The Red Dragon Lord is OP, but Insists on a Pop Culture Invasion!

Figxin emerged from her seclusion.

After pondering the profound question of the fate of intelligent life for so long, she had figured out one thing.

That she couldn’t figure out such a complicated problem.

So, she might as well start by fulfilling her duties as a Lord.

She’d been cooped up in her room for so long, yet the Northern Domain had continued to run without any issue.

’Progress waits for no one, and it’s embarrassing to be the one who isn’t missed.’

She couldn’t stay in this slump any longer. She had to pull herself together!

Figxin took a deep breath. She hadn’t left her room in so long that the sudden decision to leave made her a bit nervous. For days, the only living person she’d seen was the young maid who brought her meals.

She gripped the doorknob and pushed the door open.

FLASH!

A bright light assaulted her, and her vision went completely white.

Figxin instinctively prepared to retaliate when she heard a familiar voice.

"Feifei?"

"Gelda?" Figxin rubbed her eyes, trying to make out the somewhat unfamiliar figure before her.

The Gelda in front of her was wearing an ice-blue formal gown with a translucent gauze cape.

She was even wearing a crown!

’What’s going on? Did I open the door wrong?’

’Could it be? Is Gelda tired of living in someone else’s shadow?’

"Feifei, you’re out!" Gelda came over and gave Figxin an affectionate hug.

"You... no, what is this?" Figxin asked, her words jumbled.

"Oh, you mean this outfit?" Gelda said, spinning around so her skirt fanned out like flower petals. "It’s my look from *Shadow of Evil*. I’m taking pictures for my social media profile."

"What social media profile? And what pictures?" Figxin felt like she’d been shut away for over a month, but it seemed a century had passed outside.

"It’s a platform for sharing things. You’ll understand once you see it later."

It wasn’t something she could explain in just a sentence or two.

"I have tens of thousands of followers on there. When they visit the Northern Domain, they might imitate my photos, making these kinds of pictures a popular trend and eventually turning this into an internet-famous photo spot."

Gelda tried her best to recall the exact words. "Right, that’s what it was called—an internet-famous photo spot. Zog mentioned it in a meeting. He said we needed to create lots of these spots in the Northern Domain, and then people would follow the trend and come."

Figxin nodded, only half-understanding. She had never been good at this sort of thing, but if it could attract tourists, it had to be a good thing.

"Tourists won’t be able to come inside the castle to take pictures, will they?" she asked suddenly.

Although the grand hall on the first floor of the castle had already become a supply line for the Zog Group, the upper floors were still habitable. If tourists were really allowed in, the Lord of the North would probably have to move out of Winterfort.

"No, that won’t happen. The costume rentals, photographers, and photo spots will all be set up on the castle’s outer grounds," Gelda replied.

"That’s a relief." Figxin sighed. Her living quarters were safe.

"By the way, since you’re out now, there’s a final confirmation meeting at noon for the tourist reception preparations. It’s at the Zog Factory."

***

At that moment, in a private room at the Zog Factory’s cafeteria.

To accommodate Zog’s need to discuss business while eating, a private room had been specially built in the cafeteria.

He always felt that just talking was too serious; things were more relaxed at the dinner table.

However, there was only an eating portion, no drinking portion.

Forcing alcohol on others was purely a test of obedience, a strange and recent custom that didn’t need to be promoted.

Although Zog was now in a position to make others drink, he had no intention of using such a boring method to display his power.

A few people and a few dragons gathered around two small pots on the table. The broth in one was so red it looked spicy just by sight, while the other held a clear broth. Both were being heated from below by a Magic Flame.

One after the other, just seconds apart, the two pots came to a boil, bubbling away.

"Alright, the pots are boiling! We can start adding the food!"

"What is this?" Figxin asked curiously. She knew many nobles concocted rather bizarre ways of eating to show off their wealth.

For example, extremely intricate food carvings, placing gold leaf on pastries, or stewing pearls in chicken soup.

’Don’t ask if it tastes better, just ask if it looks expensive.’

But this was the first time she had seen a huge pile of ingredients brought to the table to be cooked on the spot.

If she didn’t know what kind of Dragon Zog was, she would have definitely thought someone was trying to mock her.

"Hot pot. Trust me, it’s delicious."

After the Druids managed to grow Sichuan peppercorns, they also developed substitutes for ginger and star anise. Combined with the locally available scallions, garlic, chili peppers, and some other native spices, they successfully cobbled together a low-spec, magically-modified spicy oil base.

Zog had tasted it beforehand, and it was surprisingly authentic.

And to solve the problem for those who couldn’t handle spice, he had also thoughtfully prepared a clear broth base.

’Hot pot is what you eat in winter.’

Zog used chopsticks to pick up a few slices of mutton and placed them in the roiling red oil.

The others followed his example, though they used tongs. A full set of knives, forks, and spoons was also provided.

"Just swish your tripe strips for a few seconds. If you cook them too long, the texture won’t be as good," Zog reminded her.

Hearing this, Figxin quickly took it out. Without dipping it in any sauce, she braced herself not to spit it out even if it was terrible—that would be too impolite—and cautiously took a bite.

’What a strange texture. It’s springy, and there’s a slight numbing sensation in my mouth, but it’s pleasant. A powerful aroma is exploding across my palate.’

"It really is... delicious."

When the others heard her say that, they also tried some and gave it unanimous praise.

"Excellent," Zog said with satisfaction. "From now on, hot pot is a time-honored specialty of the Northern Domain."

He had brought the locals here for hot pot today to gauge its reception and see if it could be marketed as a must-try dish for visitors.

After all, taste is subjective; what truly matters is that people enjoy it.

If the locals could accept it, hot pot was the perfect dish to standardize. As long as the raw ingredients were up to par, it was hard to make it taste bad.

"But the Northern Domain never had this before," Figxin said honestly.

"It can now. From this day forward, hot pot was invented by the personal chef of the first King, Sutton, during a winter Hunt."

Figxin’s face was a giant question mark.

"Picture this: it was freezing cold, and spices were scarce. The chef, in a stroke of genius, used the lamb the King had hunted to create hot pot. The King took one taste, praised it lavishly, and immediately rewarded the chef with a Hundred Gold Coins."

Zog said to an assistant at the door, "Take this down. From now on, use this story for marketing. ’King’s Choice’."

Doudou fished out a large spoonful of beef.

Zog continued, "Now, the Northern Domain’s signature tourist experiences are all set: the Ice and Snow Paradise, skiing, a *Frozen* Holy Land pilgrimage and photoshoot, hot pot, and the forest camping experience. Am I missing anything?"

These were all projects Zog had carefully selected, perfect for spreading online as memorable highlights.

There was never a shortage of people who loved to follow trends. As long as they created the impression that the Northern Domain was the hottest tourist destination, they could truly attract that many visitors.

"Nothing’s been missed," Gelda replied.

Doudou fished out a large spoonful of mushrooms.

"We have to be careful. We must severely punish anyone selling counterfeit goods, tampering with scales, or engaging in other shady business. We can’t let their momentary greed ruin the hype we’ve worked so hard to build."

The internet is a double-edged sword. Good news travels fast, but bad news travels even faster.

"I can have my Personal Guard take on regulatory duties," Figxin said. Her guards might be a bit dense, but they were diligent and absolutely loyal.

Doudou fished out a large spoonful of shrimp paste.

"In that case, here’s to the great success of the Northern Domain’s tourism revenue plan."

It sounded very noble, but in reality, revenue for the Northern Domain was basically revenue for Zog.

Taxes? The taxes collected by the Lord weren’t even a fraction of the Zog Group’s revenue in the Northern Domain.

"Let’s eat!" Thinking about all the rich people who would soon be coming to the Northern Domain to throw their money around, Zog happily reached his chopsticks toward the hot pot.

’Where’s the food?’

’What about the meat I just put in?’

"Wait, where’s all the stuff I put in?" Zog asked, bewildered.

"I dunno," Doudou replied, their cheeks bulging and their words muffled.