I Became A Black Merchant In Another World

The concept of "sustainable development" often gets thrown around.

It may sound as absurd as a ghost peeling candy, considering that development accelerates environmental destruction and global warming.

To put it more bluntly, it’s about squeezing nature for as long as possible while only damaging it just enough to avoid total collapse.

It’s not unlike how small businesses sometimes give employees every other Saturday off or toss in a spam gift set for the holidays.

“Cornering the market to monopolize profits also needs to be sustainable. Let’s face it—life rarely changes from a single windfall. Don’t you think so, Chris?”

The Tuscany Empire has no lotteries or stock markets.

If you want to earn money, the fastest way is by steadily growing a business or engaging in honest trade. But even that doesn’t mean small investments will turn your life around overnight.

“Yes, indeed. My father always said to steer clear of those who gamble on quick, easy wins. They’re bound to fail.”

People, organizations, and even nations that bet everything on a single gamble always end up losing it all.

Take Japan, for example—the self-proclaimed Greater Japan Empire.

They tried to seize Southeast Asia from Britain and the United States, deploying large-scale forces using bicycles. Neither Britain nor the U.S. expected such a tactic, so Japan managed an initial counterattack with surprising speed.

But their success went to their heads. Obsessed with the "decisive fleet battle" doctrine, they bet their entire navy on a single gamble at Midway and Guadalcanal—and lost everything.

“But won’t other generals oppose us monopolizing the supply market? Do you have a plan for that?”

“I just have to make them think that my monopoly benefits them more than anyone else.”

Even elementary schoolers know monopolies are bad.

But in the military supply market, especially with current demand—or even after this war ends, when weapons and ammunition may be less relevant—food is the one thing I need to monopolize completely.

To do that, I have to shatter even the most obvious truth—“Monopolies are bad”—that even those who grumble about bus fares know by heart.

‘That’s the only way I can control the food supply for the military.’

“The method is always simple: I just need to create the illusion that I’m unlike other merchants. That I care more about the country than profits.”

I may not have the hypnosis skills of Won Gyun, who could trick even a king into choosing subpar commanders over geniuses like Yi Sun-sin or Gwon Yul.

But I do have the ability to make high-ranking officials believe whatever suits my goals.

I can’t create something out of nothing, but I can make a $100 investment look like $1,000.

That much, at least, is well within my reach.

While others collude and cut corners to invest $50, I’ll invest $100, giving soldiers a reason to favor me over them.

“That’s why I came all the way to this Chef Guild.”

As I opened the guild doors, I was immediately granted an audience with the Guild Master.

Power truly makes anything possible, doesn’t it?

The Chef Guild Master couldn’t hide his unease at the sight of me.

He forced a smile, but his expression practically screamed profanity.

“What brings the Baron Rothschild to our humble establishment today?”

It’s like he’s asking what scheme I’m up to now, even though this is our first meeting.

Honestly, I almost feel insulted.

All I did was open Restaurant Rothschild to introduce free-market competition into the culinary sector monopolized by the guild.

Sure, it may have disrupted the Chef Guild of Tuscany, which hadn’t faced real competition for centuries, but...

This time, I’ve done nothing shady. The fact that they couldn’t adapt is on them.

“I’ve come to ask for a favor.”

Hearing that, the Guild Master frowned deeply.

Well, I can’t claim I’ve lived my life with a spotless conscience.

Sure, I’ve borrowed the wisdom of the British Empire and the baguette-loving French at times, but I haven’t lived that terribly, have I?

All I’ve ever done is fulfill people’s desires and take my fair share of compensation.

By corporate standards, I’m practically a saint.

“I’d like to hire some chefs. Particularly those who’ve been working in well-regarded inns.”

“But hasn’t Restaurant Rothschild already taken most of our Empire’s top chefs? I can’t understand why you’d want to hire those who cook for merchants and commoners.”

The Guild Master sounded as though I was the bad guy here.

I simply compensated skilled chefs fairly for their talent and expertise.

If a Michelin-star-worthy chef is earning just one silver coin a month, it’s only right to raise their pay five- to tenfold.

Naturally, those who couldn’t resist the allure of cash flocked to me.

If he’s asking why I want to hire these chefs, it’s probably to steal my business secrets.

“I need them to cook for soldiers. While I’d love to provide every soldier with gourmet meals, the reality is that there’s not enough money for that.”

No matter how much the military improves, serving hotel-grade meals to every soldier is impossible.

Military rations have their limitations.

Some officers and soldiers might describe the slop served at training camps as "five-star hotel cuisine" for a bit of brownie points or under pressure from peers.

But I’m sure whoever claimed that was lovingly chewed out later.

If I want to turn a profit while improving soldier meals, I need to aim for realistic goals.

“We should make meals as delicious as possible while staying within the limits of what an average soldier can afford.”

Hearing this, the Guild Master nodded.

“Indeed, there are limits to how tasty food can be at a certain price point. To go beyond that, you’d inevitably have to spend more. And if you’re running a business, you can’t afford to fixate on taste to the point of losing money.”

“Chefs cook to make a living, after all.”

“I understand your intentions. But will chefs from well-regarded inns or restaurants even want to join the military?”

Even in Tuscany’s medieval fantasy military, doctors receive decent treatment.

But among technical roles, only doctors are truly respected.

Cooks, meanwhile, are treated as glorified laborers.

“Hire only chefs with over ten years of experience and proven skills. Cap it at 500 nationwide.”

In any era, running a food business is tough.

Here, the competition isn’t cutthroat, so if your food is passable, you can at least scrape by.

‘The problem is, that’s all they can do—barely scrape by.’

Chefs with over a decade of experience, those skilled enough to qualify as masters in other guilds, tend to avoid independence.

“Offer a salary of two silver coins per month, plus a referral fee of 20 gold coins to the guild. That should be enough to attract experienced chefs who aren’t keen on going independent.”

“That’s sufficient. But we’re also struggling to recruit chefs…”

Well, they are a sizable organization.

Offering 20 gold coins a month wouldn’t move them.

“Call it a referral fee, but really, it’s payment for the guild to vouch for their skills. As for qualified chefs…”

The money I’m spending now will later serve as proof of my sacrifice and patriotism when I pitch my monopoly to the Emperor or the Minister of War.

For that, I need to go beyond conventional spending limits.

“Five hundred gold coins.”

“Excuse me?”

“I’ll pay it all upfront.”

I pulled out a check and wrote “500 gold coins” on it.

“Bring it to the Rothschild estate, and you’ll get your gold.”

The Guild Master carefully accepted the check.

It wasn’t enough to sway the entire guild, but it was far from a trivial amount.

“And if this works out, we can discuss even bigger projects in the future.”

Leaving that door open for future collaboration, I headed off to report to the 1st.