I Became A Black Merchant In Another World-Chapter 379: The Merchant of Death, Fabio (2)

Baron Platz was furious at my brazen response.

"You, Viscount Rothschild! Do you have a face made of iron? Our army has just secured victory at Breitenfeld thanks to Deus' divine favor and the exceptional command of the Elector of Wittenberg, and while collecting the spoils, we found a massive cache of weapons manufactured in the Toscani Empire!"

Being interrogated like this reminded me of something a friend once told me over drinks before he got arrested for his crimes.

"If the police present you with clear evidence and demand a confession, just admit it—at least you might get a lighter sentence.

But if you committed a crime and they tell you they have all the evidence but never actually show anything concrete, deny everything to the bitter end.

Because what they’re trying to do is use your confession as their only real proof to lock you up."

This was exactly that situation.

Yeah, I sold weapons to both the Emperor and you Wittenberg bastards.

Judging by how he’s talking, though, he doesn’t have any solid proof.

"It seems you didn’t hear me properly, so I’ll answer again. What does that have to do with me?"

"Viscount Rothschild! Didn’t you swear allegiance to the Elector of Wittenberg if you managed to get through this situation unscathed? I am here as his representative, and I have every reason to suspect you!"

So, he wanted to play a battle of wills?

Pathetic.

This attempt was amateurish at best.

Raising your voice and showing anger only reveals your emotions. That, in turn, makes it easier for your opponent to manipulate you and find the weaknesses in your argument.

That’s exactly why those who pull the strings always smile, no matter the situation.

By not showing any emotion, they leave no openings—no room for their opponents to exploit.

Even when cornered, acting relaxed can make your opponent hesitate, thinking, Does this bastard know something I don’t?

There’s a reason some old-school power players say, "Never raise your voice. It makes you look weak."

"Are you telling me that His Highness the Elector of Wittenberg is the kind of man who would suspect a vassal based on baseless accusations? It seems I have misjudged him."

"You refuse to answer the accusations I present as his representative?"

"I find it deeply offensive that I am being suspected without any clear evidence. So offensive, in fact, that I must repeat myself twice just to express my displeasure."

"...You are utterly shameless."

"Would it not be a far greater act of disloyalty to admit to crimes I have not committed?"

Truthfully, I had committed plenty of crimes.

Duke Sforza had the audacity to forcefully extract a 'donation' of twenty thousand gold coins from me. And with the Papacy involved in that affair...

I figured, why not take down the Holy Roman Empire's financial backbone along with it and spark a Reformation while I was at it?

So, I started a civil war.

Oh, and let’s not forget—I was playing both sides as a double agent.

But in every legal system, there’s an unspoken rule: You only have to answer for what you get caught doing.

If they don’t catch you, it’s not a crime.

You fools have no authority to judge me.

"Explain yourself."

"Before that, allow me to address something first."

"And what might that be?"

Showing any sign of fear would make me an easy target.

Conversely, if I maintained a confident posture, they wouldn’t dare underestimate me.

"I am a viscount and the lord of the Rothschild estate. That means my title is a rank higher than yours, Baron Platz. And yet, I have shown you respect and addressed you formally because you are my elder."

"And what exactly are you getting at?"

"You, however, are of lower rank than I. Even though I serve as a dual vassal, the Elector himself addresses me as 'Viscount.' I suggest you remember your place and show the proper respect due to a superior noble. By speaking down to me, you insult not only me but also the Elector’s authority."

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

In the military, a general with stars on his shoulders may seem like a god to soldiers inside the chain of command.

But the moment he steps outside the military, his authority disappears.

He’s just another old man living off a generous pension.

However, if a lowly private dares to speak to a general in a disrespectful manner while still in the army...

Well, let’s just say that private is in for a world of pain.

At best, he’ll be chewed out so badly he’ll wish he were dead.

At worst, he’ll be court-martialed for insubordination and enjoy a free trip to military prison.

That was exactly what I was implying here.

"You are undermining the Elector of Wittenberg’s authority. Are you trying to commit insubordination?"

And by pretending to care about the Elector’s honor, I was also reinforcing my supposed loyalty to him.

Because in the end, whether I was a CEO or a vice president in his service didn’t really matter—he was doomed either way.

"I beg your forgiveness, Viscount."

"I will not forget this insult. Now, let’s proceed with the explanation."

Taking a deep breath, I responded with confidence.

"Firstly, while I appreciate the exaggerated reputation of being 'the greatest merchant of the Toscani Empire'... I do not have the power to control every single merchant within the empire."

"Is that so?"

"Think about it logically. The only people I can command at will are those directly employed by the Rothschild Trading Company. If some random merchants decide to get drunk during work hours or set fire to another town, I have no way of stopping them."

"I have heard that His Majesty the Emperor of Toscani trusts you deeply. Couldn’t you use imperial authority to put a stop to this?"

Truthfully, if I wanted to, I could.

With the Toscani navy and my private Rothschild fleet, I wouldn’t be able to catch every smuggler, but I could easily wipe out half of them.

And the moment those smugglers realized the empire was cracking down, they’d stop selling goods to the Emperor.

Which, incidentally, would be a problem, since I’m the one orchestrating those sales in the first place.

Why in the world would I sabotage my own business?

"Would it make sense for a mere noble to overstep and seize control of the empire’s military? I’m not even an officer."

"...That is true."

"The merchants of the Toscani Empire are not fools. Of course, they would sell to the Holy Roman Empire’s false emperor. After all, whether the money comes from him or the Elector, gold is gold."

In every country, the illicit profits from crime, once restitution has been paid to the victims, all end up in the treasury as government funds.

Because money itself is never guilty.

It’s the people holding the money who are to blame.

"The same logic applies to the sale of weapons and provisions."

"A most logical argument."

"And, if I may, I must protest one thing most vehemently."

I wasn’t upset in the slightest.

But right now, I needed to act like I was.

Just like how modern politicians pretend to enjoy cheap street food during election season, I had to make it convincing.

"I assume you are aware that the Kingdom of Lyon has now entered the war. In the Toscani Empire, there is growing sentiment to march on the Holy Roman Empire."

"Is that true?"

"What reason would I have to lie? To put it bluntly, another’s misfortune is one’s opportunity. Many in the empire see this as their chance to seize Holy Roman territory."

This was no lie.

Every noble in the Toscani Empire, from the Emperor himself down to the lowest baron, was simply waiting for the right moment to pounce.

"Just stopping those people from acting rashly has been exhausting. Consider this: how much effort would a mere viscount have to expend to stop an entire empire from going to war?"

"A most reasonable statement."

People only {N•o•v•e•l•i•g•h•t} see what’s in front of them.

No one would believe that a viscount—however influential—could restrain the empire’s most powerful dukes and marquises.

That’s just common sense.

"And one more thing."

"What is it?"

A third-rate traitor smiles after dispelling suspicion.

A second-rate traitor looks sullen about it.

But the best spy...

"I understand the Elector’s concerns. So I will let this go—just this once. But there will be no second time."

...is the one who plays the perfect loyalist.