Even in the Toscana Empire, and all the way to the Sultanate ruled by those infidels,

everyone within the commonly known world is suffering from a chronic shortage of gunpowder.

How desperate is the gunpowder situation that even the dirt diggers are scraping up "dirt with excrement components" from the noble estates?

Thus, when the voice of someone denying the common sense they had breathed all their lives was heard, protests erupted among those gathered here.

"I won't deny that you're an exceptional talent, Baron. But do you think you're some kind of god?"

"When I was the military logistics commander, it was a miracle if I managed to increase gunpowder production by 5%. And you expect us to believe we won't have to worry about gunpowder?"

"What nonsense is this coming from such a young lad?"

To be honest, what I was proposing was completely absurd.

It was so ridiculous that it was akin to a student who scored a 9 on their college entrance exam claiming they studied so hard for a month that they got into Seoul National University’s medical school.

So when I suggested this method, I had greatly reduced the expected production targets when presenting it to the Emperor.

"I said it could go as high as 1.4 times if things went well."

If I had honestly stated that the current production was almost ten times higher,

I would have most likely been diagnosed with overwork-induced delusions and forced to rest for a month.

But now, I had proven my results in Florence, right?

Thus, I decided to push harder.

"Seven times the current production."

Upon hearing the word 'seven times,' several older nobles clutched their necks and gaped in disbelief.

It seemed absurd that nobles and numerous former generals adorned with stars would be subjected to such nonsense.

"If I use the new method I devised, I can reliably obtain more than seven times the current gunpowder annually."

As everyone sat in stunned silence,

the Emperor, who already knew all the details, smiled softly.

His gaze was like that of a farmer looking at a prized cow.

Was it just my imagination?

Since the Emperor did not reprimand me first, the Minister of Military Affairs stood up to chastise me.

"Fabio de Medici! No matter how young you are or how many great achievements you've made to gain His Majesty's favor, I cannot allow you to utter such nonsense about the military!"

With a gesture from him, the soldiers stationed nearby approached me.

In another situation, I might have written the Minister's name in my secret death note, preparing for a long-term revenge, like the saying that the revenge of a gentleman takes ten years.

But from the perspective of the nobles, including him, this was a completely natural reaction.

What I was saying must have sounded as absurd as claiming that the waters of the Taedong River could cure all diseases in the National Assembly.

Does it make sense to reflect statements like turning sand into rice or making grenades out of pine cones in policy?

‘It seems like our empire is terribly rotten, but surprisingly, it’s still intact in some ways.’

I handed the report to the guards who had come close to me.

Without saying a word, they handed over the documents I had prepared to the Minister of Military Affairs.

Some students from the history department likened slaves and subordinates to 'smartphones.'

I can understand why they think that.

Just like smartphones, they can perform various tasks, and with the added AI functionality, they can handle simple tasks without needing to be told.

The Minister of Military Affairs let out an exclamation after reading my report.

"This is impossible! How can this be?!"

Everyone's attention turned to him.

In a gathering where a former general with four stars was reacting like this, it was strange that no one was paying attention.

People began to murmur.

"What on earth did the Minister of Military Affairs see to react that way?"

"From that reaction, it doesn't seem like he manipulated the report."

"But does seven times even make sense?"

The Emperor intentionally left this commotion for a moment and struck the floor with his cane.

"Be quiet. Isn't this gathering meant for discussing the affairs of the empire?"

Unlike my barony ceremony, which was so open that anyone could attend,

most of those gathered here were either legal nobles or star-decorated generals.

It was a 'business meeting' for discussing important matters of the empire.

Of course, the Duke of Visconti, who was particularly obsessed with me, sat there with a poker face.

‘But what can the duke do? Even if he finds it distasteful, he can't object.’

Since the Emperor was overlooking it, who would dare say anything?

"What did the Minister of Military Affairs see to be so surprised?"

The Minister of Military Affairs bowed his head immediately.

"I apologize, Your Majesty. In the report written by Baron Medici, it states that more than 80 tons of gunpowder were produced from the collected excrement throughout Florence."

The Emperor had already read the summary report I had sent in advance.

So, he was able to smoothly continue with his next words.

"You've produced an incredible amount of gunpowder."

The Minister of Military Affairs replied cautiously with a trembling voice.

"Your Majesty, before Baron Medici's intervention, it was difficult to produce even 10 tons of gunpowder annually in Florence and its surrounding areas. In years with lower production, we couldn't even secure 6 tons."

The generals and legal nobles gathered here covered their mouths with their hands.

Those who were late to cover their mouths gaped in disbelief like madmen.

Some were drooling like foolish children, but no one dared to laugh at that.

"But the fact that we secured 70 tons just from the city of Florence without causing significant inconvenience to the populace means that if this system is applied to other cities,

it would mean we could increase the amount of gunpowder produced in the empire to seven times the current amount."@@novelbin@@

Each time I mentioned 'seven times,' the eyes of the Minister of Military Affairs sparkled.

"Having more gunpowder doesn't guarantee victory in war, but it means we can fight longer than the enemy. Just this alone places us in a significantly advantageous position in the war."

"Are you saying we can fight much more favorably than the enemy? If so, does that mean even the Milanese Grand Duchy and those damned bastards...?"

"Having more gunpowder doesn't guarantee victory. However, the odds of winning will increase significantly. And with an abundance of gunpowder, our empire will no longer be able to be ignored by anyone."

Hearing the Minister of Military Affairs' confident words, the Emperor sprang to his feet.

Even though I had sent the report in advance and he already knew the contents, it seemed he was still pleased to hear it again.

‘It must feel like looking at a fully stocked bank account.’

If the happiest moment in life is when the account is full,

then afterward, just looking at the account makes the worries disappear, and the heart feels at ease.

Even I sometimes feel relieved when I look at my personal property list deep in my study during tough times.

"Baron, do you have more to say?"

In this situation, the proper response would be to say that it's all thanks to His Majesty.

But I should also mention the other positive effects that arose from collecting excrement in Florence, right?

‘Like a wealthy CEO licking the lid of a yogurt...’

I should take advantage of every opportunity available.

"Although it wasn't my intention, it seems the frequency of citizens getting sick has decreased since we cleaned up the excrement in Florence."

The Emperor looked puzzled by my words, which deviated from the usual responses.

"I didn't survey all the citizens of Florence, but when I asked a sample of 1,000 people, they reported that the frequency of minor illnesses like colds has decreased compared to last year."

To conduct a meaningful survey, variables must be thoroughly controlled.

The year when 1,000 people were surveyed should be based on a time when the excrement was not cleaned, and next year should be based on a time when the excrement was cleaned for scientific statistics.

‘Is such a scientific method really necessary?’

People aren't getting sick right now.

In a world where nobles can die any day from waterborne diseases, my words would sound very appealing to them.

"Additionally, I tried using the leftovers from gunpowder production as fertilizer for my vegetable garden, and the effects were quite good.

It would also be beneficial to give some to the peasants who farm nearby."

Just making gunpowder from the collected excrement would already be a huge success.

But if we can also use the leftovers as fertilizer, that would be even better, right?

The Emperor beamed at my words.

"Indeed, Baron. To think you wouldn’t waste even the residues from making gunpowder."

"All of this is possible because Your Majesty has believed in me and even established the position of Director of Public Safety and Gunpowder Production to support me."

In "The Prince," it was said,

"If you are to be hostile, be completely so; if you are to side with someone, risk your life to become a true ally. Half-heartedness leads only to death."

When flattering, it’s common sense to give it your all.

"Thanks to the increased production of gunpowder, the empire's strength has significantly improved compared to before.

Though Fabio’s achievements may not have been made on the battlefield, I believe I should properly elevate his rank. What do you all think?"

If you have any sense, keeping your mouth shut would be wise.

I expected everyone to nod silently, but...

One clueless fool opened his mouth to oppose.

"Your Majesty! Baron Medici is not even married yet! How can he already be a baron?! If he were to inherit his father's title, that would be one thing, but this is unacceptable!"

It seemed like nonsense, yet it was indeed a valid argument.

But Emperor, why are you laughing?

And Duke Visconti, why does it look like your mouth is about to rip?

For some reason, this is how I feel right now.

What is this? It’s scary.