I Became A Black Merchant In Another World-Chapter 167: Sanitary Reform and Change (1)

The emperor's face flushed a deep red, his expression breaking into a broad grin.

Every ruler in this world—including myself—would never refuse an opportunity to tighten their grip on power. To climb higher, there are even those willing to risk their lives.

‘And that includes emperors, even if there's no position higher than theirs.’

“It sounds like a dream come true,” he said, his voice tinged with wonder.

In the Toscano Empire, plagues were synonymous with terror. Once they began spreading, the elderly, spouses, children—no one was spared. The illness consumed people with horrifying speed, reducing a healthy individual to a skeletal corpse in just a week.

Before such fear and despair, even the most educated scholars, devout priests, and noble aristocrats would lose their wits, calling upon witches (real ones) to conduct bizarre rituals.

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‘When a plague spreads, summoning witches is something people silently condone.’

But now the emperor would crush that fearsome plague entirely?

“To eradicate this plague, however, I’ll need substantial help from Your Majesty,” I said.

“Be specific.”

“There are two primary reasons why plagues arise: people not washing themselves, and the consumption of contaminated food and water.”

The human digestive and immune systems are adaptable to environmental conditions. This is why, under normal circumstances, failing to wash or consuming spoiled food doesn’t necessarily lead to illness.

Take India, for example—or Lindor, a kingdom in this world where hygiene practices are intertwined with religious doctrine. Despite using water from the Ganges River—which is filthier than industrial waste—for bathing, laundry, and drinking, they don’t suffer waterborne epidemics daily.

Why? Humans, as long as they receive adequate nutrition, possess an incredible natural resilience to disease.

‘But the people of this world are chronically malnourished.’

As increasing food production is practically impossible, implementing basic hygiene reforms is a more realistic solution. With proper hygiene, people can survive even with meager resources.

“Therefore, we must ensure that everyone, regardless of status, bathes regularly, prepares their food cleanly, and enforces strict sewage management.”

Any Korean who’s graduated elementary school would recognize this advice. However, it took centuries of hardship and trial for such basic principles of hygiene to be established in human history.

After the Black Death ravaged Europe in the late Middle Ages, people began associating bathing with filthiness. Among the aristocracy, bathing was even seen as a lewd, improper act. King Louis XIV of France famously bathed fewer than five times a year.

‘I’ve changed clothes, so I’m clean.’

That was considered hygiene, even as the stench of unwashed bodies permeated the air. Ironically, this led to the development of strong perfumes, with Paris leading the way in fragrance-making technology.

Although our Toscano Empire—or the entire continent of Albania—didn’t experience such a catastrophic plague outbreak, the prevailing mindset wasn’t much different. Few believed that bathing daily was necessary.

“I’ll now simplify why these principles must be followed,” I said.

The emperor raised a hand, gesturing for me to pause.

“Summon the court physician! And from this moment on, write down everything Baron Rothschild says.”

“Should we also call for a scribe?”

“Steward, fetch anyone nearby who can record this properly.”

Shortly after the plague outbreak had been quelled, Baron Conte had mentioned something interesting to me:

‘The Medical Guild plans to formally certify you as a professor of medicine.’

This meant that I was now legally allowed to treat patients and teach medicine. Though I might not be skilled at directly saving lives, the plague protocols I implemented had saved hundreds of thousands. I suppose I deserved the title.

Still, being treated as an academic authority in medicine felt oddly surreal.

Soon, both a scribe and the imperial physician arrived, their faces solemn, ready to document my words.

And so, I began explaining the basics of preventive medicine—carefully adapted for this audience.

Not bathing leaves the body covered in harmful miasma (or so I explained, instead of mentioning bacteria and viruses). Eating improperly cleaned or cooked food, I framed as a violation of “proven divine truths” as outlined in scripture. Finally, untreated sewage was described as humanity’s excreted miasma polluting the water supply—a danger to all.

The emperor listened with a look of comprehension that seemed to say, ‘So, basically, people just need to keep clean.’ He nodded approvingly.

Meanwhile, the court physician trembled slightly as he jotted down my words.

“What do you think, physician?” the emperor asked.

The physician, barely able to contain himself, burst out passionately, “This is a discovery for the ages! Not only does it align perfectly with our current medical knowledge, but Baron Rothschild has also proven its validity through practice!”

“Understood,” the emperor replied.

“Sire, with your permission, I’d like to compile and distribute these theories to the Medical Guild immediately.”

“Take a leave of absence.”

“Thank you, Your Majesty!”

While the emperor’s court had more than one physician, the enthusiasm felt a bit excessive.

‘No matter how revolutionary this knowledge may be, isn’t this overkill?’

“So, what do you require?” the emperor asked, turning to me.

“To implement these practices nationwide, we’ll need to recruit new administrative officers to oversee operations.”

Every noble family struggles to find positions for their younger sons, and here I was proposing to create dozens—perhaps even hundreds—of administrative roles. This would win me gratitude from their families and provide me with future operatives to employ as I saw fit.

“So be it. However, appointments will fall under the authority of the imperial chancellor. Recommendations will suffice.”

“In addition, I’ll need authority to oversee hygiene in all facilities, from restaurants and towns to cities and military bases. This includes the power to mandate construction, issue improvement orders, and, if necessary, demolish unsanitary sites.”

Ah, this was the real reason I wanted to implement nationwide hygiene reforms: the authority to stir up some mischief.

This was why I risked my life to contain the plague in Pisa.

“Preventing the outbreak and spread of diseases is indeed vital. However, I cannot delegate judicial authority to you. If punishments are required, refer cases to the Florence High Court. I’ll instruct the Chief Justice to cooperate fully.”

Translation: As long as I present reasonable grounds, I’d essentially have carte blanche.

The emperor seemed fully prepared for such decisive measures.

“This old man will have your back.”

For the emperor to call himself “this old man” instead of using royal pronouns was significant. It meant that success would earn me praise as his protege, while failure would mark me as expendable.

“Thank you, Your Majesty.”

“Now go. The decree to establish the agency will be announced in a month. Inform your family that things will get busy.”

I left immediately to visit Duke Visconti.

**

“Your Grace, I’ve brought information that may be of use to you.”

The duke let out a thoughtful hum.

“What is it?”

“A new agency will soon be established to oversee plague prevention and hygiene. While I don’t know who its first head will be, that’s not the key point.”

“You mean to monopolize it, don’t you?”

Not exactly—I’m merely setting hygiene standards.

Why do people think I’m some greed-driven maniac?

“I’m simply normalizing practices the British might consider,” I muttered. “Damn it, I’ll need Chloe to comfort me tonight.”

“Plagues are deadlier than wars,” I continued. “This initiative will be executed with the same rigor as military preparation. Surely Your Grace’s faction should be informed?”

“Thank you for the heads-up. This will place significant debts upon the nobles within my faction.”

By “informing,” I meant discreetly sharing inspection criteria and resolution methods beforehand. Yes, it was blatant cronyism, but that was par for the course here.

“And Your Grace,” I added, “shouldn’t you charge a consultation fee for your advice? If you’re discreetly leaking central secrets to benefit faction nobles, they ought to express their gratitude.”

At this, the duke stared at me as if I were insane.

But isn’t this the perfect way to consolidate his power? Where else would he find such a dependable grandson-in-law?

“This administrative campaign will be massive. For unprepared nobles, it’ll be nothing short of a disaster.”

From demolishing parts of cities to build public toilets, to overturning kitchens in filthy restaurants—there were many “interesting” reforms in the pipeline.

Our agency, of course, would operate with the utmost “integrity,” by East India Company standards.

The duke muttered under his breath, so softly I could barely hear, “...A devilish scheme.”

“Pardon? I didn’t catch that.”

“Baron Rothschild, I’m truly grateful you’re my grandson-in-law. Your... genius political strategies are terrifyingly effective. When I have great-grandchildren, I’ll entrust you as their tutor.”

Genius strategies? This wasn’t even that clever.

“Thank you, Your Grace. I’ll do my best to meet your expectations.”