"I'm a noble, but I'm also a merchant. Naturally, I'd never do business at a loss."
Street vendors in traditional markets might tell customers, "I'm selling at a loss, so take it for cheap," to appeal to housewives.
But even at larger neighborhood supermarkets, they might use phrases like "shock discounts" or "special offers," but they never outright claim to sell at a loss.
Why? Because both the shoppers and the store owners are there to make money—no one expects a business to operate at a loss.
And here I am, a merchant who has already amassed immense wealth through trade in the Toscan Empire.
Would the Marquis, who’s seen countless people like me, believe I’d sell at a loss?
The Marquis nodded in agreement.
"Indeed, there's no way Baron Rothschild would recklessly take on military supplies at a loss."
A merchant must never engage in business at a loss under any circumstances.
While it might seem like just losing money in the short term, it also means losing trust in the long term.
Of course, there are exceptions—sometimes you have to honor contracts even if you know you'll lose money.
Because if you lose trust trying to make a bit more money now, no one will work with you in the future.
It's about sacrificing for greater profit later.
"But I didn’t take on this supply contract solely to make money."
The Marquis raised an eyebrow.
"Ha, are you saying money wasn’t your top priority? Even though I'm just a backwater noble defending the frontier and have no place in politics, I still understand how central politics operates."
War is an extension of politics and diplomacy in their most extreme forms.
Thus, while the military might seem detached from central politics, it’s actually deeply intertwined.
Generals can’t engage in politics, but politicians can wield generals and armies.
Naturally, the Marquis Ragusa would be desperate to keep tabs on central politics, even if he couldn’t participate directly—his and his family’s survival depended on it.
Knowing what's happening is the only way to prepare.
"In social circles—specifically Duke Sforza’s faction—they’ve started calling you the 'Golden Moth.' They say you chase gold as recklessly as a moth flies into fire."
"Is that so?"
The more successful you are, the more people envy you.
It’s the same reason people say to downplay a good job or act poor even if you’re wealthy.
Even those closest to you might betray you.
Especially among nobles, who pretend to be amicable while constantly scheming behind each other’s backs, it’d be strange if they weren’t envious.
"So, what is it that you truly want?"
If I were just another young noble, I could say, "To build honor and show loyalty to His Majesty, as is my duty."
Then the Marquis would probably shake my hand and say:
"You truly are a shining example of the Empire’s nobility! Ha-ha!"
But who am I?
I’m Fabio de Rothschild, Baron Rothschild, the man known as the most money-obsessed person in the Toscan Empire.
Yet if I outright said, "I’m just doing this to make money," it could hinder my plans to monopolize the military food supply.
The man in front of me holds more influence over the military than even Duke Visconti in this context.
He’s practically a Margrave in all but name.
"Those who only pursue money become slaves to it. Like moths drawn to flames, blinded by gold, they’ll perish for it."
Someone who’s only obsessed with immediate gains will never become truly wealthy.
If you focus solely on money, you’ll lose your judgment, fall for scams, or ruin your health.
"To make serious wealth, you need to think long-term."
"Furthermore, I’m not just some common merchant—I’m a noble of the Toscan Empire. If I were to obsess over money alone, who would remain by my side?"
In a premodern society, isolation was tantamount to death.
If a serf were ostracized from their village, they’d fail to finish their farming in time, leading to the ruin of their harvest.
For nobles, it’s akin to being isolated in parliament—regardless of party affiliation, everyone would conspire to bring you down.
While the Marquis’s title might be nominally detached from politics, he still understood the stakes.
"You're right. A common merchant might be excused for being greedy, but for an honorable noble of the Toscan Empire, it’s unacceptable. No one would want to sit at the same table as someone who values money above all else."
"And yet, I’m at risk of being seen as someone who would sell out honor and loyalty for gold. That’s why I kept my profits to the bare minimum this time, to demonstrate my loyalty as a noble of the Empire."
Why do major corporations donate to welfare facilities or pretend to care for the socially disadvantaged?
Partially for tax breaks, but also because appearing compassionate reduces the risk of consumer backlash.
In this continent, honor outweighs coexisting with the disadvantaged. Hence, I’m pursuing honor.
"This time, I sacrificed 40,000 gold coins in profits."
Military supply contracts—especially during wartime—typically have staggering profit margins.
Excluding costs and logistics, margins are often over 90%.
Had I taken the same margins as other merchants, I could’ve easily pocketed that amount.
Even if other merchants audited this, they’d arrive at the same conclusion.
The Marquis sighed at my words.
"With that kind of money, you could fully outfit a division from scratch and still have funds left over for a year’s budget."
"I have no regrets—I’ve gained the honor I need as an imperial noble."
It’s like the famous quote: “Have you tried it?” The founder of a global conglomerate once said that maintaining trust and image was worth risking bankruptcy.
Whether it was completing national infrastructure projects at a loss or finishing impossible wartime constructions by selling family homes and borrowing money, he had unparalleled long-term vision.
Likewise, I have no regrets because I need to secure my honor now to reap greater rewards later.
A warm smile appeared on the Marquis's face.
"Compared to other military contractors, you’re far superior. Common merchants lack honor, but you understand your duty and preserve it."
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"Thank you."
"If nothing else, I think we can safely entrust the soldiers’ rations entirely to you."
This man holds tremendous influence over the military.
With both the emperor and Marquis Ragusa backing me, I could potentially control all food supplies consumed by the army.
"The scale of profit is beyond imagination."
While peacetime margins would be slimmer...
Steady, large-scale demand would still generate enormous revenue.
"And there’s one more thing I’d like to ask."
The Marquis grinned, throwing in a lighthearted joke.
"If you’re asking for an official commission, I’d accept."
Being a 23-year-old "fantasy figure" colonel who becomes a two-star general and division commander before 30? Over my dead body.
"Your joke is a bit harsh, sir."
The Marquis chuckled, his shoulders shaking.
"True, the military would be far too confining for someone like you. My mistake."
"To live long, one must know what they can and cannot do, wouldn’t you agree?"
"Quoting my own words back to me? How cheeky. After this war, we’ll have to share a drink. I’ll prepare a potent brew as your punishment."
I composed myself and made a small request.
"Would it be possible for me to purchase the flintlocks, swords, spears, and armor looted by the soldiers? I’ll buy them at 10% above market value."
Weapons and armor looted from battlefields don’t sell well.
Buying them at 10% above market value is usually a loss.
"In normal circumstances, anyway."
But I have buyers willing to pay exorbitant prices for such items.
Selling to them could net me several times the purchase price.
"I almost feel guilty. But knowing you, you won’t take a loss. Consider it done."
"Thank you."
Hearing my thanks, the Marquis stood and left.
Soon after, news spread through the army that the Toscan Empire had secured favorable terms in the peace negotiations.