Hitting a machine might fix it, but hitting a person? There’s really not much of a difference.
As such, the beggars conscripted into the navy through the British Empire-style press gangs were successfully transformed into sailors—or rather, reborn—within just a few days.
“Hey, focus! Didn’t I teach you to use every ounce of your strength when pulling the ropes? Do I need to make you spit out seaweed from your nose?”
“I’m sorry!”
“Sorry doesn’t mean you’re done with sailor life! You want to end up as kraken food in the sea?”
“No!”
“You don’t want that, do you? You came here because you wanted to join, didn’t you? If you volunteered to become a sailor to change your life, then you’d better start performing better than this.”
Before the beggars and lesser nobles got on board, the one being yelled at here would have been a rookie just back from his hundred-day leave in the army.
However, with a bit of luck, this person could quickly rise in rank, like becoming a squad leader right after making corporal.
The one being yelled at just now, though, had recently joined and rapidly gained status, like skipping several steps to become a sergeant.
‘Yesterday, I was at the bottom of the crew, and today, I’m a low-ranking officer?’
It’s the kind of story that feels like something out of a novel, and I understand why he’s venting his frustrations.
“Ha, this is the sea. A ship! On this ship, any mistake you make, you’ll have to take full responsibility for it yourself. Got it?!”
Among the beggars and poorer folk on board, none of them had actually chosen to become sailors voluntarily.
They had all been brought here by my “kind” plan—getting them drunk and offering them a chance for rehabilitation.
But so far, none of them had resisted or tried to start a rebellion.
After bringing them on board, I generously paid them a substantial advance for their wages and actively advertised the opportunity to change their lives.
Although I’d have to yell at them to whip them into shape, I didn’t discriminate when it came to food or clothes.
“By medieval standards, this is pretty good discipline.”
While there were all kinds of corruption among officers—things most ordinary people couldn’t even imagine—there was a whole other level of corruption among the sailors, the lowest-ranked crew. You really couldn’t imagine how bad it was.
“Baron, we’ll be landing soon.”
It had been over three months since I had last come here. I was curious how much things had changed.
Not long after I arrived, Abdullah rushed over to where I was.
“Ah, Baron Rothschild! You’ve arrived! I’m so glad to see you after such a long journey.”
His bowing and humble attitude almost made me think of a eunuch.
Well, I knew his behavior was the result of a thoroughly calculated decision.
‘The only reason Abdullah can serve as the manager here is that I allowed it.’
If I had decided I didn’t like him, he’d be out of this position in an instant.
He knew very well that in order to keep his position, he needed my favor.
“From the look on your face, it seems life here is going well.”
“Yes, although I can’t pile up riches like I did in Nador, all the settlers obey your authority, and they readily cooperate with my requests, making things much easier. Also, I’m thinking of taking a wife here. What do you think?”
In the Goryeo Dynasty, King Wang Geon had as many as 29 wives and concubines.
Some people even joked that his vitality was so strong it could rival that of horses, claiming he could handle all 29 wives, but...
No matter how strong someone is, they can’t handle 29 wives.
If anyone tried that, no matter how fit they were, they'd probably die a “glorious” death the next day.
‘It was all for political reasons that he had so many wives.’
Abdullah was likely in a similar position, thinking he could fulfill his political goals while also securing a young wife for himself.
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“If you send me details about which tribe she’s from, I’ll give you an answer by tomorrow. I’ll make sure to review it positively.”
“Thank you so much, Baron!”
I carefully observed Abdullah’s face as he answered.
From the sly smile on his face, it was clear that he wasn’t only asking for marriage for political reasons.
Who would only think about the political aspects when getting married?
“What's the condition of the settlement?”
Abdullah puffed out his chest proudly.
He pointed toward the city near the docks with his chest out.
“I’ll show you while explaining. I’m sure you’ll be pleased.”
Since Abdullah had shown his abilities in his role, despite being a man with questionable morality, I trusted that he was genuinely doing well.
"Before long, we’ll be surrounded by settlements,” he continued. “We’ve established a small port village near here. It’s a bit of a tight fit with houses close together, but just 100 meters outside this area, we have fields for growing wheat, turnips, barley, and beans.”
Even in major cities like Seoul, New York, or Tokyo, when they were first established, residential areas and farmlands were often close together.
Even today, if you visit areas marked for redevelopment in new cities, you’ll often see old housing blocks and farmlands next to each other.
Of course, a newly founded city can only develop this way, and I could see the future in this.
“Wheat, barley, beans, turnips. I see they’re following my instructions to grow multiple crops.”
“We’ve been trying to grow what suits the land here. People seem to love wheat the most, but if we look at the yield, turnips are the most abundant crop.”
During World War I, the Germans survived on turnips.
Rationing was so bad they ate turnip bread, turnip butter, and turnip stew, and even had turnip steak as a special dish.
It’s called the “turnip winter,” but from another perspective, turnips are a crop that can be grown efficiently on limited land.
‘Although it tastes terrible as a substitute for bread.’
In the future, with population growth, there will certainly be years of famine and hunger.
To prepare for that, turnips must be grown at a certain percentage.
Even if it’s mostly used for animal feed, the turnip harvest will be essential.
“Let’s pick a few plots of land and start crop rotation according to Plan Two.”
“Yes, understood.”
The buildings here were a mix of Ifriqiyan tribal styles and Toscanian Empire architecture.
It was fascinating to see Ifriqiyan and Toscanian people, black and white, naturally mingling in ways I had never seen before in medieval Europe.
Honestly, it felt like seeing a real-life "fantasy" setting.
Then, a couple entered my field of vision.
“May I ask something?”
The husband, who had lived as a refugee in the Tuscan Empire, kneeled down.
He started speaking to his wife in a language I couldn’t understand, with gestures that accompanied it.
Abdullah naturally translated for me.
“He says you should kneel, as you are in the presence of Baron Rothschild.”
“There’s no need for that. This place has its own customs.”
Maybe in two years, once the nobility settle in, it might be necessary.
But for now, there’s no need to force such things.
“What’s your name?”
The refugee answered my question.
“Johannes. Thanks to you, Baron, I’m starting a new life here.”
“How’s life going?”
Johannes smiled brightly in response.
“If I had stayed in the Tuscan Empire, I would’ve ended up a petty thief or worse. But here, I’ve got my own house, I’m not starving, and I get to eat meat twice a week. It’s great.”
The reason for such prosperity here was likely due to the nomadic tribes around the area.
It would be hard to keep this up once meat became scarce.
But for now, it was all good.
“And after I started learning how to farm, the Malik tribe introduced me to a wife.”
“Oh, you’ve already gotten married?”
The reason I specifically brought only single men here wasn’t complicated.
Once the bloodlines mix, I’d be able to naturally control the tribal union they formed.
Although outwardly, Malik would be the leader of the tribe...
‘In reality, this will be my kingdom.’
“She’s two months pregnant. Out of the ten men who settled here, eight have already taken local wives.”
Things were progressing faster than I had expected in terms of assimilation.
“Those who’ve worked as mercenaries here have married the daughters of the tribe’s military and hunting leaders. They’re living as sons-in-law in the tribal villages.”
As expected, the promising candidates for mid-level managers had risen quickly.
“Well, is there anything inconvenient about living here?”
“Not at all.”
In situations like this, people with high status often ask if everything is perfect, but they don’t realize how foolish they sound.
“Well, I’m glad to hear that. Abdullah, let’s head to the tribal union’s meeting place. Hurry and prepare the horses and carriages.”