Sitting in the division commander’s office, waiting for Baron Ducat, I tapped my fingers on my knee.
“Seems like things are getting busy now that war is about to break out.”
For the poor and ordinary people, war is a catastrophe.
But for the privileged class, war is the best opportunity to make money.
After all, even the two world wars, which cost trillions in national defense budgets, ultimately cemented the U.S. as the dominant power.
For someone like me, aiming for success, this was an opportunity I couldn’t afford to miss, no matter the cost.
“I can’t just settle for logistics work for the division.”
Of course, I’m not dismissing the scale of managing 8,000 soldiers in combat or the thousands of additional workers who join during wartime.
Even just feeding those nearly ten thousand people bread costs dozens of gold coins a day.
But if you want to get rich, you must be as obsessed with money as a certain hobbit was with the One Ring or as miserly as Nolbu saving every grain of rice.
“If I introduce advanced systems that don’t exist in the Empire and prove they can reduce costs...”
The Rothschild Trading Company might secure the logistics contracts for several divisions.
We could even sell our know-how to other trading companies.
‘With operations as large as military supply chains, there’s no way to hide what I’m doing, so I might as well make it public.’
What I’m planning isn’t exactly groundbreaking; most ideas turn out to be simpler than expected once implemented.
That’s why it’s better to sell the system before anyone gets the chance to copy it for free.
That way, I can earn money and curry favor with the Emperor and nobles at the same time.
While I was sorting through my thoughts, the door opened, and Baron Ducat walked in.
Even though I’ve never served in the military, this is a military setting, and I’m a uniformed officer.
When in Rome, do as the Romans do.
I immediately stood up and saluted with perfect form.
“Loyalty!”
“Loyalty. At ease.”
The Baron gave me a satisfied smile as he looked me over.
“You look like a proper young officer in uniform. Very impressive.”
It’s said that compliments can make even a whale dance, but if someone gets too giddy over a few words of praise, they’ll often pay a steep price.
Like those soldiers nearing discharge, being showered with compliments from their sly superiors, who offer them drinks, reminisce with misty eyes, and say things like:
“Hey, it’s tough finding a job out there these days. Why not stay here? You’re a natural ace; you’d excel even as a sergeant.”
They rope in a few naive fools, convincing them to stay on for six months, or even years.
‘I’m not immune to falling for that kind of trap either.’
“Thank you, sir.”
“I’d love to offer you a coffee, but with the war looming, things are hectic. Let’s skip the pleasantries and get to business. What’s your plan?”
“I’d like to pull a little prank before the war begins.”
“What exactly do you have in mind?”
Calling it a prank might be an understatement, but I can guarantee this:
Whoever’s on the receiving end will be utterly flipped upside down.
“I plan to purchase as much grain as possible from the County of Pergamo, where the war will take place.”
It’s a simple tactic, nothing fancy.
Yet Baron Ducat’s reaction was the opposite of unimpressed.
“Buying up the battlefield’s grain before the war? It’s something neither I nor the higher-ups have thought of, but it’s a brilliant move.”
In every country, armies generally source supplies locally whenever possible.
This chapter is updat𝓮d by freēwebnovel.com.
If water is available locally, they use it; the same goes for food.
‘Of course, weapons and ammunition are rarely locally produced due to standardization and doctrinal requirements...’
Still, when wars drag on, safe areas nearby often see the establishment of military factories for direct production.
Even the U.S. military, which provides its soldiers with food, weapons, and welfare decades ahead of other nations, adopts this strategy during prolonged conflicts.
Baron Ducat voiced my exact conclusion.
“This will significantly increase the burden on the Grand Duchy of Milania’s logistics command. Moreover, it’ll thoroughly disrupt their supply plans. If they run into supply issues right before the war, they won’t have time to react.”
Studying Western history inevitably involves brushing up against the basics of war.
While a shallow understanding might not help much in real battles...
Pre-modern wars were often planned over months or even years.
By hoarding grain from the County of Pergamo and inflating food procurement costs for the enemy, we could deliver a critical blow to the foundation of their war plans.
Even if the “tower of war” they’ve painstakingly built doesn’t collapse entirely, it’ll leave cracks in the foundation.
Like the Great Wall of China, which is said to have started crumbling from a single ant hole.
This small variable I’m introducing could eventually influence the outcome of the war.
“Even if we buy up all the grain from Pergamo, the soldiers won’t starve. If they did, they’d either die of hunger or desert.”
Consider the infamous figure in Korean independence history, General Mo Jeon Gu Ryeom Ya, whose achievements would rank him among the greatest patriots if only they were real.
He claimed soldiers could fight on grass alone if they had strong mental fortitude and loyalty to the emperor.
Of course, being of Allied descent, he feasted on meat and indulged in luxuries, but still.
Even the most incompetent officers understand the importance of feeding their troops.
‘Starving soldiers die, after all.’
“However, the quality of the soldiers’ meals will decline. Beer and liquor will be in short supply, and fresh meat will become a dream. Transporting those is expensive and nonessential for survival.”
Many soldiers don’t realize that governments strive to provide the best meals possible for them.
Of course, a chunk of the budget always gets siphoned off under the guise of “rebates” for generals and commanders, but—
‘Food is often the only source of joy in military life.’
This becomes even more crucial during war.
“Marching to their deaths while eating only hardtack, water, and pickled herring will sap their fighting spirit. Even if it strains the budget, soldiers need good food to maintain morale.”
In the Tuscan Empire, soldiers cheer enthusiastically when served something as simple as grilled pork belly.
Imagine their delight if I threw in donuts as a weekly dessert.
Though food alone won’t make them adore me,
At the very least, it will reflect the Emperor and high-ranking officials’ care for the soldiers, reducing complaints and boosting morale.
“This plan will cost my family’s entire fortune, but it will wreck the Grand Duchy’s war preparations. In exchange, I ask the Empire to purchase the grain I procure for the military.”
If I buy up all the grain from the County of Pergamo, it could cover nearly half the expeditionary army’s needs.
“Of course, as a noble of the Empire, I’ll set aside personal greed and serve with loyalty. I’ll supply the grain at half the price of what the camp followers would charge.”
Supplying food to the military typically yields four times the market price.
Camp followers, factoring in hazard pay, charge at least 10 to 50 times the market rate.
In a relatively safe border region like this, the price might inflate to 15 times the base cost.
‘If I can secure profits at 7.5 times the cost with guaranteed demand, it’s a total win.’
“Hmm...”
“Considering the effort of procurement and transportation, this leaves little profit for me.”
Of course, the sheer scale ensures substantial gains despite the low margin.
But that’s a secret between me, the Emperor, and the Baron.
“Very well. I’ll formally request approval from the Ministry of War.”
“Thank you.”