The Druids called this small leaf "pitta."

It was probably a word from the Druid language. Druid Professionals had their own industry jargon, much like the secret codes used in the criminal underworld.

’I wonder if these environmentalists greet each other by complaining about how tough their work is.’

As many industries develop, they gradually give rise to internally recognized abbreviations and pronouns, eventually evolving into a language completely incomprehensible to outsiders.

The more complex versions even develop symbolic systems, used for written expression or as hidden markers in the wild.

Zog had noticed symbols written in the Druid language out in the wild before; they looked a bit like cuneiform.

Although he knew quite a few languages, the Druid tongue was definitely not one of them. There were no dictionaries or textbooks for it; to learn it, you’d have to catch a Druid.

Don’t be fooled by Zog’s smooth-talking bluffs—he was actually socially anxious. A real one-on-one lesson would make him so tense he’d be uncomfortable all over.

To be fair, Zog did know a few coded languages himself. Dragon Language didn’t count, as scholars had long since deciphered it completely.

He also knew Chinese and "Martian," guaranteed to be one-of-a-kind in this world, and the two were even interchangeable.

For instance, the coded phrase "The king is in his castle" and the stylized slang "1’m b3773r 7h4n y0u" meant the exact same thing.

The Druid stall before him was extremely "rustic." It didn’t even have a storefront, just a few animal hides spread out on the ground.

Besides cash, they also accepted barter.

A few Druids were demonstrating the process of making "pitta."

Only Zog and a handful of passersby were watching.

First, the "pitta" was placed in a stone mortar and pressed firmly with a pestle, and the green juice that was squeezed out was discarded.

Then, the dehydrated leaves were spread on a bamboo mat to dry in the sun.

The dried leaves were placed back into the stone mortar, ground into fine flakes, and then sifted, leaving only a delicate powder.

This powder was the final, sellable "pitta" product.

The drinking process was also quite complex; you couldn’t be bothered with it unless you had plenty of time on your hands.

A moderate amount of powder was poured into a bowl. A little hot water was added first to work the powder into a paste, then more water was gradually added while whisking rapidly with a whisk made of thin bamboo strips.

The whole process was so lengthy that the few curious onlookers found it rather dull and had all left.

"I’d rather go watch the auto chess. Maybe I could even get a machine. I can’t sleep these days if I don’t play a couple of rounds with a goblin lineup."

A fan of high-risk, luck-based lineups. Zog wholeheartedly approved of his taste.

’The eternal home for casual auto chess players—all-in gambling strategies.’

After more than ten minutes, a uniform white foam appeared in the Druid’s bowl, like the head on a quickly poured beer.

Zog had heard of this process but never seen it. To think that a whipped tea technique, obsolete on Earth for nearly a thousand years, would reappear in the hands of the Druids.

’What a fateful encounter.’

This method was different from the matcha that Neon had adopted, because the whipped tea included the extra step of squeezing out the juice, which resulted in a white foam after whisking.

In contrast, matcha produced a green foam when finished.

But both had one thing in common: they looked better than they tasted.

If not for the fact that powdered tea leaves tasted good in desserts, Neon’s matcha probably wouldn’t have survived to this day.

The Druid who had finished preparing the cup of pitta handed the bowl to Zog. He then drank a mouthful from another bowl himself, demonstrating for Zog.

’As expected of a Druid, so respectful of animals.’

Zog was, after all, a famous Dragon Object in Twin Tower City now. It had been a long time since anyone had communicated with him like this.

"Thank you, but I can speak," Zog said as he took the bowl.

The Druid’s face was a mask of utter shock, which then melted into an expression of pity.

Zog had no idea what kind of backstory the Druid had just imagined for him, but he decided to try the pitta first.

This was the confidence that came with having a Constitution score of 30+. As long as someone else dared to drink it, so did he.

If something he drank could cause him problems, then forget about these few Druids—a single mouthful would contain enough poison to take down an entire street of people.

He took a sip. The texture was strange.

It certainly had the flavor of tea, but it felt like drinking a mouthful of beer foam.

And it was super-duper-ultra-mega-Armstrong-cyclone-cannon-level awful.

The tea flavor was faint, while the bitterness and astringency were maxed out. His verdict: an iced Americano was better.

’So there’s a good reason this drinking method was phased out,’ he thought.

"This pitta... BLECH... where did you guys find it? PTUI, PTUI."

"We cultivated it ourselves." The Druid was disappointed that even a Sub-Dragon couldn’t stand their newly bred plant.

"You cultivated it yourselves?" Zog hadn’t expected that answer. He thought they must have discovered it in some remote, uncharted mountain forest.

"Yes." The Druid didn’t hold anything back, explaining the entire process: how they started with a type of shrub, selected and cultivated the plants with a special flavor, and repeated the cycle until they ended up with a variety that had a very prominent taste.

Zog was filled with a sudden respect. ’Otherworld Mendels, are we?’

However, the Druids’ experiments remained at the empirical stage; they hadn’t summarized their findings into a formal theory.

They had successfully delayed the point in time when the children of this world would have to calculate dominant A and recessive a, dominant B and recessive b, single eyelids and double eyelids, color blindness and non-color blindness by several decades.

But since Zog had stumbled upon it, he had to give it a little push. The development of science and technology was, after all, an important cornerstone of cultural prosperity.

’I hope the children will enjoy biology.’

"Let’s go. Come with me. I’ll take all of your pitta, and I want the cultivation method too. What association are you from?"

"The Earth Association." The Druid hadn’t expected that it would be a Sub-Dragon who would ultimately relieve their financial pressure.

Yes, Druids were generally under financial pressure these days.

Due to the development of Steam Engine technology, the rate of consumption of natural resources had significantly accelerated.

Compared to city dwellers, the Druids’ way of life was closer to that of wild animals, so their living space was naturally being squeezed.

There had been many protests, and even conflicts, but in the face of the torrent of progress, they were clearly pointless.

As a result, many Druids had no choice but to abandon their original way of life and start using money to buy food.

However, there was one Druid association that not only had no financial pressure but was also rolling in dough.

"Are you familiar with the Spore Association?" Zog asked.

"Not very, but we’ve had some contact."

"Well, you’d better get familiar. You’re going to be colleagues soon."

Zog led the group of Druids to the Potion Factory.

They made small talk on the way, and Zog learned that the Druid’s earlier expression of pity was because he had mistaken Zog for some unlucky animal modified by an evil Mage.

Many animals on the Continent had been created this way, such as the Xiao Xiong.

Druids were strongly opposed to such practices.

But it was fine when they did it with plant breeding.

’Damn it, plant lives matter too! Doesn’t anyone care about plants? I’m so angry I’m literally shaking!’

’I wonder if there are Mages who experiment on humans and animals together.’

’Okay, there definitely are.’

’I wonder if the things they create will call people "big brother"...’

They soon arrived at the Zog Potion Factory. The factory grounds had recently been expanded, and the beverage production base was also located there.

He found the beverage flavor R&D team.

He officially named "pitta" as tea.

He also coined a new word for it, based on the pronunciation from his homeland.

This was to honor the fine traditions of his home. On Earth, there were only two pronunciations for tea.

Those who said "cha" or "chay" got their tea from the northern land routes.

Those who said "tea" or "tee" got theirs from the southern sea routes.

At the same time, he laid out a research and development plan for tea roasting techniques.

Although Zog didn’t know how to roast it himself, he insisted they had to figure it out. That’s just how it is when you’re the client.

He was already starting to imagine how to promote tea everywhere. Ideally, he’d open bubble tea shops all over the world, and they would absolutely have to sell salted milk tea.

’So capricious!’

Before long, a row of all sorts of tea varieties was placed before Zog.

Just as he was preparing to taste them one by one, Yuno frantically contacted him via communication Magic.

"Boss, an Alchemist I know wants to introduce you to his invention. It’s called a ’picture tube’."