Status V: The Factory's Dawn
The square-shaped food right before my eyes. I never imagined I'd encounter something called fish cake in the modern world like this again.
"To think I'd see this."
In fact, even in ancient times, there were various fish-based dishes similar to fish cakes. But they were more like clumps of fish flesh than proper fish cakes. To anyone else, this might seem like a simple dish. Yet I had my reasons for focusing on it here.
"The shapes are uniform. That means it's produced in a factory."
In the modern era, food factories were commonplace. But that was the modern world. This was the Middle Ages, where mass-producing food in factories was unthinkable. Leaving aside food hygiene, the rest simply wasn't feasible. You needed a steady supply chain for ingredients, a workforce to process them, and a distribution network to sell the finished products right to market.
Of course, a small-scale food factory could operate on a household artisan basis. Freshness wouldn't be an issue if it was produced and sold the same day.
"The key is who came up with this innovative idea."
An innovation that transcended eras. That's why I wanted to know who created it.
"I should meet them first."
As I rose from my seat, Halvar approached. He began reporting as I'd previously instructed.
"As Your Majesty commanded, we've found the man who made this."
"Who is he?"
"A mercenary from Milan named Alfrando Visconti."
"Visconti?"
The Visconti family, one of the houses that left its mark in history. There were the Viscontis of Gallura and those of Milan. The Milanese branch played a key role in establishing the Duchy of Milan. Though their progenitor was unknown, Ottone, a local notable there, ousted the rival Della Torre family in 1277 and became Milan's de facto ruler.
"Surely not an ancestor of that Visconti family."
Just because he was from Milan didn't make it a certainty. This wasn't the 13th century anyway, and there were multiple Visconti lines, not just one. No need to dwell on such connections.
"What are your orders?"
"None. Let's go see him."
And so, I headed to the market with Halvar, captain of the Varangian Guard.
The market teemed with bustling crowds. As I appeared, people parted to the sides, showering me with cheers.
"The War Terminator!"
"His Imperial Majesty arrives!"
"Thank you for saving us!"
The grateful citizens expressed their thanks. I raised my hand, acknowledging each one individually, before reaching our destination.
"This is the place."
It looked like a small, shabby warehouse. Inside, about five grown men moved busily. A man coordinating them was clearly Italian-born—immediately identifiable as Alfrando.
Halvar approached Alfrando and announced my arrival. Alfrando stopped his work and came over.
"For such a noble guest to visit this humble place—it's an honor to our house."
"Forgive the sudden visit."
As I said this, I surveyed the surroundings. The factory sat on the boundary between the market and the harbor. It seemed they'd taken over an abandoned harbor warehouse after the plunder and converted it.
"A factory near the harbor, I see."
"Yes, Your Majesty. I-Is there... some problem?"
"No. I've come in person because I'm intrigued by what you've made."
I pointed to the fish cakes stacked there. At the sight, Alfrando's face registered considerable surprise. It was only natural from his perspective. He'd made the food simply to earn money, and now the emperor had shown up after hearing rumors—anyone would be flustered.
"Can you show me how you make it?"
"Ah... if that's all... I'll guide you."
With that, Halvar and I entered the factory. Senior workers were directing the newcomers.
"There! The fish flesh is too mushy!"
"Move to the left!"
It resembled Italy's apprentice system. The relationship between veterans and rookies looked like that of master and disciple.
"An apprentice system?"
"Yes, Your Majesty. Milan, where I lived, had many such workshops. I modeled it after them."
The East Roman Empire had apprenticeships too, but they weren't as systematic as in the Italian peninsula, the heart of the old Roman Empire. At best, it was artisans and menial laborers. Yet this factory seemed to have artisans, laborers, and an intermediate class of skilled craftsmen.
"Where did you find technicians like these?"
"I recruited fish processors from fishermen in Venice."
The explanation continued. They packed well-kneaded fish flesh into molds, shaped it, then chilled it to finish.
"It's produced like this."
"Impressive."
Newcomers processed raw materials, craftsmen shaped the molds, and artisans finalized the product. Primitive, yes, but with divided processes akin to modern assembly lines. Common in workshops making consumer goods, but applying it to food was unprecedented in the medieval world—hence my fascination.
"I find this production method highly efficient and excellent."
"Th-Thank you, Your Majesty."
"That's why I want to designate this factory as a model and disseminate the techniques."
I planned to use it as a benchmark to spread assembly processes. Product variety would increase, invigorating the market. Of course, this was from my viewpoint. To Alfrando, a power figure demanding to share core techniques might feel like outright theft. So I explained the compensation for sharing.
"Naturally, I'll pay fair value for sharing your core techniques."
"Fair value, you say..."
"Silk payments for each technology shared, plus the right to work in the new government ministry."
The generous terms for Alfrando served to staff the industrial ministry I'd planned with Zoe. As a bridge between East and West, the East Roman Empire thrived on trade taxes from goods flowing through. But overreliance left it vulnerable in wars, when trade halted and internal supplies were scarce. Even primitive factories were better than none—they could convert to wartime production bases.
Not as swift as modern conversions, but better than nothing. I'd suggested it to Zoe, who approved after weighing the economics. What the ministry needed were hands-on practitioners. Bureaucrats could oversee, but execution required experience—hence recruiting innovators like this.
"I'm just a mercenary. To grant me such an opportunity..."
Alfrando's face lit with emotion. Most government workers were nobles or from esteemed houses; becoming a bureaucrat was hard otherwise. His reaction was understandable.
"It'll take time to establish the new ministry."
"That's fine, Your Majesty. I'll faithfully carry out the tasks you assign in the meantime."
The order to teach factory know-how. Alfrando looked ready to start immediately.
While Rogerius scouted and hired talent outside, Zoe was laying the groundwork for recruitment with Theodora.
"Can't we just train them and deploy right away, sister?"
Theodora's question. Zoe shook her head.
"That's one way, but it takes time to verify if they're the talent we want."
"Is that so important?"
"Very. If they can't be placed immediately, it all becomes wasted expense."
"Spoken like a former imperial treasurer."
Theodora stuck out her tongue. Zoe shook her head with a wry smile and continued.
"Training is essential, but we must first confirm if they can grasp it quickly."
"So, exams?"
"Exactly."
Endlessly training those lacking basics was economically unwise. Exams would filter them. Zoe planned to divide applicants by whether they met the knowledge level for public service.
"Passing the exam makes you a civil servant. It'll be the goal for students in future schools."
People study harder with goals. Zoe knew this timeless truth better than anyone.
"Solid plan. With nobles largely gone, we need capable replacements—no room for mediocrity."
The East Roman Empire was gradually shedding its class system through reforms by Zoe and Rogerius. Merit-based hiring was key, requiring fair evaluation standards. Exams fit perfectly.
"What subjects for the exams?"
Theodora asked. Zoe explained her vision.
"Language skills to understand official documents, arithmetic for numbers. Those as basics, with department-specific add-ons."
"Language tests for diplomacy, technical for engineering?"
"Precisely. Plus..."
Zoe and Theodora hashed out exam details. Their discussion, starting at noon, stretched into the early hours when all had retired.