The winds of change brought not only the scent of Ebonwood's blossoming trade but also the aroma of opportunity. A group of enterprising villagers approached Lord Simha, their eyes alight with entrepreneurial fire. They spoke of a vision—a vision where Ebonwood's streets were lined with restaurants and fast-food chains, a testament to the village's growth and the bustling life of its factories.
"**Lord Simha,**" they implored, "**grant us your blessing to open eateries that will cater to our busy villagers and the travelers who now frequent our roads. The festival has shown us the demand for quick, delicious sustenance.**"
Simha, once Satoru, saw the wisdom in their request. "**Your vision aligns with the progress of Ebonwood,**" he proclaimed. "**I approve of this venture. Let us bring the tastes of the world to our doorstep.**"
The idea of a fast-food chain intrigued Simha, and he posed a challenge to the village's chefs. "**I seek a dish that will resonate with the hearts and palates of our people—a chicken fry that rivals the famed buckets of Earth's KFC. Present me with such a creation, and I shall grant the patent rights for two years to the chef whose dish earns my satisfaction.**"
The chefs, spurred by the challenge, set to work. The kitchens of Ebonwood became battlegrounds of culinary prowess, each chef vying to craft the perfect chicken fries.
"**Remember,**" Simha advised, "**it is not just the taste, but the texture, the aroma, and the very essence of the dish that must capture the spirit of Ebonwood.**"
The day of the competition arrived, and the air was thick with anticipation. One by one, the chefs presented their creations to Simha, their chicken fries golden and crisp, seasoned with herbs from Ebonwood's own forests.
Simha tasted each dish with a discerning palate, searching for the one that would define Ebonwood's culinary identity. At last, he found it—a chicken fry that was tender yet crisp, flavorful yet not overpowering, a dish that spoke of the village's journey from simplicity to sophistication.
"**This,**" Simha declared, holding aloft the winning chicken fry, "**is the taste of Ebonwood's soul. To the chef who crafted this masterpiece, I grant the patent rights. May your restaurant flourish, and may your fries become a symbol of our village's ingenuity.**"
The chapter closes with the grand opening of the first fast-food restaurant in Ebonwood, its sign bearing the emblem of the winning chicken fries. The villagers gathered, their mouths watering, eager to partake in the flavors that were now uniquely their own. Ebonwood had found its culinary champion, and its name would be whispered with reverence wherever the trade winds blew.