I Became A Black Merchant In Another World

As soon as I heard that they reported me to the church, I was left dumbfounded.

What is this, a Joseon-era law against men and women sitting together? Are they really reporting us just for chatting and getting closer?

Now, if we were forcing mixed tables at a club, I wouldn’t blame them.

“So, what exactly happened?”

A sigh escaped my lips involuntarily.

I unconsciously clenched my hands tightly.

Samuel, the butler under my command, shook his head.

“Baron Valiano reported to Archbishop Christian that at Cafe Medici, we are promoting natural encounters between men and women, which he claims is an outrageously lewd act against the Bible and doctrine.”

Of course, aristocratic marriage is generally based on being paired with someone chosen by the family.

Romantic relationships between men and women are considered just as scandalous as parading around naked in a park.

However, this principle is almost never upheld in practice.

Unless it’s a marriage of heirs from high-ranking noble families, many children meet at balls and end up in love marriages.

“Who do they think they are, pure as driven snow? What a ridiculous bunch.”

Even in medieval and early modern Europe, the principle was that one man should love and live with one woman for life.

But in Europe, where machoism and hyper-masculinity were measures of power, loving just one woman was quite the challenge.

Sponsoring courtesans, coercing maids selected purely for looks, and other forms of sexual favors were common…

Through ‘free love’ by European standards, desires were satisfied.

Men who didn’t engage in such behavior were labeled as weaklings and became the subject of gossip among the nobles.

The same goes for the Toscan Empire, where the church doesn’t really crack down on this culture.

When hearing confessions, they often use it as leverage to solicit more donations.

Ah, even the clergymen often sneak out to wash away their guilt or enter into common-law relationships.

But in our medieval Toscan Empire, the strong breaking the rules is called romance, while the weak can become sinners just for breathing.

“The Archbishop claims that Cafe Medici is a place where young men and women engage in lewd acts, blaspheming the Lord, and that he will impose severe punishment in the church court.”

“The judge will naturally be the Archbishop himself.”

When a church trial is mentioned, you might think of witch hunts where being burned at the stake is a given.

Setting someone on fire is considered a harsh execution even by medieval standards, so it hardly happens.

Moreover, since I haven’t openly opposed the church, they wouldn’t go out of their way to kill me, the second son of the Medici family.

However, the judgment won’t be light.

“The Archbishop will surely command the closure and confiscation of Cafe Medici, along with the recovery of all money earned so far. Furthermore, he’ll label me as a lowly man of weak faith.”

Being marked as lacking faith is akin to being labeled a serial killer back in Korea.

Because in the Empire, faith is a prerequisite for being human.

“What will you do? Will you seek help from the Baron?”

In a 21st-century trial, even a trial without proper evidence would lead to an acquittal just by hiring a decent lawyer.

However, the judicial system in the Toscan Empire is testimony-based.

If there is a consistent testimony from witnesses, presenting hundreds of pieces of evidence proving my innocence is nearly useless.

The higher the status of the witness and the accuser, the more powerful their consistent testimony becomes.

As a second son of a baron family, I’m positioned lower socially than the Archbishop and Baron Valiano. Even if I bring dozens of innocent evidence, a guilty verdict will likely be rendered.

In the end, I’ll have to seek someone of high status to rely on.

To survive, that is.

“The Baron doesn’t care for me. So I’ll seek someone else.”

As a member of the Medici Baron Clan, if I ask for help, they will oblige.

But then Brother Albert would probably try to shackle me.

I certainly don’t want to experience that here in another world.

“I think I’ll go see Duke Visconti.”

Duke Visconti, the lord of the Medici Baron Clan, is the nobility above us.

Though he is somewhat distant, he won’t just sit back and watch while our clan suffers injustice.

“The Duke is eager to suppress the Sforza Duke Clan and become the foremost noble of the Toscan Empire… I’ll convince him that I can aid in that ambition.”

Honestly, I’m more capable than Brother Albert.

The only reason Brother Albert became a Medici Baron is due to bloodlines, pure and simple.

In terms of ability, anyone sitting in that position would likely perform similarly.

But how many people could replicate my level of achievement in a short amount of time if they were to take my place as a second son of the Medici family?

Objectively speaking, very few.

Even in this damned Empire, though it’s a class-based society, ability does matter. So it’s definitely worth convincing based on performance.

“Send a letter to Duke Visconti, saying that Fabio de Medici, the second son of the Medici Baron Clan, wishes to present a proposal that may benefit you.”

Normally, a second son from a baron family wouldn’t get a trivial letter delivered to a duke.

Typically, it would be shredded by the Duke’s butler or head servant.

After all, a second son of a baron family ranks at best as a captain in the army, while a duke holds a position equivalent to a great general.

“Your Grace, Fabio de Medici, the second son of the Medici Baron Clan, has sent you a letter directly.”

Upon hearing this, the Duke let out a snicker.

The Medici Baron Clan, while among the upper ranks of tens of thousands of vassals, is still an insurmountable difference compared to him.

Yet, a mere second son, not even the head of a family or heir, has the audacity to make a request?

That’s just downright brazen.

However, when a young man stands out and asks without knowing the danger, depending on the request, it could either be madness or calculated action.

If it’s the former, it would be disappointing, but if it’s the latter?

“Fabio de Medici, the second son of the Medici Baron Clan, the one who created that cake and Cafe Medici, is asking me. Quite audacious. What does the letter say?”

“He claims to have a proposal that would benefit Your Grace.”

“What a lunatic.”

A subtle smile played on the Duke’s face.

Though he said that, he was curious about what a mere second son could possibly say after achieving a notable feat.

“And right now this friend, Fabio, is under prosecution by Archbishop Christian.”

“A friend who is begging for his life right now? My, is he really lost in the head?”

As the head of the Visconti Duke Clan, he had seen countless types of people.

Among them were undoubtedly those with prodigious talent.

“Geniuses tend to act a bit insane but achieve the best outcomes.”

Now, there’s a genius mercenary commander who was made a baron by taking one of the Duke’s direct territories. He led only a few men into an enemy camp of thousands when everyone else told him to retreat, thinking he was mad.

At that time it seemed foolish, but he ended up leading the Duke to a significant victory.

“Still, it’s a hundred times better than pleading for mercy. Why should I help those who don’t fulfill their obligations while begging for their lives?”

“Indeed, those who fail to fulfill their duties and plead for their lives are worthless.”

“What do you think? I think we should meet this fellow.”

The Duke had a personal interest, but objectively speaking, Fabio de Medici was worth investing in.

In just a few weeks, he grasped the trends of the Empire while gaining political influence and reputation in society.

Even with minimal support from his family, he achieved this much.

If funds were poured in and protection afforded, he might not just lay golden eggs but diamonds.

“Let’s give him a chance as you desire. It might just help in defeating Duke Sforza.”

“Alright, let’s do that. I’ll clear my schedule for tomorrow afternoon.”

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