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Translated By Arcane Translations
Translator: Vine
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While there’s much to develop on the coast, the current situation is, frankly, dire.
Though people live here, preventing the houses from turning into ruins…
There’s no sign of livestock like cows or pigs, which should be a village’s primary asset.
And the trees are mostly stripped of their bark, exposing their inner flesh.
The mercenary knight acting as my escort sighed.
“If they’re desperate enough to eat tree bark, they would have become bandits soon.”
If someone asks, “Would you rather starve to death with your family, or become a bandit?”, most people would choose the latter.
Only a saint or a sage wouldn’t waver in the face of starvation and despair.
“Have you gathered all the villagers?”
“I’ve gathered them in the square in front of the village head’s house.”
If this were 21st-century Korea, I wouldn’t need to gather the villagers.
I could just discuss and agree on important matters with the village head and then make an announcement.
But in a world where authority trumps equality, I, as the lord, must appear in person to demonstrate my authority and benevolence.
Only by seeing the firmness of the ruler’s power will the villagers feel at ease.
As I approached, the mercenaries surrounding the villagers shouted,
“It’s the Lord! Show your respect!”
Upon hearing the command, they immediately knelt and prostrated themselves.
This is completely different from the common image of kneeling on one knee and bowing one’s head, which we associate with the Middle Ages.
The relationship between serfs and lords is, to exaggerate slightly, like that of master and slave.
So, such prostration is expected.
“You may raise your heads and sit comfortably. And who is the village head?”
An elderly man with a bald head answered.
“I am Diego, the village head of Bio.”
“The village seems to be in dire straits. Can you elaborate?”
I can tell just by looking at the villagers’ appearances.
Even the village head is gaunt, his clothes worse than rags.
The other villagers are, to exaggerate slightly, only slightly better off than African refugees.
Only a fool wouldn’t grasp the current situation.
“Oh dear, oh dear, my Lord…”
The villagers, including the village head, prostrated themselves again.
And they all wailed and sobbed.
With over 300 villagers crying out at once, I can’t understand what they’re saying, but…
They’re probably begging for mercy, saying their families are starving to death.
Only a psychopath wouldn’t feel sympathy for them.
But even with sympathy, I mustn’t forget to assert my authority.
“I asked you a question, village head. What is the current state of the village?”
“As you can see, my Lord. We ran out of food a month ago and have resorted to eating our cows, chickens, even dogs. We’re eating anything we can find.”
Diego started weeping.
The reality of starving to death due to poverty and weakness must feel cruel.
Having never experienced hunger, both in this world and my previous life, I can’t fully understand how they feel, but…
What must it be like to watch your villagers, your wife, and your children die?
It must be horrifying, beyond my imagination.
“We’re all going to die if this continues. So, we were planning to sell the orphans to buy food to survive the year.”
By 21st-century standards, this village head deserves to be executed.
But in this world, it’s considered a rational act.
Concepts like human rights and equality only matter when you have enough to eat.
In a life-or-death situation, sacrificing the few to save the many is necessary.
“My Lord, please have mercy on us.”
I will, of course, exempt them from taxes and provide food aid to prevent starvation.
I came prepared, having heard about their dire situation. I hired mercenaries and brought flour, salt, and everything needed to rebuild the village.
“Showing mercy is my prerogative.”
But showing mercy indiscriminately will make you a target.
Public officials at community centers in 21st-century Korea are subjected to unimaginable abuse from those receiving basic living allowances, a government welfare benefit.
Their reasoning is that since they’re poor, the government is obligated to help them.
While it’s the government’s duty to care for the poor, why does receiving care become a privilege…?
Even in this world with its social hierarchy, though it might not be as extreme, the village head would try to haggle for tax reductions, having succeeded once.
To prevent that, I need to at least pretend to receive something in return.
“What does this village produce?”
“Our village is by the sea, so we fish, gather shellfish, and farm. That’s all.”
“I’ll decide what’s useful and what isn’t. Tell me everything, even if it’s just weeds.”
My perspective differs from that of the people in this world.
So, what seems useless to them might be a treasure to me.
“…There’s a weed in the mountains that causes stomach aches if you eat it when you’re really hungry. And there’s seaweed that grows on the rocks by the sea.”
Seaweed… is it kelp?
Seaweed soup is very good for pregnant women.
And since it’s something people in the Toscana Empire don’t eat, I can sell it to nobles at a high price, claiming it’s a health tonic for pregnant women.
“The seaweed is slimy and a bit salty, but edible.”
It’s definitely kelp.
Others might not recognize its value, but to me, it’s brown gold.
With a little seasoning, I could sell it for a fortune, right?
Since I can’t collect taxes from these people anyway, I’ll take this seaweed instead.
“Considering your circumstances, I’ll accept that seaweed, or rather, kelp, as payment this year. Gather about 100 kg, and cultivate the rest as I instruct.”
“As you wish.”
“If you keep your promise, I’ll consider your taxes paid and provide relief supplies.”
The village head looked dumbfounded.
Normally, they would be profusely grateful for tax exemption and relief supplies in exchange for useless seaweed.
That’s the norm in the Toscana Empire.
‘I’m being considerate by accepting weeds as tax payment.’
He stammered,
“Are you sure, my Lord?”
With the money I’m making, I can easily afford to exempt this village from taxes.
Or rather, I could feed them all without making a dent in my wallet.
The village head suddenly started rubbing his hands together.
“We are eternally grateful for your generosity, my Lord.”
“I’m just doing my duty.”
The people pay taxes, and the lord protects them in return.
Anyone who can’t even do this doesn’t deserve to be a lord.
“In gratitude for your kindness, I would like to offer my daughter as a servant. What do you think?”
A lord has the power of life and death over serfs.
But serfs are still human and seek their own well-being and some semblance of power.
Village Head Diego must have thought…
That if his daughter becomes my servant and earns my favor, his own treatment will improve.
Moreover, since I’m a hot-blooded 20-year-old, he’s probably factoring in the possibility of me causing trouble.
The village head presented his daughter.
She’s as beautiful as he confidently claimed.
With a bit of cleaning up and proper meals, she would be stunning, easily university-level beauty.
“She’s certainly beautiful, but you dare try this with me? Do you want to die?!”
“I, I had pure intentions…”
Most male nobles, especially young masters my age, would find it hard to refuse a servant of her beauty.
Even for me, suppressing my desires isn’t easy.
And I might even consider making him a relative through marriage and entrusting him with village management.
But more than his daughter’s beauty or the potential benefits…
I despise his intentions, his attempt to exploit the lord’s authority for personal gain.
I need to make an example of him.
I drew my sword and pointed it at the village head’s neck.
“Did you think I wouldn’t see through your scheme? Did you think I wouldn’t notice your attempt to offer your daughter to me to maintain your meager power?”
Even a construction foreman gets a bit of an ego.
So, a village head with over 300 people under him must wield considerable power.
“From now on, you can only exercise that power with my permission.”
Despite pointing a sword at his neck, I have no intention of killing him.
I don’t have any desire to kill someone for this, and imagine the unrest it would cause if the new lord kills the village elder on his first day.
So, drawing my sword to assert my authority is sufficient.
The village head’s pants became wet.
“Village Head, no, I’m telling all of you this just once. Don’t even think of challenging my authority.”
I’m going to introduce technologies to this village that will bring prosperity.
And for that, security is paramount.
And security, in this era, comes from fear of the ruler.
“If you respect and are loyal to my authority, I will provide relief supplies generously and without any conditions, as I have today. Furthermore, I will ensure that you all have enough to eat.”
I’m not a philanthropist.
I don’t intend to save all the serfs in the Toscana Empire from famine.
But I won’t let anyone under my rule starve.
“Conversely, if you disregard my authority, there will be consequences.”
Regardless of open communication, hierarchy is essential in any organization.
Without it, things fall apart.
And now that I think about it, kelp is practically brown gold to me…
But it’s just seaweed to these villagers.
They’ll be suspicious if I accept that and provide relief supplies in return.
Sigh, I guess I’ll take in the orphans in exchange for sparing his life.
They’re under my care now, and I should protect those within my reach.
“Since the Village Head seems uneasy about offering just kelp, I’ll also take in the village orphans.”
Having taken them under my wing, I should educate them and help them find suitable employment, or have them work for me.
Among the orphans, one girl particularly caught my eye.
Black hair, black eyes, snow-white skin, full lips, and a small face.
Her skin is so white, it looks naturally flawless.
I almost blurted out,
‘She’s a walking idol.’
And she’s quite, no, remarkably well-endowed, with a great figure.
You need status to become a courtesan, but with her looks, all she needs is some refinement.
She’s breathtakingly beautiful.
I now understand why the villagers tried to sell the orphans to survive the famine.
With her beauty, slave traders would pay a fortune.
“What’s your name?”
“Chloe, my Lord.”
I haven’t even held a woman’s hand since I was reincarnated.
So, I guess I can have a beautiful woman as a servant, like other nobles.
“From now on, you’re my personal maid. Stay by my side at all times.”
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