After upgrading his weapons, Mike Bai continued searching for new business opportunities in the city of Veneto.
As he walked down the streets, Mike Bai noticed that most of the common folk wore simple tones of black, gray, and white, while the rich gentlemen or nobles favored brighter, more vibrant colors like blue, green, and red.
He scratched his head and made his way to the Guild of Weavers. Veneto, as one of the major trading hubs of the entire Livorno continent, had everything. Whether it was silk from the East or Byzantium, velvet from the Frankish Kingdom, woolen fabric from England, or the finest wool from Florence—anything and everything was available.
Thanks to the Norman Kingdom's plunder of the Byzantine Empire, the city-states of the Apennines had acquired their own silk factories. While the price of silk had dropped in recent decades, it was still an expensive luxury.
The shop attendant was very enthusiastic and explained to Mike Bai that un-dyed white silk was priced at 4 Nomisima per meter. Meanwhile, dyed silk was more expensive, with the price depending on the color. The most expensive, purple, cost 10 Nomisima per meter.
Mike Bai, recalling his knowledge from his previous life, thought to himself, "The raw materials are easy enough to obtain. This might just be worth it!"
He purchased a piece of un-dyed silk from the store, then made his way to a local grocer in the port district to buy some madder root, and afterward sneaked into the Butcher's Guild to buy some alum.
"Little Mike Bai! What are you cooking up this time?" William approached him as Mike Bai stirred something in his iron pot.
"Want to try it?" Mike Bai asked, offering a spoonful with a devilish grin.
William took one look at the deep red broth made from an unknown plant and recoiled at the sour, bitter smell. "Ha! Uncle William has business to attend to. I'll see you later!" He quickly turned and vanished.
"Bah! So eager to eat, yet can't be found when there's work to do!" Mike Bai grumbled.
Noticing the sand in the hourglass had stopped flowing, Mike Bai quickly flipped it over.
"Ugh, without a proper clock, this is a pain! I have to rely on this thing."
He made a rough estimate of the time, flipped the hourglass again, and set the iron pot aside to simmer. Then, using another pot, he added a piece of white silk and about a quarter of its weight in alum powder, continuing to heat and stir the mixture.
After three more turns of the hourglass, Mike Bai poured part of the liquid from the first pot into the second. He waited another two turns of the hourglass before taking the silk out. The once-white fabric had transformed into a vibrant red.
Looking at the results of his labor, Mike Bai felt like he could hear the sound of gold Nomisima coins pouring into his pockets.
While red wasn't as exclusive as it had been in Roman times, still, due to the rarity of the materials, the price of red fabric remained high.
"But the local guilds won't let me take their business like this," Mike Bai thought, his mind racing. "Maybe I'll sell the formula like I did with the cakes... but this could be risky. Perhaps I should let the chicken lay a few more eggs first."
Just then, Otto and Demore returned to the inn and saw Mike Bai with the red fabric in hand.
"Did you... make this?" Otto asked, astonished.
"Yep! It worked just like the book said! I just tried it out!" Mike Bai said with a grin.
"Then what's bothering you?"
"The guilds here won't let me sell it!" Mike Bai replied.
Otto, mostly satisfied with his nephew but frustrated by his obsession with money, sighed. "We'll be setting sail in 10 days. First, we're heading to Constantinople, and then…"
"Wait! Where are we going?" Mike Bai interrupted.
"Constantinople."
Suddenly, words like "economic center," "trade privileges," and "wealthy elites" rushed into Mike Bai's mind, which quickly merged into a single sentence: "Foolish people, lots of money, come fast!"
"It looks like it's time to make a real fortune!" he thought.
Later that evening, Mike Bai gathered Otto and the three knights to present his business plan.
"With the method I learned from the book, we can easily dye silk. Once we dye this raw silk, the price could nearly double!" Mike Bai said, waving the red silk around like a flag, "We can sell the dyed fabric in Constantinople, where Venetians have trade privileges. And we, as good citizens of Venice, will make a fortune!"
The others looked at him blankly, like innocent victims trapped in a pyramid scheme.
"This ten-day sea journey will give us a 50% profit! Imagine, after just 10 days, the 10 Nomisima you invested could become 15! What are you waiting for?" Mike Bai jumped on the table, wildly waving the red fabric.
The ordinary red cloth seemed to have a strange power, making everyone subconsciously imagine coins falling into their own pockets, their breath becoming heavy.
"We are all pilgrims on a sacred journey," Mike Bai said, making a cross with his fingers, "I believe the Lord will bless our labor."
"Cheers!" William said, pulling out his meager purse and a few coins from his chest pocket. "This is all I've got left, Mike Bai! You'd better take care of me!"
Mike Bai inwardly scoffed, realizing the old man had a secret stash of cash, but kept his smile intact. "First partner secured! Now, who else wants in? If you hesitate, you'll just be watching others make money!"
The rest of the group couldn't hold back anymore, pulling out their purses and eagerly joining in.
Now, with free labor on his side, Mike Bai couldn't help but grin with satisfaction.
In the days before the ship departed, Mike Bai purchased the raw materials he needed, leaving just enough for travel expenses and taxes. With free labor at his disposal, he focused on perfecting the formula for dyeing the silk.
Each night, he and the others would secretly dye the silk, letting it dry through the night before collecting it at dawn. Over ten days, even the knights, though seasoned warriors, grew weary with dark rings under their eyes. But the thought of earning extra money kept them going.
Finally, the day came when they packed the dyed silks into crates and boarded the ship bound for Constantinople.
Mike Bai stood at the bow, still wearing his dark circles, but his heart was filled with ambition.
"Next stop, Constantinople!"
However, as the ship set sail, Mike Bai suddenly ran to the railing, his stomach turning.
"Ugh!" he moaned, feeling the waves hit him.
After ten days of sailing, and after spending much of the time vomiting, Mike Bai finally glimpsed the domes of Constantinople.
The sprawling city lay on a small hill, surrounded by the Sea of Marmara to the south, the Golden Horn to the north, and the entrance to the Dardanelles Strait to the east. From the west, the city loomed over the plains of Thrace. The city's architecture was mostly Roman-style—ancient and imposing. From a distance, Mike Bai could make out the Hagia Sophia's grand dome and the vast amphitheater.
"No matter how many times I come, I always feel like this city is a treasure given to us by the Lord!" a Venetian merchant standing beside Mike Bai said. "The Lycus River never stops flowing into the harbor, providing fresh water and fish. The deep, stable waters make the port an ideal hub for trade. Ships from the North bring furs, from the East come spices, from the West wool, and from the South grain—all blown into this city of wealth. It's said the port taxes alone bring in 20,000 Byzantine silver coins every day."
"20,000?!" Mike Bai gasped, his mind whirling as he looked out at the harbor, which seemed to flow with silver coins.
"Maybe a slight exaggeration, but I don't think it's far off," the merchant added.
"Greetings, I'm Mike Bai Adler from Mecklenburg. May I ask your name?" Mike Bai inquired.
The middle-aged merchant bowed. "I'm March Patro, owner of the Good Fortune ship. Greetings!"
"Do you know much about this city?" Mike Bai asked.
"Of course! I've been running this route since I was 15. If it's your first time here, I recommend visiting the Hagia Sophia or the Great Amphitheater and the Square."
March was incredibly talkative, sharing all sorts of stories about Constantinople, from the fashion of imperial women to the types of Turkish sabers. Mike Bai was thoroughly intrigued by all the fascinating details, his mind swirling with new information.
As they neared the port, March stopped and sighed. "I wish things could stay this way forever."
Mike Bai looked at him quizzically, and March explained, "Under the reign of Emperor Manuel I, the empire was victorious on all fronts, encouraging trade, and the country prospered. The emperor loved lavish purple robes, grand feasts, and majestic buildings, but for merchants like us, it was a golden age."
"But now, the new emperor is only 12, and the empress-regent, Mary, is favoring the emperor's nephew, which has caused discontent among the nobles. The court is embroiled in political struggles, and even small merchants like us are struggling to make a living."
Mike Bai's eyes gleamed. "This March... he might be a useful ally," he thought.
"So, what kind of business are you in?" Mike Bai asked.
"Cloth, weapons, grain—anything profitable," March replied.
"Well, I have a proposition for you," Mike Bai said with his signature smile. "If you can help me make an introduction and close a deal, I'll give you a 10% commission. What do you say?"
Mike Bai's smile deepened. This could be the beginning of a very profitable venture.