I Became A Black Merchant In Another World-Chapter 375: Merchants Want to Become Politicians Too (4)

In the 21st century, it's rare for corporate executives to dive into politics.

Except for a certain man whose entire life goal is colonizing Mars, or that bulldozer chairman famous for his "Did you even try?" motto—those are the exceptions.

From a modern, rational perspective, no merchant would blindly jump into politics just because they were given voting rights.

But the Middle Ages were different.

If there was an opportunity to participate in politics, everyone wanted in.

As the Viscount of Rothschild and the owner of the Rothschild Trading Company, I would naturally claim my place as an Imperial Parliament Advisor.

"The good stays with us, the bad gets passed on to others."

"Sebastian."

"Yes, my lord."

"How about I give you a present?"

"What kind of present do you intend to give me?"

I handed him a box sealed with the imperial insignia.

Sebastian hesitated, unable to accept it right away.

"My lord, why would you bestow such an honor upon someone like me...? What exactly is in this box?"

"You’ve worked hard supporting me all this time. Just take it. I won’t deduct it from your bonus, so don’t worry."

"You know I don’t work for the bonus, my lord."

"That may be true for you, but not for everyone else."

Many of the employees at the trading company would walk away without hesitation if their salaries were cut.

Some might even jump ship for better offers elsewhere.

"Loyalty doesn't bind our company—profit does."

Other nobles, and even merchants who owned trading companies, often claimed they were motivated by loyalty rather than money.

But a company owner couldn't afford such illusions.

Otherwise, they’d take one step too far and end up running a "family-like company."

"I consider you family, Sebastian. When Leo grows older, you will be his mentor. In fact, you’ll oversee the education of all the young men in our family. I’ll ensure that no one in the household can challenge your status."

"...My lord."

"To those who serve with unwavering loyalty, reward them beyond measure."

That was the Rothschild family motto.

Sebastian had demonstrated such loyalty.

So, I motioned toward the box.

"Open it."

Our house never engaged in passion pay—not even a hint of it.

If anyone so much as uttered the words passion pay, I would personally hunt them down and destroy them.

That strict principle was what allowed us to prosper.

If even one of my co-conspirators had betrayed me, I wouldn’t be standing here with my head intact.

"I know exactly how it feels to be exploited."

"...I shall open it."

Sebastian gulped and lifted the lid.

Inside was a high-quality parchment document.

As he read it, tears welled up in his eyes.

"...My lord. Do I truly deserve this? An appointment as an Imperial Parliament Advisor?"

"I would’ve taken the role myself to represent the Rothschild Trading Company, but an advisor cannot simultaneously serve as a parliamentary member."

If you are reading this translation anywhere other than Novelight.net or SilkRoadTL, it has been stolen.

It was like trying to be both a military commander and a city mayor—impossible.

So I needed someone I trusted completely to represent the Rothschild Trading Company in my stead.

"Since I'm a noble, stepping back isn't an option."

The correct approach to business was taking everything you could get—so long as it didn't kill you.

The East India Company and the wise scholars of the British Empire had already proven that.

"And as an advisor, you’ll be granted a baronetcy—though only for your lifetime." freewёbn૦νeɭ.com

This was something the nobles had strongly pushed for.

They recognized the rising value of merchants and didn’t object to appointing them as advisors to the Imperial Parliament.

However, they refused to allow commoners to enter the Parliament as mere merchants.

So, as a compromise, merchants appointed as advisors would ⊛ Nоvеlιght ⊛ (Read the full story) be granted baronet status.

France had done something similar.

They bestowed knighthood upon those who taught them swordsmanship—albeit only for a single generation.

Likewise, the Swordmasters’ Guild (which was more like a formal training institution than a fantasy warrior order) ensured that guild masters received noble treatment during their tenure.

"But for you, Sebastian, I went a step further."

"There are two documents inside, right?"

"One is your official Imperial Parliament Advisor appointment. The other is a certificate, personally signed by His Majesty, granting you a baronetcy."

"This means the Maserati family is now a fully recognized baronet house."

"My lord..."

"You’ll be busy assisting me, so while you are technically His Majesty’s vassal now... I’ll be counting on you."

Sebastian fell to both knees, pressing his forehead to the ground.

"I shall never forget this grace—not even in death."

"Then make sure to live a long time. At least until the Rothschild banner flies across the entire New World."

I pulled him to his feet.

"On a day like this, you wouldn’t be able to concentrate on work anyway. Just go home early. Celebrate with your wife, boast to your kids—whatever you like."

Men lived for the validation of their families.

There was even statistical evidence that married men generated three times more economic value than single men.

Sebastian was old enough that he could retire and spend his days doting on his grandchildren...

But human nature didn’t change so easily.

"Thank you, my lord. However, there is one matter that slightly concerns me."

"What is it?"

"Do you truly believe that merchants will compete for these advisory and council positions?"

Even governorships were worthless if the person offered the role wasn’t interested.

Most high-ranking merchants were already busy running their trading companies.

Would they really want to take on additional responsibilities in politics?

Didn’t they care about work-life balance?

But I was certain.

"Oh, they'll kill for it."

Gallios Alios, chairman of the Gallios Alios Trading Company, was gathering all available funds to prepare for the city council election.

"How much liquid capital do we have right now?"

"Seven hundred gold coins."

Fabio dealt with thousands—sometimes tens of thousands—of gold coins as if they were pocket change.

But for a small trading company in a provincial city, even one hundred gold coins was a massive sum.

With that much, one could buy a mansion in a small town.

For a company based in Gallios, a city of 20,000 people, risking 700 gold coins was the equivalent of betting their entire right arm.

"Raise it to one thousand."

"It’s possible, but it would strain next month’s budget."

"You idiot! Do you even understand what happens if we lose this election?"

Gallios Alios sighed deeply in frustration at his subordinate’s ignorance.

Previous city council elections were held among guild masters—who simply backed policies favoring their close associates.

They didn’t actively destroy merchants they didn’t like.

But this election was different.

This time, powerful merchants themselves were the candidates.

"If that Neapolitan bastard wins a council seat, do you have any idea what will happen to us?"

It was obvious.

He would wield every bit of political power to push disadvantageous policies against his competitors.

Of course, if he openly abused his authority, other council members might vote him out.

But there were endless ways to subtly harass rivals.

Citing minor tax violations to impose fines.

Refusing to overlook regulatory gray areas that were previously tolerated.

Calling for random inspections at the most inconvenient times.

Sure, Fabio had built a system where only Rothschild-affiliated merchants were exempt from such abuse...

But no one else in the Empire knew that yet.

"Think logically. Which trading company do you trust more—one run by a council member, or a random merchant?"

"...The one with political backing."

"Exactly. Once I secure a seat, I’ll recoup the election costs through increased sales alone. And if I push for favorable policies, who knows? I might even become a lord’s official vassal someday."

From merchant to noble.

Just like how the Rothschild Viscount had risen from being the second son of a minor noble family to the pinnacle of commerce.

"Prepare for the election. I will win—by any means necessary. Start rallying the local merchants, hold policy meetings, buy food for the inns!"

"Understood!"

And thus, across the Empire, a bloodless but merciless war erupted over Imperial Parliament Advisor and city council seats.

Fabio, of course, remained untouched by the chaos.