Chapter 41
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Translator: volt
Chapter: 41
Chapter Title: Administration
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1593 July. Wow, it's already July. Lately, it feels like time is flying by insanely fast.
'Or... sigh. Maybe I've just lost all sense of time.'
Unlike the precisely regimented life of a 21st-century grape farmer, running like clockwork year-round, the life of a 16th-century angel is... what should I call it?
Extremely laid-back.
Sow the seeds around this time. Harvest the grapes around that time. The new settlers are clamoring to meet the angel? Fine... let's schedule it around then.
It's really all so approximate. With no deadlines for taxes or rent payments—no pressing due dates at all—life just sprawls out without any time sense.
The only things giving me a sense of time are the thriving Virginia vines growing like crazy... and
"This way! Just three more steps over here!"
"Bring more hammers and nails here!"
this settlement.
The shipyard, which had kept so many people toiling through months of foundation-laying and pillar-raising, was finally nearing completion.
The sawmill next to it had also started smoothly producing lumber without me needing to flex any special future knowledge.
The one place I'd personally overseen was the lumber drying yard right between them.
"Please design the ceiling here so the heat spreads evenly."
"Understood."
"Also, we'll be placing stoves here and there, so take extra care that the wood doesn't split or catch fire."
"We'll keep that in mind, Nemo."
This was a spot where my knowledge and resources could make a real difference.
Whether it's lumber or fruits and veggies, one slip-up and mold sets in—same problem everywhere.
First, the sawn lumber goes through a simple but special process, then gets moved to the drying yard.
We install stoves to keep the drying yard nice and hot, haul over a few sulfur fumigators from the farm, and manage it so mold, bugs, and pests can't damage the wood.
With stacks of dried lumber prepared—and the shipyard facilities ready to go—
"Nemo! Walter Raleigh has returned! With a whopping 210 cannons! Enough to arm several large ships splendidly!"
we waited for Raleigh to come back.
"Perfect timing. I've prepared the lumber for the ships—take a look."
"Spot on! Excellent! Mind if I inspect it?"
"Of course."
"Ah! That's the drying yard over there, right? Shall we head that way?"
"Let's go together."
"Then, let's see..."
"What's wrong?"
"..."
Raleigh's face stiffened as he saw the stacked lumber in the warehouse next to the drying yard.
"This... the wood looks different from what I expected. It's strangely... fresh? And there's a greenish tint?"
Of course— I'd given it special treatment.
Soaked it in agricultural calcium hydrosulfite. The surface is preserved, so it'll last far longer than typical wood of this era.
Plus, with the sulfur fumigation, no worries about bugs or rot even after months in storage.
"Oh... ooh..."
"What do you think? When can we start on the 'clipper'?"
"..."
Raleigh dazedly stroked the wood, then looked at me and said,
"If we have the designs... we could start right now."
Done. Success.
"Looking closer, the internal structure is completely different from any other surface ship. Whoa... framing it like this? It's not just the sail layout that's innovative, is it?"
After that, we dove headfirst into reverse-engineering.
"Is that so? I wouldn't know."
"You said you know nothing about ships, Nemo. But as someone who's designed them myself, I can assure you—this ship is revolutionary."
Of course it is. It's a 19th-century vessel.
I'd captured every loading screen from Anno Domini 1800 showing ship construction, plus detailed views of hulls and manufacturing processes from every angle, and handed them all to Raleigh.
After that, it was up to him.
...Feels like showing someone nothing but Iron Man movies and telling them to build a robot suit, but this is our best shot. I'd done my part.
And the conclusion:
"We can't build it to the original design."
"...What?"
Had overwork finally driven him mad? After all the facilities we'd built and time invested?
"Look closely... uh... here, this framing section?"
"Yes. I see it—the slightly darker part, right?"
"Exactly, Nemo. That looks like steel.
Should we... change the design? I don't think we can source that much steel."
Raleigh asked cautiously, and he was right, for now.
Steel framing? This isn't a forge, and we can't make that with 21st-century farm tech.
Even melting down the steel from our house and reusing it would still be primitive 16th-century blacksmithing.
But a little thinking revealed the answer.
"What if we modify this part like so?"
"How do you mean?"
"Don't we have something tougher than steel, and in massive quantities?"
Lexan (PC) sheets.
Our clipper's frame would now be Lexan sheets plus steel tubing.
One day, I booted up a game with excitement... and suddenly got separated from family and friends, flung back to the 16th century. Stabbed twice, even.
I wasn't about to thank Huang Sugsoft for the cheats in that situation... but damn if I wasn't going to milk every benefit from head to toe, bones and all.
Not a single thing from this farm would go to waste.
Lexan sheets.
Tougher than steel and lightweight to boot. We'll truss it up with steel tubing, embed Lexan sheets in the faces, and form the keel that way.
Sure, regular Lexan lasts about 10 years in sunlight—but so do iron and wood. Lexan corrodes from UV exposure... but as internal framing, no issue.
Combining the stockpiled clear sheets and steel tubing gives us a solid estimate. Totally feasible.
I even had the craftsmen test it; strength and elasticity held up fine. Verdict: 'More than feasible.'
Yeah.
I'm building a sailing ship in the 16th century... with Lexan sheets.
...
...
...
...No matter how I spin it, shoving engineering plastics into a 19th-century warship feels insane—but if that's the case, we shouldn't have started on a 19th-century ship in the 16th century.
So we went ahead and did it for real, and clipper construction got back on track.
These ships would haul colonial goods as fast transports while doubling as warships loaded with cannons to defend our colony from the Spanish navy.
Lumber keeps pouring in from constant land-clearing for farms, and Lexan sheets plus other materials keep coming too—so shipbuilding was now just a matter of time.
"Probably within a year? Maybe much sooner."
Raleigh declared. Good. A little patience, and 19th-century clippers would export our farm's special 21st-century-enhanced grape gift sets to England.
In the meantime, we'd patrol nearby with the Nautilus, scout Spanish naval movements, and defend the coast with mass-imported cast-iron cannons from England.
As long as the Spanish didn't invade right away, no big issues.
No—even if they did, we wouldn't go down without a fight. We've got the firepower for it.
"Fire!"
Tat-tat-tat-bang!
I'd read a column about why the 19th-century British Empire had the world's strongest army. Something about stockpiling gunpowder based on Indian saltpeter supplies.
The key isn't just having lots of powder.
"Fire again!"
Bang! Tat-bang!
It's that abundance lets you drill anytime.
That's us too. The reason's obvious.
Black powder needs just three ingredients:
Sulfur.
Potassium nitrate.
Charcoal.
All from our farm.
And with pipes and copper tubes pouring out endlessly, we'd hit one musket per household policy before we knew it.
Yeah. Every American home needs a gun, right?
...Not for that reason, but with alligators and wolves prowling more often than tigers in Joseon Korea, every house ended up with at least one firearm handy.
With the colony's defenses sorted, it was time.
"Finally... time to head back with the grapes."
Walter Raleigh rubbed his hands, flashing a meaningful smile.
"Indeed, Walter."
A matching grin tugged at my lips.
"One question, though. Why bring back cork oak bark?"
"...There's a reason."
Wine bottle corks.
With corks introduced alongside sulfites and glass bottles, we'd have the holy trinity for long-term wine preservation. Just age our K-wines a few years and export to Europe...!
A giant leap for Korean agriculture, unfolding right now.
"Y-yes, Nemo?"
"...It's for the Lord's blood, so spare no effort."
"Ah, got it. We'll do our best."
Wine = the Lord's blood. No lie there.
"I'll never forget this experience! You've been my muse, Nemo!"
"...Wasn't my intent, but glad you found inspiration."
Shakespeare had plays to write, so he was off too. Anyway, as a Nemo follower, he'd do his part in England.
Clippers were still far from done, so Raleigh and Shakespeare sailed back on the ship they'd arrived on.
After seeing them off, I threw myself back into shipbuilding and miscellaneous tasks.
And the most crucial of those... was administration.
10,000 people.
A light number in 21st-century Korea—just a few apartment complexes—but in ancient times, enough for a kingdom; in this era, a mid-sized city.
Croatoan Island's few hundred were manageable, but Chesapeake's massive population needed control.
"Folks are starting to plant kitchen gardens around their homes."
"Hm? That's good. Means we've got plenty of land now."
"No. Not entirely good."
"Hm... Care to explain, Huey?"
Especially land distribution.
"We've all been farming communal fields and sharing till now, right?"
"Yes. Not much cleared land for individual plots."
"Exactly. But that's changing. People are getting land-hungry."
Huey spotted it first.
"They're sowing veggie seeds from Europe near their houses, staking claims by clearing patches."
"Hm..."
"Not serious yet. But..."
Huey glanced at the forklift and maintainer parked by my cabin.
"...Clearing that would've taken years, but we did it in months. This issue was inevitable."
"...I see. We shared when space was tight, but now we're big enough to split up."
"Right. Even Mantio says the natives are similar."
Got it.
"Then we'll divide the land properly. Looks like my workload's spiking. How to handle this..."
Time for privatizing common lands? As I nodded vaguely, Huey eyed me worriedly. Why?
"Um... Heaven probably doesn't deal with this, but mortals form 'governments' to mediate conflicts."
"..."
"So you don't have to handle everything yourself, Nemo. Yes."
"...I know."
Forgot. Living like a village head made me miss how 16th-century folks see it: 'This is [government]. We can refine the system...'
"Ah, sorry. I thought you didn't know worldly affairs..."
"No, makes sense."
"..."
"..."
Humiliating.
"...Anyway, time for you to form a government, Nemo."
"Seems so."
Government, huh.
Divvying land to 10,000 isn't like group meetings anymore.
We need something more systematic, precise.
"Hm..."
Like an Excel file... huh?
As I pondered, Huey blinked. No big deal, right? Just delegate to Lord Raleigh.
But that's not efficient.
"...I think I get it. Huey, wait in my room later?"
"Pardon?"
I pulled the tablet from my bag and called him over.
"Wh-what's this? It glows!"
Time to restore 21st-century pride.
"This is a 'computer'."
"Com... puter?"
Ah, doesn't ring a bell?
"Press the left button on this 'mouse'."
Click.
"The picture in the frame moves! What sorcery...!"
I smiled at Huey.
"That's a 'click'. And..."
I took the mouse back and opened Excel.
"...With this, we'll build a 'government'."
If you get it, use it.
Excel included, naturally.