I Became A Black Merchant In Another World

In a clearing far from my village of Bio, over a thousand people had gathered.
Though they varied in gender and age, they all shared one common trait:
None of them could find stable work or settle down in their hometowns.
I was here to offer them a new opportunity.

“I am Fabio de Medici, your new lord,” I announced.

Despite my introduction, the people below the platform murmured amongst themselves.
Serfs, who rarely left their home villages, had suddenly been brought to a strange place to meet an unfamiliar lord, so it’s natural they would be nervous.
In our empire, everyone knows that moving to a new place means hardship, so being uneasy is normal.

However, with so many people gathered here, I couldn’t possibly take the time to calm each one individually.
I gave instructions to the mercenary captain.

“Strike the ground a few times with your spear to get their attention.”
“Yes, understood.”

Following my orders, he turned to the serfs and barked,
“Who taught you to yap when your lord is speaking? Quiet, all of you!”

I’ll have to remind them to use more refined language going forward.
If they keep yelling at the serfs like that, it’s bound to make them cry.

“I’ll repeat myself. I am Fabio de Medici, your lord. This area and the surrounding lands don’t have proper names, so let’s call this place Vergello. Forget where you came from and whom you served. From now on, you are all serfs of Vergello.”

No one can truly forget their hometown just because they’re told to.
What I really want is for them to think of themselves as natives of this place, Vergello, and to live here as if they’ll stay even after they die, their spirits bound to this land.
I’ll do my part to foster a sense of attachment to their homes and workplaces.

“Where are you serfs from?” I asked.

The serfs, who were hesitantly eyeing the mercenaries, quickly gave the answer I wanted.

“We are serfs of Vergello.”
“Good. From now on, you will live your entire lives here in Vergello.”

Now that they know they belong here,
it’s time to let them know just how generous I’ve been and what work lies ahead.
These serfs may not be educated, but they know well what it means for a man to be without land or for a woman to be unable to marry.
Surely, they’re somewhat grateful for the meals I’ve been providing.
It’s best to highlight that while I can, to win over their hearts.

“Leaving your hometown to live in a foreign place isn’t easy; I know that well. And here, you’ll be doing work that isn’t farming.”

Humans are naturally wary of and resistant to things they haven’t tried before.
Just as students would rather play than study something new, or seek out familiar foods at home,
for those who’ve never left their village, something new can be terrifying.

However, new tasks often become less daunting after the first or second try.
“Some of you will weave cloth, others will spin yarn, while some will shear wool or cultivate cotton.”

In my mind, I hold the basic principles of the marvelous machinery that drove the early Industrial Revolution, like steam engines, spinning machines, and looms.
It’s not much, just simple details like using springs to make the shuttle of the loom, the Flying Shuttle, move back and forth easily.
Excluding the steam engine, most of the technical issues were resolved by hiring skilled, unemployed craftsmen.

To prevent knowledge leaks, I’ll provide ample pay, housing, and even arrange marriages for them.
At first, mixing craftsmen and serfs might seem uncomfortable, but the village’s isolated nature will help them bond over time.

“This work will be harder than the farming you’ve done since childhood. But think about it—can any of you, as adults, truly secure the right to farm and live off your own land?”@@novelbin@@

The people of Bio village, who will soon transition from serfs to citizens, were on the brink of starvation while trying to restore farmlands after a poor harvest.
Here, the gathered serfs are those who couldn’t even inherit tenant farming rights. For men, it was either a thug’s life, while for women, prostitution was the only way.
Both professions are disgraceful, requiring them to forsake their pride just to earn a penny.

“But you’re fortunate that I chose you. Thanks to me, none of you have missed a meal since coming here.”

Although I’ve tried to erase the memories of being a 21st-century Korean,
the thought of my subordinates going hungry is unbearable to me.

“I’ll ensure that if you do the work assigned to you, you’ll have three meals a day. Once a month, you’ll even have your fill of meat. So for just one month, work as hard as you can.”

I learned this from managing the serfs in Bio village.
The life of a serf is such that no matter how hard they work all year, most of their produce is taken away, leaving them barely enough to survive.
What reason do they have to put in effort? They’d rather starve now for immediate relief.
It’s cruel to expect people who’ve lived like that to strive for too long.

‘One month is doable; they’ll likely feel it’s worth a try.’

“Since I’m here today, I’ll grant you a special treat of meat.”

Outside of Thanksgiving or Christmas, serfs rarely taste meat.
It’s not that they never have it, but the portions are often tiny.

“Eat to your heart’s content, and from tomorrow, follow the craftsmen’s instructions to build your homes and factories. Prove your worth. That’s all.”

If the village here had about 300 people, like in Bio, I might have brought a loom or spinning machine to demonstrate myself.
But in front of thousands, a demonstration would be absurd.

“Mercenary captain.”
“Yes, my lord.”

The captain seemed unable to decide whether to meet my gaze or avoid it, repeatedly looking away and then back.
Mercenaries in our Toscana Empire are famously money-driven.
It’s joked that they’d betray their side mid-battle if offered more money.

‘Still, they maintained order and managed a semblance of governance in my absence.’

“There’s meat and wine on another cart for you. After the serfs have eaten, you may have your share. And I’ll be giving a bonus of 50 gold coins.”

I hired a sizable force to manage these impoverished individuals, who, by medieval fantasy standards, are almost inherently viewed as potential criminals.
With 500 mercenaries, each will receive about one silver coin.
If I had the status to employ regular soldiers, I’d have paid them half that.
I can afford it, but it’s a bit painful to pay so much.

“It’s an honor, my lord.”

After a brief conversation with the craftsmen, I met with Cris,
who was discussing future plans with Sebastian.

“Head steward, we should consider selling our textiles to the heathens if we produce them in large quantities.”
“I’m hesitant about dealing with heathens…”
“Money is money, regardless of its origin. Plus, selling textiles to them and trading for coffee could increase our profits by around 8%.”

I can see why Cris’s father allowed his daughter to become a merchant.
Within days of starting, she’s having serious business discussions and can talk as an equal.

Cris greeted me and asked,
“My lord, have you considered where to sell the goods? Selling to the heathens could be beneficial.”

It’s a good idea, but it’s premature.
In this era, textiles are a miraculous commodity that sells without price drops, no matter how much you produce.
The textile industry was a driving force in the early Industrial Revolution.

“Selling to the Alsini Trading Company would work, but for now, let’s establish a sales route through Mayor Guillaume to the Kingdom of Lyon. We’ll also need to secure sources to buy as much wool and cotton as possible.”

Sebastian and Cris both looked at me with curiosity.

“Even with new machines and all these people, textiles aren’t so easy to produce, are they?”

It’s difficult to explain.
I haven’t personally spun yarn or woven fabric, after all.

So, I’ll just have to say,
“If it doesn’t work, I’ll take full responsibility. I believe we’ll be able to handle whatever I bring in.”

The current textile manufacturing technology here is at a medieval to early modern level, while I’ve introduced early Industrial Revolution methods.

“Whoever controls textiles will eventually dominate the market. So let’s move quickly.”

This isn’t an exaggeration.
One of the reasons the British could dominate the world was because they mass-produced and sold textiles during the Industrial Revolution, using the profits to make weapons and more.