I Became A Black Merchant In Another World Chapter 155

The Count of Piedmont agreed to et , though he looked slightly bewildered.

Considering that we’d had no personal interactions beyond being in the sa faction under Duke Visconti, it wasn’t surprising. To suddenly request a eting to discuss an important business matter might understandably catch him off guard. At the sa ti, rejecting a direct request from the son-in-law of Duke Visconti wasn’t exactly an easy option either.

‘Since I’m the one who ca unannounced, it’s only right that I approach him humbly.’

“I truly appreciate you taking the ti to et despite your busy schedule, Your Excellency,” I said with a polite bow.

My low posture seed to ease his expression slightly. The saying “you can’t spit on a smiling face” held true here. A sincere apology appeared to have softened his mood. However, since we were about to delve into a significant discussion, I needed to grease the wheels of our conversation further.

“This is a small gift from . Please, take a look.”

The Count opened the pouch I handed him, his eyes widening in surprise.

“My word, rubies, eralds, amber... and all of exceptional clarity and brilliance. These are top-grade gemstones.”

I could’ve offered sothing like seaweed as a trendy gift, but the craze for seaweed had died down sowhat since I had stopped flooding the market with it. Though it was still prized as an aphrodisiac and a dicinal supplent, its price had dropped by about 20%.

‘It’s a bit too passé to use as a bribe for soone of high standing.’

“These gemstones are the finest I could acquire from the infidels who supply my coffee. I thought they would suit Your Excellency’s stature.”

Strictly speaking, I had purchased these gemstones from the tribal confederation of West Ifrikia. Unaware of their true value, they had sold them for a tenth of the price one would pay in the Albanian continent or among the infidels. Essentially, I was giving the Count a bribe worth ten tis what I had originally spent.

‘Monopoly trade is undeniably the path to fortune.’

“Well, I’ll accept this gift with gratitude. Now, what is it you’d like to discuss?”

“I’d like to propose raising chickens on your estate, Your Excellency.”

“Chickens? Aren’t they the sort of animals that serfs raise at ho by feeding them scraps of vegetables or grain? Why specifically on my estate?” he asked, clearly puzzled.

Historically, people had often raised chickens at ho, both before and after the advent of poultry farms. Feeding them leftover rice or vegetable scraps allowed for a dual benefit: regular eggs and occasional at, all with minimal effort. Chickens were small and easy to manage, making them a popular choice even in our empire, where serfs and urban poor alike often kept a few hens.

In this context, raising chickens solely for at was an unfamiliar concept.

“Indeed, chickens are easy to raise in small numbers. A few scraps from the kitchen are usually enough to keep them. However, raising thousands—or even tens of thousands—at once is a completely different matter, don’t you think?”

“You’re planning to raise thousands of chickens at once?” he asked, astonished.

“Yes, Your Excellency. Regardless of the product, large-scale production always brings down costs. If I want to profit from chickens, I need to raise them in significant numbers.”

Just like cola and soda, which we take for granted as cheap beverages. A 500ml bottle costs less than 2,000 lira at a convenience store because of mass production. If you tried making cola at ho, the cost per can would easily exceed 5,000 lira. Similarly, raising 1,000 chickens in a purpose-built poultry farm would cost far less than doing so in small, scattered households.

“That makes sense. But why choose my estate for your poultry farm?”

“Because your lands, Your Excellency, are the most fertile grain-producing region in the empire. Over half of the wheat and barley sold in the empire is said to co from Piedmont alone, is it not?”

It was a well-known fact that the Count’s estate was the breadbasket of the empire. With vast plains, abundant water from the Pont River, and a temperate climate, his lands yielded exceptional agricultural productivity. Though the empire didn’t have precise statistics on crop yields per area, it was commonly accepted that farming the sa amount of land in Piedmont would produce 30% more than in other regions.

Hearing my words, the Count bead with pride.

‘High grain production directly correlates with political power,’ I thought.

By acknowledging his influence, I’d effectively flattered him.

“And, like most estates, I understand that you collect most of your taxes in kind,” I continued.

In the dieval world—whether Europe, Japan, or elsewhere—taxes were predominantly collected in kind, particularly grain. The empire followed a similar practice, taking a portion of harvested crops from the serfs as taxes.

“My estate operates more like an industrial complex, paying wages for work perford. But for most estates, grain taxes are the standard,” I explained.

“You’re correct. Selling that grain to rchants is how we fund the operation of the estate,” the Count said, nodding, though with a sigh.

“Exactly. But grain prices fluctuate wildly depending on the season, don’t they? During harvest ti, grain is cheap, but rchants profit significantly by selling it at higher prices later,” I pointed out.

Indeed, throughout history, grain prices varied drastically based on the season and whether it was a ti of famine or plenty. A tenfold price difference between a bountiful harvest and a famine year was not uncommon. Even within a single year, grain prices could rise by 30% to 50% between harvest ti and the lean season.

“Moreover, so grain inevitably spoils after two or three years of storage. You end up with a large quantity of grain that must be discarded, correct?”

The Count frowned deeply. While spoilage was inevitable, the thought of wasting valuable grain must have stung.

“People can’t eat spoiled grain, but chickens can. Even grain that’s too deteriorated for human consumption can be fed to chickens without issue,” I said.

Dosticated animals share a common trait: they can consu things humans cannot. While cows, pigs, and chickens all benefit from grain, they can also eat leftovers and spoiled food.

Upon hearing this, the Count’s eyes widened in realization, and he grabbed my hand enthusiastically.

“You’re saying that if I allow you to build a poultry farm, you’ll take care of all that troubleso grain?”

“Yes, Your Excellency. Of course, since the grain will be nearly spoiled, I’ll purchase it at 10% of the market price,” I replied.

This was a mutually beneficial deal. I needed grain to feed my chickens, and the Count could sell off his spoiled stock for so money instead of none.

“That alone would be a blessing. I’ll have my estate officials assist you and issue the necessary orders,” he said.

“Thank you, Your Excellency.”

“No, thank you. But may I ask why you’re suddenly so interested in raising chickens on such a scale?”

Because chicken at and eggs are incredibly profitable.

“It seed like a lucrative opportunity. But I’d like this plan to remain a secret between us for now,” I said.

While my poultry farm would inevitably draw attention once it was operational, any delay in competition worked to my advantage.

“Understood,” he agreed.

With the Count’s permission letter in hand, I set off for his estate to begin constructing the poultry farm without delay.