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A BRIEF RECAP FOR THOSE WHO MISSED THE CHAOS Or: How I Learned to Stop Worrying and Love Interdimensional Agriculture My name is Nicholas Parker, and six weeks ago I was a perfectly normal accountant whose biggest concern was whether to use the good pens for tax season. Today, I'm the officially recognized Administrator of a magical monster farm, romantically involved with a gorgeous elf who used to be a slave, best friends with a shapeshifting dragon named Petunia, and apparently one of the realm's last hopes against an interdimensional invasion. I'd like to say this transition was smooth and logical, but that would be lying. It started, as many life-changing disasters do, while I was taking a dump. One moment I'm scrolling through my phone in my workplace bathroom, the next I'm standing pants-around-ankles in front of six pompous mages who had summoned me to be their hero. Except their magic orb took one look at me and essentially said "nope," declaring me to have "insufficient heroic potential." So naturally, they dumped me on a cursed death farm and left me to die. Blackthorn Farm, as it turned out, was two hundred acres of pure nightmare fuel. The previous seventeen owners had all died horribly, the land was infected with curses that would make a horror movie director weep with joy, and it was crawling with monsters that treated human visitors like particularly appetizing snacks. The mages, clearly expecting me to become monster chow within a day or two, had not factored in several key variables: First, apparently, I can punch interdimensional horrors hard enough to make them explode. Don't ask me why. The system that governs this world is as confused about it as I am. Second, instead of just destroying the curses like any sensible person would, I accidentally figured out how to transform them into beneficial magical features. What used to be a pool of liquid nightmares became a healing spring. Trees that wept acid became protective guardians. It was like magical urban renewal, but with more tentacles. Third, I discovered I had an unexpected talent for monster domestication. Most people see a pack of wolf-scorpion hybrids and think, "run away screaming." I see "potential livestock with interesting breeding possibilities." Within a month, I'd gone from homeless accountant to owner of a thriving magical agricultural operation worth half a million gold. Along the way, I'd accumulated a team of incredibly skilled workers (technically slaves, which I'm still morally uncomfortable about but practically dependent on), including: Syllia, an elven former slave who's now my farm manager, romantic partner, and the person who keeps me from making completely insane decisions more than once per day A half-orc construction expert who can build monster-proof housing A dwarf blacksmith who makes tools that would make other craftsmen weep with envy Various other specialists in everything from animal training to botanical magic And Petunia, a three-hundred-year-old dragon who can shapeshift into human form and has strong opinions about proper crop rotation The farm now produces magical vegetables that grow at four times normal speed, raises monster livestock that would make a zoologist have an existential crisis, and has transformed from a cursed wasteland into something approaching a magical agricultural paradise. Oh, and I recently discovered that the whole thing was basically a setup. Blackthorn used to be a government research facility for dimensional agriculture before something called the "Convergence Disaster" turned it into a hellscape. Some of the mages who "rejected" me knew exactly what they were doing when they sent me here, because evidently, my weird abilities are perfectly suited for this exact type of work. The farm's original control system has accepted me as its new Administrator, which sounds impressive until you realize it comes with the responsibility of preventing an approaching interdimensional invasion that could destroy the entire realm. So that's where we are: I'm now officially in charge of a magical AI that thinks I'm qualified to save the world, my dragon is giving me agricultural advice while occasionally setting things on fire, my girlfriend used to be legally owned by someone else, and somewhere out there, hostile interdimensional entities are planning to invade our reality. Just another day at Blackthorn Monster Farm, where normal went to die and weird set up permanent residence. The really disturbing part? I wouldn't trade it for my old life for anything. Author's Note: If any of this sounds insane, you're probably still more qualified to run a magical farm than whoever made
