I Became A Black Merchant In Another World

It had been a while since I visited Bioro Village, and the place was nearly unrecognizable. The once dilapidated houses looked well-maintained, and the villagers seemed to have a bit more spring in their step. From inside the carriage, Chloe looked out and murmured quietly, “It’s completely different from a few months ago.”

There was a hint of melancholy in her voice. I gently ruffled her hair, trying to comfort her. After a moment, the coachman called out loudly.

“We’ve arrived at the village chief’s house, sir.”@@novelbin@@

“Understood.”

I moved to step out of the carriage, and Chloe started to follow, but I stopped her. Even though she was my maid and her place was by my side, I knew she wouldn’t want to see certain faces here—faces of people who had once tried to sell her into slavery during a famine.

“You don’t need to follow me around the village,” I told her.

“But…”

“That’s an order. Go to the room I’ll be staying in and continue your studies. Let’s aim for you to be reading on your own by the end of the week.”

I had promised Chloe a small reward for learning to read, hoping it would motivate her to work harder. She gave me a hesitant nod and returned to the carriage as I made my way to the chief’s home.

The village chief greeted me with a face full of gratitude and respect.

“Welcome, my lord!”

“How are things going in the village?”

“Thanks to your generosity, things have improved tremendously,” he replied.

Of course, when someone in a position of power asks, “How’s life?” the answer is always, “Good.” No one wants to be at the receiving end of punishment.

But his enthusiasm wasn’t just lip service. I could see the honesty in his eyes, the way he wrung his hands together—he meant every word.

“Generalizing like that doesn’t help me understand. Be more specific,” I said.

“Well, before, we struggled to have even two meals a day. But now, while it’s not gourmet food, we can eat three full meals daily.”

It’s easy to forget in the 21st century, but in pre-modern times, the frequency and quantity of meals are a direct indicator of economic health. In this era, peasants and commoners spend about 80% of their income on food.

“You wouldn’t be able to eat so well on the relief supplies I provided. How did you manage?”

“We grow seaweed as part of our labor obligations, as you know. But outside those hours, we hunt or gather herbs to sell.”

It’s true—hope for a better life can drive people to incredible lengths, even 12-hour workdays, as it did my parents’ generation.

“Any additional seaweed you collect should be sold directly to me. I trust you know the consequences of selling it elsewhere?”

“A man named Hans tried to sell a small batch to a merchant from a neighboring village. We have his entire family locked up.”

“Hans is to be executed immediately. His family will be spared.”

Allowing others to sell seaweed outside my control would undermine the order I’d worked to establish. Hans would serve as an example, a reminder that betrayal had consequences.

“It’s unfortunate, but it has to be done,” I muttered.

If I wanted to continue selling seaweed as a luxury good, I needed to keep the villagers under control.

“With food secure, the women in the village have been having more children. Every woman able to conceive is now pregnant. In ten months, we’ll have over 140 newborns.”

Short lifespans and early pregnancies are the norm here, but even so, this is surprising. Still, if they feel they can provide for their families, who am I to stop them?

“In a few years, this place could become a small city,” the chief said, a broad smile on his face.

Should that happen, he could become the mayor, and while he wouldn’t own land, he’d gain the recognition of a noble, as mayors often did when a town exceeded 10,000 inhabitants.

“You seem eager. But don’t get too excited just yet.”

“Pardon?”

“I’ve made a lot of money thanks to your hard work, and I think it’s only fair to share. Tonight, we’ll have a festival. Gather every adult in the village.”

I addressed the villagers, now gathered around me.

“I have something important to discuss with you.”

With that, I pointed to Hans, bound beside me.

“First, though, we need to deal with the traitor who betrayed us.”

A mercenary stepped forward, splashing water on his ax in preparation. Hans, bound and desperate, pleaded for his life.

“Please, my lord! I have a wife and children. Spare my life!”

If he had acted out of desperation, I might have shown mercy. But he had betrayed me even after I’d been generous with him.

“Do it.”

The ax fell, and Hans’ head hit the ground. The mercenaries quickly cleared away the body.

“Your hard work in harvesting seaweed has earned me a considerable fortune,” I continued.

The villagers looked at me blankly, unsure of what to expect. In Tuscany, it wasn’t common for nobles to share their wealth with peasants.

“As your lord, I believe it’s only fair to reward your efforts. I will give each household two gold coins.”

Two gold coins—enough for a city-dweller to live on for four years. In this rural area, it was an enormous sum.

Everyone was stunned, even the chief. He hesitated, then spoke.

“My lord, you’ve already waived our taxes and provided food for us. This is too much…”

“Even a peasant deserves a reward for good work. If you don’t want it, you can refuse.”

“No, no, we’re just grateful!” the chief exclaimed, and the crowd joined in, cheering.

“Enjoy it,” I said, smiling. I knew that generosity breeds loyalty, and loyalty breeds hard work.

“Now, let’s talk about the future.”

Everyone’s attention was rapt.

“I plan to turn this village into a port city. We’ll build a harbor, bring in shipbuilders, and create a market. Soon, goods from across the Empire and beyond will flow through here.”

This village had the potential: it was close enough to Florence, the coastline was accessible, and there were enough trees in the surrounding forests to build ships.

“Merchants from Tuscany, Lyon, and beyond will come, bringing wealth and prosperity.”

The villagers buzzed with excitement, even if they couldn’t fully grasp the economic impact. I’d had the benefit of modern education, so I knew exactly what this could mean.

“In a few years, when we’ve built a shipyard and Bioro becomes a bustling port city…” I paused, letting anticipation build.

“...I will free you and your children from serfdom. You will become free citizens.”

The medieval serfdom system was inefficient. When peasants knew they’d be taxed no matter how hard they worked, they didn’t work hard.

“If all goes well, we’ll celebrate with another festival tomorrow. I’ll provide the food and drink, so enjoy yourselves.”

With that, I turned my focus back to expanding trade. My next destination was the Kingdom of Lyon, where I would establish the next step in our plans.