Stole My Share? I'm Taking the Secret Recipe and Running

"Yes, abroad." I repeated it calmly. "Everything's already arranged over there. I got an offer from a top agricultural biotechnology research institute. The position and compensation are both much better than what I have now."

"But... But we're getting old, and we don't speak the language. If we go abroad where we don't know anyone, won't we just be a burden to you?"

Mom recovered from the shock, her face full of fear and worry about the unknown. "And where would we even live? We don't know how to do anything."

"Mom, I've thought all of this through." I softened my tone and explained patiently.

"The institute provides transitional housing that's big enough for our family. The new place is already being renovated. There's a sizable Cerulean community there, so we can adapt gradually. It won't be a problem. You'll be able to communicate in Cerulean without any issues."

Through the rearview mirror, I saw Dad's brow still furrowed. I knew he was worried about more practical concerns.

"Noah, going abroad is a big deal. We're naturally happy for you that your work is secure. But your mother and I have spent our whole lives here. Our house and everything else are here.

"If we just pick up and leave, what happens to all of that? Once we're over there, we can't just live off you alone doing nothing."

"Dad, I've arranged for that too."

I continued explaining, "My salary is enough to support us in living comfortably over there. You can treat it like retirement, just enjoy life without any financial pressure. If you get bored, I can bring you back to visit anytime."

"You've had this planned all along?" Mom asked.

"Yeah. Originally, I was thinking that once Jack's business got bigger and more stable, I'd hand over the formula. But now, there's no need for that anymore."

My tone was calm. Dad leaned back heavily in his seat and let out a long breath.

"Good!" he said emphatically. "Let's go! We're not too old to try something new! My son has ability, brains, and backbone! The three of us can live well anywhere! We'll do what you say!"

Mom looked at Dad, her confidence suddenly restored, then at my profile. Finally, she nodded slowly but firmly.

"Alright. We'll listen to you. As long as our family is together and safe, that's all that matters."

The next day, I didn't go to the farm. The feed supply couldn't keep up in time either.

At the farm, things descended into chaos early in the morning. The poultry that had grown accustomed to the specialized feed showed little interest in ordinary feed, and their intake dropped sharply. Some pens even showed signs of restlessness and agitation.

The workers scrambled around frantically but had no solutions. Frank was so stressed that he was beside himself. He called me over and over, but no one answered. He had no choice but to go to Jack.

At first, Jack didn't take it seriously. He thought the workers were making a big deal out of nothing, that the poultry just needed time to adjust. He confidently went to check on things himself several times, but unfortunately, he couldn't solve any of the problems.

He could only try to contact me, but those calls went unanswered. More poultry started getting restless, and the workers' anxiety and whispered conversations began to spread.

The pressure from order deadlines and customer inquiries left Jack increasingly overwhelmed. So one call after another began bombarding my parents.

Aunt Louise tentatively called Mom to ask about my situation. She asked if I wasn't feeling well and why I hadn't come by the farm to check on things.

Mom followed what I'd told her beforehand and just said I wasn't feeling well and was resting. Before long, Uncle Luke's call came through too, his tone full of complaints.

"Renee, what's going on with Noah? The farm can't do without him right now. He can't just blow off his responsibilities like this! Tell him to get over here and take a look!"

Mom's tone was neither servile nor overbearing. "Noah isn't feeling well and needs to rest. The farm is Jack's business. He's the owner, so if there's a problem, he should figure out how to solve it himself.

"Noah's a researcher, not one of Jack's employees, so he doesn't have an obligation to be at his beck and call."

Uncle Luke's angry accusations came through the phone, but Mom simply hung up calmly. I was in the study organizing documents for going abroad while my phone kept buzzing nonstop beside me.

With no other choice, I finally answered.