeze constantly passes through to cool the heat of midday. If we’re going to overcome the weight that Harlan’s To Kalon displays, we have to draw out from Merlot a more delicate and sensual velvet texture than theirs.”
As I said that, I pointed to a spot on the map. They were areas engraved in my memories of 2025—still undervalued by the public for now, but destined to become known as holy lands of Merlot.
“The lower part of Coombsville, or the western slope of Oak Knoll... Somewhere among these areas, the jewel we want will be hidden. I want to confirm who holds the ownership of these lands.”
Until now, we had been lucky enough to purchase properties that appeared on the market at reasonable prices, but the situation had changed. Now, based on the enormous financial power that Astra Vale would generate, we had to aggressively acquire the vineyards we wanted, or even pay a bit of a premium to secure those varieties first.
Warren stroked his chin and nodded.
“If it’s that information, Robert Mondavi, whom you’ll meet this weekend, would know best. He’s a man who knows exactly whose hands every handful of Napa soil is in. Perhaps among the vineyards he owns, there may be the land we’re looking for.”
“Then the meeting with Mondavi becomes even more important.”
“I suppose it does. Robert said he wants to meet with you alone, so I’m very curious what sort of conversation will take place.”
From his expression, it was clear he was dying to sit in on that conversation. But he was not the kind of person who would ask to be included like a child.
“I’ll tell you about it when I get back.”
“Do not leave out a single sentence.”
“Hahaha! All right.”
I immediately rose from my seat.
“Dad, I’ll go to Golden Grain House. I need to check on the Ruby Quartz launch.”
Since today was the first day of its release, there were things I had to do, like taking photos with Warren. We had set the schedule because, when distributing it, they needed photos of Warren, me, and Jacob with the winery in the background.
“Sure, sure. Go on.”
“Please take good care of supervising the pruning team. The workers might roughly eyeball the measurements and move on, so manage them strictly.”
“Hey, don’t worry. I know better than anyone how people work sloppily if you loosen the reins a little. Even if I have to pay them a bit more, I’ll manage them hard, so trust me.”
Leaving Dad’s reliable answer behind, Warren and I got into the sedan.
“How do you feel?”
Warren, who was releasing brandy for the first time rather than wine, spoke with an unreadable expression.
“I’m happy, and I’m overwhelmed too. To be honest, a few years ago I thought I had already done everything I needed to do... But after meeting you, Master, I realized that wasn’t the case. This brandy, too, actually began with inspiration from outside. If not for the inspiration I gained at your friend Jacob’s distillery, I wouldn’t have been able to develop it. Perhaps that’s why I’ve become even more ambitious.”
“Oh, really?”
“Is that funny? That I’m becoming ambitious at this age?”
“Haha... A little?”
“You rascal... But I’m a bit surprised myself. I didn’t know that kind of passion still remained inside me. So when you go to Robert and let him taste Ruby Quartz, you must tell me his expression and reaction. In very fine detail.”
Warren smiled with a bitter face. It seemed he truly regretted not being able to see Robert’s face in real time when he tasted Ruby Quartz.