Chapter 39: The Textile Factory
Land granted by the emperor.
Originally, it was the Counties of Braden and Titus. This place has been practically abandoned for a while.
Because it was the border between two territories, it was difficult to proceed with any business. If there is a difference, the other party may find fault.
But now it has become my own land.
A towering building in the middle of an empty field. Because it was surrounded by walls, it felt like a fortress at first glance.
"Are you in the middle of working right now?"
"You can probably check the status yourself."
"Let's go."
"Yes."
I followed Deacon Tobias Wilkin into the textile mill. I had to stop briefly at the gate to get my ID checked, but I was able to get through quickly. I'm the owner of this place, so my face is like a pass.
"His Majesty has arrived. Everyone, please pay your respects!"
"Ah! Your Highness the Duke of Carriers!"
The factory workers stopped what they were doing and lay face down on the floor. It was not a formal bow performed when nobles or royalty visited.
The appearance of everyone with a reverent attitude. It was a truly heartfelt greeting.
"It is an honor to meet you, Your Majesty."
The wet voice of the man lying face down in front was heard. The grim face felt somehow familiar. I recognized him immediately.
"Oh, you're Mr. Paul from the Parviant Farm injury incident."
"I don't know what to do with myself, for you remember even something as insignificant as me."
"Where is there any distinction between high and low when it comes to recognizing people? It's just a matter of knowing."
"Ugh! Your Majesty… … ."
Actually, that wasn't my intention. That was really what I was thinking. But Paul seemed genuinely impressed.
Because a grown man was shedding tears like chicken shit.
"Usually, high-ranking officials pretend not to know something for the sake of saving face, but Your Majesty is different."
"No problem. Anyway, everyone, please stand up now. I want to take a look around the factory."
"Yes, yes! I will guide you."
Paul, who wiped away his tears roughly, followed me with a happy expression. Then he answered the questions one by one.
"How much do you produce per day?"
"It probably depends on how much grass comes in, but we can usually make about 20 pieces."
One piece was approximately 16 meters long and 30 centimeters wide.
Judging from the tightly woven appearance, the quality wasn't bad either. But the production volume felt woefully inadequate.
"Is that all you can make with this number of people?"
"what? That's a pretty decent speed."
Judging by Paul's reaction, it seemed like he hadn't done a sloppy job. So why would production fall short of expectations?
'I guess there is inefficiency happening.'
Ah, is it finally time to tell?
This is what real work life is like. I looked around the room and smiled meaningfully.
The textile factory was truly a cottage industry.
Still, a very simple level of division of labor was achieved. Men probably made thread from flax, and weaving was the job of women. I guess it's because the former requires more power.
First of all, just carrying the grass is hard work.
'It looks like there's no problem on the outside.'
The workers made linen cloth using traditional methods. Since there were no machines, it was natural to do each and every thing by hand.
But if i watch the process closely, i can quickly discover inefficiencies.
"Mr. Paul?"
"Yes, Your Majesty."
"Are you in charge here?"
"I don't have a separate position, but I am the representative."
"Then, from now on, Mr. Paul is the factory manager."
"What? Yes."
Paul's eyes widened at the unexpected appointment. He seemed curious as to why he was being given such an important task, given that they had only met briefly at the courthouse.
But my judgment was well founded.
'Just by looking at the information window, the angles are clear.'
Whether he's a useful guy or not.
<Person Information>
Name: Paul
Status: Wage worker
Position: Fabric Factory Manager
Loyalty: Very High
Status: Strong sense of awe, satisfaction with sufficient wages, high enthusiasm for work
Overall Ability: C
----
'Wow! How beautiful.'
Although his overall abilities were somewhat lacking, he was the perfect person to trust and leave to. Doesn't it seem like loyalty will pierce the sky?
Soon I pointed out each and every part of the factory.
"Place the spinning wheel and the loom in a straight line. As soon as the thread is made here, it is passed over to the side."
"Yes, yes."
"Since the weaving process is slow, we will deploy twice as many people. Also, bring in more looms."
"Oh, I understand."
"Is there enough grass?"
"That is...."
Perhaps because the progress was so fast, Paul looked confused.
If you try to memorize it all at once, you won't be able to concentrate at all.
It would have been a good idea to take notes, but unfortunately, the workers couldn't read.
"Butler Wilkin?"
"Yes, Your Majesty."
"Please teach Mr. Paul how to write whenever you have time."
To become a proper factory manager, education was essential.
Because he will have to manage the books and write reports.
But then, Deacon Tobias Wilkin's expression turned distorted.
Suddenly, I looked around the room and everyone seemed bewildered.
'That's how Butler Miller Xavier reacted.'
Originally, writing was a means of governance for the ruling class. It is used to quickly and accurately convey orders between a king and his subjects, or to monopolize knowledge and information.
The common people could not help but look on in awe. When you ask me to pass on something like that so casually, I can't help but feel embarrassed.
But I was a person who was far from such stereotypes. In the first place, I'm not from this world.
"What's the problem?"
"Oh, no it's nothing."
"While we're at it, we might as well teach the kids too."
"Even the children?"
"Try to train a few people intensively. The more talented people you have, the better."
The workers at the textile factory were all very loyal.
Didn't everyone get their unpaid wages back because of my ruling? And since they've been offered such a great job, they'll want to stick around no matter what.
Naturally, the children of laborers are also more likely to be loyal. From now on, this will become a kind of youth team.
"All right."
Tobias nodded heavily. Then he soon showed me the notes he had written.
"Is it okay to proceed like this?"
"Well done. Mr. Paul still has a lot to learn, so please help him out a lot."
"Yes, Your Majesty."
A wind of change blew through the textile factories of Midias. Everything has changed, from infrastructure to business hours.
The division of labor that brings out the ultimate efficiency has begun.
Originally, people had a conservative tendency. If you just do what you've been doing, you can safely achieve your goal.
But now, it had to change.
Because it was the order of a being with omnipotent power.
About two weeks passed like that, and the textile factory gradually regained stability.
"How much is the production now?"
"It has… gone up by more than three times. Your Majesty!"
A total of 65 rolls of linen are produced per day. Now, I was probably running out of grass.
However, the supply did not suddenly stop. Because the materials were spread out in the field anyway.
I quickly increased the number of workers cutting grass, and the textile factory started running smoothly. So much so that there is no space left in the warehouse.
"It's almost time to open. Is the store ready?"
"We have built a warehouse and a building in the open space south of Midias. It is close to the capital, so many people will be looking for it."
"Okay, then let's begin."
"I will obey your orders."
"Choose the best from each item. We need to give them to His Majesty the Emperor."
"Yes, Your Majesty."
As Deacon Tobias Wilkin left, someone suddenly appeared out of the darkness. It was Cordell McNeill who followed me like a shadow.
"Did you make the gift again?"
"Yes. Thanks to that, our craftsman was very relieved."
"Ah, ahem! But, what are you starting?"
When the story of the broken pottery came up, Cordell quickly changed the subject.
Oh, doesn't he know what he's starting? I didn't really want to tell him, but I decided to do it anyway.
"It's simple. You just destroy it."
"What do you mean?"
"The market."
"… … ."
Cordell just tilted his head, still looking uncomprehending. It was as if he was asking why on earth he was doing such a thing.
What could be the reason? It could be anything.
'I'm just trying to change this shitty reality.'
As society moves in a positive direction, my abilities are strengthened. It's rewarding in its own way.