I Became A Black Merchant In Another World-Chapter 380: The Merchant of Death, Fabio (3)

The Elector of Wittenberg was listening to Baron Platz relay his impressions of Fabio's attitude.

"I believe Viscount Rothschild is someone we can trust."

"And what makes you say that?"

"I confronted him about the fact that weapons and supplies ✧ NоvеIight ✧ (Original source) were making their way to the Emperor's side, and his explanation was highly reasonable."

"Surely, you’re not telling me to trust him simply because he reasoned his way out of it?"

"There are several other reasons. But more importantly, he made a point of stating that while he is the owner of the largest trading company in the Toscani Empire, he cannot possibly control every merchant within it."

Fabio knew that when lying, the best way to make people believe you was to do so boldly—like wearing a mask of iron, no, of diamond.

And this approach worked astonishingly well.

People who think within the boundaries of common sense will always reveal small cracks when they lie, no matter how skilled they are.

Police officers, especially detectives, can often tell if a testimony is false just from tiny nervous habits.

"But Viscount Rothschild showed no signs of unease whatsoever."

And so, within the logic of a man who thought reasonably, Baron Platz concluded that Fabio had been telling the truth.

"Indeed, Viscount Rothschild’s argument is not just reasonable—it is entirely sound. It is well known across the entire continent that he is immensely wealthy. But just as he himself pointed out, it would be impossible for a single man to control every weapon and piece of military supply being sold."

"Then, what did the viscount claim to be doing on my behalf?"

"He said he is currently working to prevent the Emperor and the nobles of the Toscani Empire from interfering in the civil war. He even pleaded with me, saying that it was an impossible burden for a mere viscount to hold back the entire nobility on his own."

The Elector of Wittenberg fell into deep thought.

Could he afford to trust Fabio? Or was trusting him a fatal mistake?

His gut instinct told him to cast aside this slippery bastard, this two-faced vassal who drank honey from both cups.

But truth be told, even his own electors and nobles—the ones under his direct command—were unpredictable. Who knew when they might betray him?

"That Rothschild viscount... He is a double vassal, playing both sides."

A man who takes two wives is called capable.

A woman who takes two husbands is called promiscuous.

A monarch having multiple vassals is natural and legal, but a vassal serving multiple lords is deeply offensive.

"...The man is intolerable. If I had my way, I would cut him off this very instant."

But casting him out so recklessly was a terrifying thought.

Viscount Rothschild had already supplied him with 20,000 matchlock muskets, 10 tons of gunpowder, 10,000 swords, 40,000 pikes, and countless provisions—all at a stable price below market rate.

Meanwhile, the other merchants in his own territory were selling muskets for three silver coins yesterday, only to demand four silver coins today.

And that was if they even had stock available.

Foreign merchants? They made even the local ones look generous by comparison, overcharging at every turn.

"If that Rothschild bastard disappears, my military supply chain crumbles."

And as much as he hated to imagine it—what if...

What if that damned viscount started supplying weapons and provisions to the Emperor? Or worse, to the Kingdom of Lyon?

His own forces would be starving for resources while the enemy grew stronger and crushed them under the weight of an abundant supply chain.

"Did Viscount Rothschild say anything else? Even vague remarks will do—tell me everything."

"He said he serves Your Highness with absolute loyalty."

"Even traitors say that before they’re executed."

"But the viscount’s words were... different. This is what he said."

Baron Platz recalled Fabio’s statement—one that was so audacious it almost sounded like true loyalty.

"He said he was deeply offended by being suspected. And that although he is a dual vassal, Your Highness personally acknowledged his status as viscount—so why was he being spoken down to by a mere baron? He even turned the accusation back on me, demanding if I was trying to insult Your Highness' authority."

"He said that to you, who went in my name?"

"Yes, Your Highness. And since we have no real evidence of betrayal, treating him as a traitor without proof would be..."

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

Baron Platz attempted to make a rational argument in Fabio’s defense.

But the Elector of Wittenberg raised his hand, cutting him off.

"Viscount Rothschild... Is he really that obsessed with the noble title I granted him?"

"Yes, Your Highness. He also said that if he continued to be doubted, he would simply wash his hands of this and support the false emperor instead."

"That man... He’s less a human and more a wolf chasing the scent of money instead of blood."

Yet, despite his words, the Elector of Wittenberg’s lips curled into a smile.

One problem had just been solved.

For the first time in a while, he looked genuinely at ease.

"There is no need to doubt him any further."

"And why is that, Your Highness?"

"Because Viscount Rothschild is an insatiable beast. He will do anything for profit. Who knows? Maybe he was even the mastermind behind the Tulip Scam that rocked the entire Holy Roman Empire."

There was no solid evidence.

But it was a reasonable suspicion.

If anyone on the continent had the ability to pull off an elaborate fraud using tulips and then shrug it off with a casual "Well, I wasn’t caught, so I’m innocent," it would be Fabio.

"That does sound like something he’d do. I mean, how greedy must a man be to keep running a trading company personally despite being a viscount?" fɾeewebnoveℓ.co๓

"And right now, he’s clinging to the idea that when I become emperor, he will be rewarded generously. That’s why he’s so fixated on the title I gave him."

This was universal.

No matter the country, no matter the era—the benefits one received were directly tied to status.

If Fabio earned military merits as a viscount, he could be elevated to an earl or even higher.

But if he did the same as a mere commoner? At best, he’d be granted a baronetcy—or, if he was extraordinarily lucky, a barony.

It was the same in any system.

A senior executive closing a billion-dollar deal would receive far greater rewards and promotions than a fresh recruit pulling off the same feat.

"Of course, he’s invested in his recognized status—he’s hoping I’ll grant him an earldom in return for his loyalty."

"Ah, that does make sense."

"That Rothschild bastard... This is just how he operates. He doesn’t want to risk losing his head over suspicion, so he’s making it clear—if I don’t trust him, he’ll simply sell himself to the highest bidder. Loyalty? Honor? He’s got no use for those."

And that...

Was precisely why the Elector of Wittenberg could rest easy.

As long as he kept feeding the beast, Fabio would never betray him.

Just as his own wives, mistresses, and in-laws remained loyal—not out of love, but because they depended on him.

"In the end, it’s always about money."

"I will send a personal letter of apology to Viscount Rothschild. And as a sign of trust, I’ll increase his trading privileges. You are dismissed."

As Baron Platz departed, a new figure entered—Pastor Stefano.

He held no title, no official position, yet...

His presence in the Elector’s court was immense.

He had the authority to request a private audience whenever he pleased.

Because he was the living banner of the Protestant cause.

And that, in itself, was power.