I Became A Black Merchant In Another World

The slums were harsher than I expected, yet rational in a certain sense.

In fantasy novels, when characters go to the slums on a mission, they always seem to get caught up in some sort of incident.
Though it was obvious that I was a noble, no one dared to mess with me.

However, street brawls happened right in front of me.

“Please wait here.”

“Can my guards enter with me?”

The low-level thug guiding me hesitated for a moment.

“No matter how honorable they are, the knights cannot enter this part of the slum.”

“Even if they have served my family for generations?”

People say not to judge others by their appearance, but that’s highly unrealistic.
Our instincts judge others based on what we see.

Since my guards are dressed in full plate armor, they look just like real knights as long as they keep their mouths shut.

“It would be inconvenient for us if any confidential information were to leak.”

I signaled for my guards to stay outside.
I should be safe enough, as long as I don’t threaten these gangsters or fail to pay them.
Even thugs know that if they betray a paying client, they won’t get more business.

If they couldn’t grasp that, they wouldn’t have survived here.

“We can guarantee the quality of the information. And if you need women, we have women; if you need dirty work done, we have skilled men who are discreet… whatever you require, we can provide.”

They were open about killing or even arranging human trafficking.
Unimaginable in 21st-century Korea.

While I was conversing with the thug, he suddenly lowered his head.

“Hello, Boss.”

The man called Boss promptly kicked the low-level thug.

The thug crashed into the wall.

“You wretched fool! Do you think Sir Fabio Medici, heir of the Medici family, would buy women? How long have you been here, and you still don’t know your place?!”

The boss shouted at the thug, his hand raising and lowering naturally.
Just like the mobsters I used to know.

“You got lucky today, punk.”

With that, the thug scurried away like a rat with its tail between its legs.

From the boss’s reprimand to the thug’s reaction, everything seemed too natural.

‘They’re acting.’

Did they think they could intimidate me because I’m young?

Unlike the thug who lacked any sense of dignity, the boss greeted me with some measure of poise.

“Greetings, Sir Medici. I’m Corbo, in charge of the Spider’s Tear here in the slums.”

“It seems you know me well, despite my not introducing myself.”

“Any nobleman I may not know, but I wouldn’t fail to recognize someone destined for greatness.”

Whenever someone says that, it’s usually an insincere compliment.

But judging from the expression on Corbo’s face, he seemed to mean it.

“I apologize for the disrespect my subordinate showed you. Please forgive us.”

“You don’t need to apologize for your underling’s actions.”

“Thank you for your gracious forgiveness.”

Corbo raised one corner of his mouth and smiled slyly.

“But if you ever find yourself lonely at night, just let me know. We’ll prepare the finest. Unlike other gangs, we don’t deceive our customers.”

Such businesses are typical for these types.
They buy pretty girls from rural areas or city slums and sell them to young lords to secure future clientele.
The whole idea of trafficking people is revolting.

“This time, I need an investigation done.”

“Who would you like us to investigate?”

“Sub-Baron Raviolle, Director of the Commercial Law Department.”

Upon hearing this, Corbo’s brows furrowed.

“Investigating a mere sub-baron living off a pension is simple. But if he’s the Director of the Commercial Law Department, it’s a different story.”

In our empire, rank and title matter, but so do position and connections.
A baron with a wealthy estate can be considered a “grand baron,” wielding influence comparable to a count.
Directors of critical departments like Justice, Commerce, and Finance wield considerable power due to their positions.

‘Power translates directly to social status and influence.’

“He must be deeply entangled with various merchant guilds. We’ll need to give this some thought...”

Is he asking for a bribe?

Of course, I expected as much.

“Twenty gold upfront. Up to thirty more upon completion, depending on the quality.”

I took out a pouch with twenty gold coins.

Corbo opened it and smiled wickedly.

“You’re quite generous.”

I don’t know the exact going rate for hiring people like this, but fifty gold for investigating a department director is generous.
“Since I’m going up against powerful merchants, I assumed they’d be backing him. Consider it a risk premium. Is it not enough?”

“It’s more than enough.”

“I appreciate your honesty.”

Corbo immediately pulled out a pen and paper.

“Is there anything specific you’re looking for?”

“I want to know which of the powerful merchants he’s colluding with and what promises were made in return. Those two are essential.”

To win any war, you must know this:

Who are your enemies, both within and without?

Without identifying the enemy, any plan would be a waste of time.

It’d be like going into battle without friend-or-foe recognition— a recipe for friendly fire.

“Understood.”

“Additionally, find his weaknesses. What corruption he’s involved in, his personal failings.”

When fighting an opponent in armor, aim for the gaps.
Otherwise, you won’t stand a chance.

It’s the same with political battles.

“Do rumors count?”

“Even the smallest ones.”

Even in a modern legal system, rumors are often used to bring politicians down.

Just the suggestion of an investigation or a hearing can damage public support.

In the Tuscan Empire, where rumors are even harder to trace?
You’d be a fool not to use every dirty trick in the book.

“Is there anything else?”

“Any scandals involving his family or lovers. If there’s something substantial, report back.”

“Understood.”

Seeing that I had no more to add, Corbo put down his pen.

“May I ask what this sub-baron did to you? If we knew, it might help us assist you further.”

It’s not like I was caught doing anything shameful.

“I’d welcome any rumors spreading about this. That sub-baron used a law over 500 years old to deny me a guild permit. And he even took a bribe.”

“If he was going to refuse, he should have at least declined the gift. That’s crossing a line.”

Corbo laughed dryly.

“In a week, I’ll send someone to my mansion, disguised as a hunter. Based on the quality and quantity of the information, I may have more work for you.”

“We’ll bring back results that’ll exceed your expectations.”

When I returned to the mansion, Chloe greeted me at once.

I had told her she could go to bed since I expected to return late, but here she was.

“You’re back, sir.”

That wretched sub-baron had soured my mood.

But seeing Chloe made me feel better.

They say that fathers find the strength to live another day just by having their children greet them when they come home.

Now I understand why.

“Yes, I’m back.”

“Sebastian had prepared a special meal to celebrate your guild. It’s too bad…”

Setting up the guild was supposed to be as simple as submitting one piece of paper, but here we are.

“It’s unfortunate.”

The food wouldn’t go to waste, as the servants would enjoy it.

But it angered me that everyone’s effort to celebrate had been wasted.

“No worries. We can celebrate later.”

I put my hand on Chloe’s head and patted it.

“Not everything in life goes perfectly, right?”

That’s how life is.

Most of it—90%—is hardship and struggle, with less than 10% that feels like happiness.

But finding gratitude in that 10% is what makes life worthwhile.

“When this is all over, let’s go on a picnic outside. I’ll bring plenty of your favorite cake.”@@novelbin@@

Perhaps because of her hard life, Chloe loves sweets more than anyone else around me.

And she eats them with such enjoyment.

Seeing her like that, I ended up eating so much I nearly got sick of it.

‘Sometimes three times a day…’

“But don’t eat too much.”

I couldn’t resist teasing her a little and gave her belly a gentle poke.

Realizing my meaning, Chloe turned away.

“You’re too much.”

She stayed upset about it until the next day.

A week later, the informant arrived at my mansion with more than I’d anticipated.