These days, there are plenty of protagonists in otherworldly stories who want to live a peaceful, relaxed life.

    A life completely opposite to the busy, stressful one of the 21st century Korea.

    I’ve lived comfortably in this world for about 20 years now without a single complaint.

    Except, of course, for the lack of electricity.

    “Is the easy life coming to an end?”

    Once I walk through that door and hear my father’s decision, my life will probably change 180 degrees.

    But there’s no avoiding this moment.

    “Father, I’m coming in.”

    I knocked on the door three times before entering the room.

    The father of the body I’ve been inhabiting looked at me with a serious expression and told me to sit.

    “This will take a while. Sit down.”

    “Yes.”

    “Yesterday, your brother’s formal investiture as the heir was completed. As a result, I am no longer the head of the Medici barony.”

    He may have stepped down from his position, but it was only in appearance.

    My brother, the eldest son, is just a 30-year-old kid, so he’ll need plenty of help from our father.

    “By tradition, now that you’ve reached adulthood, you have to leave this house. I don’t think you’re aiming for your brother’s barony, but...you never know what might happen in life.”

    “Yes, I understand.”

    He’s essentially telling me to leave, but there’s no point in arguing.

    If I resist, I’d be seen as a traitor to the family, aiming for the barony, and might face a mysterious death.@@@@

    I find it oddly amusing that I’m experiencing a classic banishment scene straight out of a web novel.

    But the father before me isn’t the kind of cruel man who would kick me out for being the second son without any talent.

    “Fabio, even though you’re the second son, you’re still my precious child. So, I—no, the Medici family—will support you as much as possible. If you want to go to the academy, you can go. If you want to become a soldier, I’ll make sure you have a path to become an officer. We’ll give you ample funds from the family.”

    The academy he mentioned isn’t the type filled with beautiful girls like in web novels, obviously.

    It’s a place where 100% of the students are male, and upon graduation, you get a certificate equivalent to the fifth grade public service position in Korea.

    But having a certificate doesn’t mean you’ll be hired, so you’d also need to make an appropriate donation when you apply for jobs.

    Becoming an officer would mean using the family’s connections to get a cushy lieutenant post.

    It’s not fair by any means, but that’s how employment works in a fantasy world like this.

    No matter which path I choose, the family’s spending won’t be insignificant, but most nobles provide this level of support at minimum.

    Golden spoon fathers can’t stand seeing their kids suffer because of a lack of money.

    “What are you planning to do? I’ll fully support whatever you decide.”

    Neither option appeals to me much.

    I’ve already seen how the army and civil service function here, where it’s normal to use family connections and money to secure a job.

    Right now, my mind is filled with countless examples of success stories distilled from many people’s failures.

    Failure is simply not an option.

    In this fantasy world, the Tosca Empire, you have to establish ties with politics if you want to do business.

    From small-time bakery owners in rural villages to large merchants with dozens of shops.

    Because if merchants don’t give respectful gifts to officials, they’ll find any ridiculous excuse to destroy their shop.

    Korean history textbooks call a more polished version of this kind of control ‘merchant monopoly rights.’

    “If I try to create something revolutionary, it could end up being for nothing if I don’t win over the right people. So, I should start by making something that’ll appeal to them.”

    I have the backing of the Medici barony, but they won’t help unless I prove I can succeed independently.

    Declining an offer like a position in the academy or as an officer is like turning down an acceptance to Seoul National University’s medical school in Korea.

    They won’t take kindly to a son who rejects such an opportunity to become a merchant.

    “The nobles in this world survive by flaunting luxury. I should make something luxurious first, right?”

    If nobles don’t flaunt luxury, they’re devoured by others.

    If you boast about frugality, other families will see you as easy pickings and come at you with forks and knives.

    So, they pour taxes collected from the people into luxury, all to uphold their family’s prestige (and pomp).

    They’re even willing to go into debt with merchants to flaunt luxury.

    Leading a new luxury trend means more chances to get close to the nobles.

    “I need to create a new luxury item to show my potential. But what should I make?”

    Things like glass crafts are already everywhere, and if I spread concepts like Rococo architecture, it might not work.

    There’s a 99% chance of failure because it won’t fit the current trends.

    Art usually fails if it doesn’t follow trends.

    And those trends are set by people as high up as emperors or grand dukes.

    “So, in the end, it has to be something visually pleasing and delicious.”

    In this Tosca Empire, nobles spend most of their time, outside of eating and sleeping, attending lavish banquets and engaging in power struggles.

    Just by creating a fresh, visually appealing dish for these banquets, I could bring some exciting change.

    An indulgent dessert that’s white, fluffy like a cloud, and adored by women...

    “Should I start with a cake made from whipped cream?”

    A cake with a white base topped with vibrant fruits—beautiful to look at, and the ultimate luxury item loaded with sugar and fruit.

    It’s sure to be a hit.

    Failure? That’s simply not an option.

    _____________________________

    Dear Readers,

    I hope you enjoy immersing yourself in the plot of the book with me.

    Your thoughts and ideas mean a lot to me, and I would love to hear your feedback on the translation. Your thoughts, big or small, are incredibly valuable and help me continue to improve and translate books that resonate with you.

    If my translations resonate with you, I invite you to share your thoughts, feedback, recommendations, or simply pass the book along to a friend - your support not only fuels my passion, but also helps these stories find new readers.

    Thank you for being a part of this journey. I look forward to hearing your impressions and sharing how these stories have touched you!

    With warm wishes,

    SataBog??