I Became A Black Merchant In Another World-Chapter 197: Missionaries, Merchants, Age of Exploration (8)

There’s a saying that music is the only drug allowed by the country.

However, that’s just something middle schoolers, intoxicated by music, say in order to look cool and boast.

The true legal drug allowed by the country is stocks.

“I’ve been holding out for a year, and suddenly the stock price jumps 2-3 times—that’s not uncommon.”

The miracle where an investment of 10 million won turns into 20 million won in just one year.

If you experience this a few times, or if, by sheer luck, one of the stocks you bought hits its upper limit and you make a profit of more than 30% in a single day...

That person will never escape the stock market swamp for the rest of their life.

Even though the monthly salary earned from working every day barely covers card bills, utility bills, social insurance, and taxes, leaving nothing left,

And even though you have to endure all sorts of harassment from your boss and put up with customers demanding refunds for ridiculous reasons,

With stocks, all you need to do is invest your money and watch it multiply by itself.

“So, there were people who went so far as to pull out loans and invest, ready to sell their souls.”

Most investments that are made by draining everything, even the soul, typically end with stock prices falling, leaving nothing behind.

Even experts suffer huge losses in the stock market.

In the savage and cunning domestic stock market, where all sorts of schemes are rampant,

Are you really going to invest by selling your soul?

Stocks are meant for long-term investment; the real battle is to endure and hold on tight. But if you focus on short-term stock price fluctuations,

You end up making the most foolish decisions, focusing only on the near future.

“Still, the fact that these kinds of people keep emerging isn’t bad for the big players. Those who lose their money like this become good fertilizer. Maybe it’s time for a little celebration for the moths flying to the flame.”

As I was organizing my thoughts, Chris opened the door and entered.

“Baron, the profit settlement from this trade has been completed.”

“You’ve worked hard. So, how much did we make?”

“700,000 gold coins.”

Investing 200,000 gold coins to get 700,000 is definitely not a small profit.

In fact, it's an unbelievable return.

A 350% profit.

Even large corporations would consider it a huge success if they made a 15% profit after expenses.

But 350%? That’s almost revolutionary income.

“Giving Malik the matchlock rifles in exchange for the gold mines and turning everything we took into gold really helped.”

“350% profit, no wonder you’re so passionate about trade and route development, Baron.”

Even Ifriqiya, if my prediction holds true, will likely be the weakest during the Age of Exploration.

So, if we want to make money, we absolutely need to explore more routes, right?

Forget everything else, Erikson, I’m counting on you.

Please, let’s just get to Indica before I die.

“How much are you thinking of distributing in dividends to the first-time stock buyers? It seems a bit much to distribute the entire 700,000 coins.”

From a realistic perspective, this thought is reasonable.

Since I invested 200,000 gold coins and earned 700,000, it’s only modern to publicly disclose the profit rate to the shareholders.

However, this world is governed by medieval ethics, commercial law, and civil law.

So, in our Toscanian Empire, where stock laws, economic laws, and civil laws are unclear, they can’t imprison me.

Unless I just vanish with the money, that is.

Anyway, I’ll generously distribute the profits to the shareholders, and I’ll satisfy my personal desires as well, making everyone happy.

At this point, I’m far more virtuous than those church types, or even the "pure" ones.

I’m sure Deus would recognize this as a legitimate relocation of gold, not embezzlement.

“The amount that needs to be paid is at least 200,000 gold coins. I should add a little more.”

As long as I pay that much, no one can say anything.

After all, I’ve returned 100% of the principal.

‘But the bastards who are trying to assassinate me will probably show up soon.’

And now, I have a historical mission to push everyone into the stock market.

If I’m going to pay out dividends, I need to make it so intense that people will experience stock withdrawal symptoms.

How do I show them the addictive, mind-burning nature?

I’ll need to give at least East India Company-level dividends.

“Let’s just double the amount. That should make them crazy enough to rush here for trade.”

The exchange rate profit should be doubled for people to go crazy and want to trade here.

“Good idea.”

“There’s still a lot to do, but I’ll think about that later.”

I’ve been in a state of abstinence for the past few months.

“Where is Chloe now?”

Chris smiled when he heard my question.

“She’s waiting in the Baron’s room. She said she has some very good news to deliver personally.”

At this point, work and all that don’t matter.

I just need to rush.

“Chris, tell the butler outside to post an announcement in Florence Square that the stock dividend is 40%. Time is money.”

“Yes, Baron.”

I suppressed my urge to run and walked as fast as I could up to the room.

This chapt𝓮r is updat𝒆d by ƒreeωebnovel.ƈom.

Today, it felt like the house was unusually large.

**

Meanwhile, in Florence Square, there were countless citizens, merchants, and nobles bustling around.

The reason was simple: the retinue of the Rothschild family, wearing clothing emblazoned with the family crest, were shouting this:

“Baron Rothschild’s stocks have hit the jackpot!”

Everyone here had invested a huge sum of money into Baron Rothschild’s big-risk stock.

Some had invested their entire fortune, even their food money. Others had secretly mortgaged their homes to invest without telling their wives.

One crazy noble even believed firmly that Baron Rothschild would succeed no matter what, and took out a no-interest loan using part of his territory as collateral.

“Long live Baron Rothschild!”

“Glory to the Rothschild family! Hallelujah!”

The soldiers posted the announcement on the bulletin board.

[We’ve acquired a massive amount of gold through trade with the native tribes of Western Ifriqiya. Thanks to this, we’ve made a huge profit, and we wish to share it with our shareholders. Our family will distribute all the money earned from this trade, minus essential expenses, to the shareholders.]

The wise medieval folk quickly figured out that, with the “essential expenses,” Baron Rothschild had probably kept a decent portion for himself.

But no one dared to call it out.

People need to eat to survive.

[We’ll give you 75% of the invested principal as dividend interest. – Baron Rothschild]

A 75% profit excluding the principal.

For people in the medieval era, where inflation was only 10% over the course of a century, this figure was incredibly provocative.

It was more stimulating than showing a striptease to someone who’d never seen a woman in their life.

Some people actually fainted after hearing the news.

Of course, the faces of those who fainted were filled with smiles.

One unknown person shouted loudly:

“Long live, long live Baron Rothschild!”

At that moment, everyone who had invested large amounts of money, regardless of nobility or faction, embraced each other with joy.

“With this money, we can marry off all our children!”

“Wait, damn you Pereira, I’ll repay every penny I owe you!”

On the other hand, those who had invested small amounts in the stock market were despairing.

“If I had invested everything there, I’d be filthy rich now!”

And the noble who had taken a no-interest loan with part of his territory as collateral...

“Stocks are a gift from the gods, and Baron Rothschild is a blessing sent by Deus to make us prosperous! Long live Deus! Long live Baron Rothschild!”

The sharp-eyed artisans and merchants immediately returned to their homes.

“Whoever issues stocks first, that’s who decides their fate.”