New Year, 1589.
The few Shine Muscats left are slowly passing their storage life and going off. I should try making something else with them. Infusing liquor, maybe?
···I’m sick and tired of the pseudo-wine brewed from Shine Muscats. Starting next year, the Korean wine grape cultivar “Cheongsu” will come in.
In any case, since it was everyone’s first New Year in the Croatoan colony, they were all excited.
And I was···
“Cabbage, lettuce, cabbage, corn, potatoes··· what else was there? Ah, tomatoes.”
I was organizing a list of “foodstuffs that can be produced.”
As for livestock, we have about chickens. Kkokko and Daekdaegi have already started families. The number of hens in particular is steadily increasing, so before long it may be possible to distribute some to the villagers.
But what I need to worry about right now is···
“···Crops.”
That’s right. Since the colony’s population has suddenly swelled to 300, I have to somehow feed these people with agricultural products.
Well, of course, most of them are natives, so there’s no great cause for concern. They were people who had originally lived and eaten well around here, so even if the farming fails, it won’t end with everyone starving to death.
It will merely reduce the centripetal force of this colony.
If I want to settle those 300 people here firmly, I need to carefully and steadily draw up a year-long farming plan starting now.
All the more so when I consider that from March, when the last frost has passed, until September, when harvest season approaches, six whole months will have to be devoted to the Shine Muscats and other grapes.
“···First, I need to increase the grapes.”
I had forgotten for a while. The fact that wine is a necessity for Europeans, especially Christians of this era.
We can’t keep brewing and drinking Shine Muscat wine··· or whatever that stuff is, with no proper acidity, forever. At least it’s fortunate that I have wine grape varieties.
I’ve already scouted out land to newly cultivate the wine grapes, so it would be best to start preparing the groundwork there from now on.
First of all, as long as the death of grapes, the disaster of viticulture, the enemy of grape farmers—the phylloxera mite—exists somewhere on this land, directly planting Cheongsu cuttings is out of the question.
In the end, I have no choice but to plant rootstock resistant to phylloxera and graft onto it. So this, too, is long-term work that has to be done over time.
With that, matters concerning grape farming were settled for now.
Aside from grapes, I have quite a number of crop varieties. This is all thanks to my mother, who, after moving to the countryside, couldn’t get along with the neighbors and devoted herself to tending the vegetable garden.
Thank you, Mother! On Parents’ Day, I’ll bow three times in the direction of the Korean Peninsula···!
Anyway, when it comes to crops that can be grown in February and March, they’re lettuce, napa cabbage, cabbage, tomatoes, potatoes, and so on.
Among these, lettuce, napa cabbage, and cabbage are especially important.
They take little in the way of resources and labor, and even double cropping is possible. There’s a reason people plant a lot of them in vegetable gardens.
“Especially··· I should plant more cabbage.”
After all, it would be beneficial to grow vegetables more familiar to European palates.
Likewise, tomatoes, which will still be very unfamiliar, should be introduced cautiously, while focusing on cultivating already widely known crops such as beets.
Then, once time passes, the last frost ends, and grape-farming season arrives··· the backbreaking labor begins again.
This time, it won’t just be Shine Muscats, but Cheongsu, Black Sapphire, and many other varieties to harvest. On top of that, if I’m going to expand the vineyards too, things will get very busy.
If the available labor force hadn’t increased to 300 people··· it would have been damn hard.
“This should be enough.”
With a few clicks, I saved the file titled “1589 One-Year Farming Plan.hwp” and stretched.
Now it truly begins.
1589.
My first spring in this place is coming.
···Right.
There are things I need to organize before I start farming.
***
Goldsmith Mr. William Brown, in high spirits as always, rang the thing called a “doorbell” at Lord Nemo’s mansion to receive the gold of the New World, “aluminum.”
“Mr. Brown, could you wait a moment?”
“Ah, of course, Lord Nemo. I can wait as long as you wish.”
Only after he had waited quite some time did Lord Nemo come out of the mansion. He was carrying an armful of unfamiliar and wondrous objects.
···Strange. Normally, he only handed over aluminum cans and aluminum foil.
“Mr. Brown? I have something to ask of you.”
“Ah, say anything you like! So long as you don’t cut off the aluminum supply.”
“At any rate, do you remember the item called an ‘electronic scale’ you saw last time?”
“Of course! Ever since I saw it, I have prayed to God every day. Asking Him to grant me just one scale that precise···”
“The time has come to use that scale.”
“···Pardon?”
Saying that, Lord Nemo abruptly led Mr. Brown toward the warehouse. When Lord Nemo opened the shutter—also made of aluminum—countless mysterious machines and materials stood lined up inside.
“Ah··· no matter how many times I see it, what an awe-inspiring sight···.”
“Mr. Brown, this way, if you please.”
“Yes, Lord Nemo.”
Thus the two of them took along another large scale that had been there and headed to Mr. Brown’s workshop.
Villagers passing by peered over, wondering what was happening so early in the morning, and greeted them, but Mr. Brown merely ran on with his brows flying. It was because Lord Nemo was moving especially urgently today.
‘Just how important could this be···.’
Thud.
“Is this right···? No, this is right. Still··· once I do this, regretting it won’t help, so let’s think it over one last time. Whether this is really right···”
“What on earth is this about, Lord Nemo?”
William Brown was not so much devout in a religious sense as he was an exceedingly worldly man.
If most of the Englishmen who came to this colony had set out on the long journey under Puritan fervor or with the goal of making something of their lives, William Brown’s purpose was simple.
Gold.
Shiny things.
Therefore, even if others bowed their heads to Lord Nemo while calling him a great angel, Mr. Brown could still think of him as the provider of aluminum and treat him relatively comfortably.
After all, wealth before one’s eyes was more immediate than faith.
“···Mr. Brown.”
Gulp.
However, Mr. Brown just now revised that thought.
Somehow··· Lord Nemo’s face, as he set the mood and called him forth, looked holy. His already handsome face held something like firm resolve, and for some reason an intense charisma could be felt from him.
“Ah··· um··· that is···.”
“The task I am entrusting to you today, Mr. Brown, is a truly important undertaking for our colony.”
“Yes, Lord Nemo?”
“Of course··· it is also work that holds very important meaning for me as well. I would like you to devote all your strength to it.”
“Ah, o-of course! If it is important to you, Lord Nemo, I would leap into hell itself!”
Having said that, Mr. Brown startled even himself. Was I always such a faithful person?
Or was “that scene” he had witnessed in the previous battle against the Spaniards so shocking and impressive?
He didn’t know.
At any rate, when Mr. Brown steeled his resolve like that and beat his chest, Nemo smiled, nodded, and patted him on the shoulder.
“Then I will tell you what I need you to do.”
“···Yes.”
The words that followed were rather different from what Mr. Brown had expected.
“First, I need you to study.”
“Yes, of cour··· pardon?”
“Here, look at this scale. What does it say?”
“···‘g’?”
“Read it as gram.”
“G-Gram···.”
“One thousand times that is a kilogram.”
“Are there other units in between···”
“We don’t need to use them. And one one-thousandth of it is a milligram.”
“Mi-milligram.”
“From now on, regarding weight, I intend to enforce the use of only this unit! This system of units alone.”
“···.”
“···.”
“···C-Could it be.”
“Yes.”
“Is that··· the Lord’s will?”
“···.”
“···.”
“···Uh··· yes, more or less. It is the Lord’s will.”
“Ah, aaaaah···!”
“Please make weights according to this system of units. And likewise.”
Rustle. Rustle.
“The volume of this container is called one liter. It is written with a capital ‘L.’”
“Aaaaah···! Likewise, do we use only milliliters and kiloliters?”
“Well, yes.”
“···.”
“I’m counting on you. Please make and distribute them as accurately as possible. Farming season is coming soon.”
“···What does farming season coming have to do with that···”
“I want to distribute pesticides, fertilizer, and seeds to people as fairly and accurately as possible. That is··· uh···.”
“···Because it is the Lord’s will?”
“···More or less, yes. If, through your efforts, we can prevent needless disputes and drive away confusion, how could that not appear beautiful in the eyes of Heaven?”
“···Aaaaaah!”
Mr. Brown slowly walked to his workbench, and the weights that had been there···
Clatterrrrrrr!
He swept them all onto the floor.
“···Wh-why are you doing that?”
“···.”
“···.”
“···.”
Mr. Brown smiled through tear-filled eyes and took Nemo’s hand.
“I have··· just driven out the products of sin.”
“Uh···.”
“From now on, I shall use not the scales of man, but the scales made by the Lord’s hand···!”
“Ah··· yes, well, using duodecimal is indeed a sin, but yes. Do your best.”
“Leave it to me···!”
And so Mr. Brown began working with a fervor he had never shown before.
“···Is this really right?”
And “Lord Nemo” fell into belated regret.
Had he known that a scripture collecting his sayings was already being made, he would have fainted dead away.
***
The new system of units spread quickly.
“Uh··· pesticide, five li-liters? Please!”
Swaaaaaaash!
“Next person, come forward.”
“The seed potatoes··· um··· I need about 20 libras more···.”
“Drag him out.”
“···Pardon? U-uuaaagh!”
“Next.”
“W-we need about 10 pounds···”
“Drag this one out too.”
“Kuaaaaaagh!”
Because when resources were distributed in the Croatoan colony, the use of liters and grams was strictly enforced.
If they wanted to survive, they had no choice but to get used to the new system of units somehow. Those who had grumbled at Mr. Brown’s threats at first became docile in an instant once they heard it was “Nemo’s command.”
After all, compared to units that changed by region and by item, unified units were easier to get used to and reasonably intuitive.
On top of that, the community numbered only 300 people to begin with, and units of weight and volume—unlike units of length, where secular authority intruded with things like the length of a king’s arm—met with less resistance.
Thus the “heavenly system of units” slowly spread among Algonquians, Spaniards, and Englishmen alike.
And the system of units that spread in this way soon came to be used in other fields as well···.
“Huff, haaah, I moved all 20 kilograms of stone.”
“Hmm··· then go over there and dump it out.”
Rumbleeeee!
It was none other than the construction site of a massive grave.
The hundred or so Spaniards who had died in the previous battle had originally had their remains roughly gathered and buried, but when the Spaniards who had been their comrades showed signs of discomfort, this communal cemetery was made.
Over a hundred stone graves were piled up, and over a hundred headstones rose before them. Their names, ranks, and so on were gathered as much as possible through their comrades, and the rest were reburied together in nameless graves.
The opening ceremony of the cemetery beside the church thus created.
“···Do I really have to give the speech, Eleanor?”
“Of course. If you don’t do it, Lord Nemo, who will?”
“What do you think about Mr. Huet doing it?”
“You would be much better than that, Lord Nemo. If you give the speech, won’t the Spaniards believe their comrades will go to heaven?”
“···If that’s the reason, then I suppose.”
As Eleanor and I whispered to each other like that, we glanced at the crowd waiting for us.
All 300 colonists were in attendance. We couldn’t keep them waiting any longer.
I stepped up onto the simply prepared platform and raised my head toward them.
All I had to do was say something nice enough.
If this helped the dozens of Spaniards blend in moderately well, that would be good. If there were any seeds of conflict, it would be even better to shake them off here.
“Ahem. All the people of our island have gathered here.”
“…”
“…”
“…”
…What was I supposed to say next?
I had no idea why everyone had naturally assumed I would recite something like a eulogy. I was the only one who didn’t know. If I’d known beforehand, I would have prepared something, but right now my mind was completely blank.
On top of that, they seemed to think of me as some needlessly mysterious being, which only made me even more nervous. It was driving me mad.
…Hooo. Calm down.
“…Whose fault was the last battle?”
All I had to do was say something nice enough.
“Was it the fault of the Spanish soldiers? Or was it the fault of the Algonquins and the English? Was it the fault of the English authorities who built this colony? Or was it the fault of the Spanish colonial government that decided to attack it?”
“…”
“…”
“It was no one’s fault.”
Honestly, it was Spain’s fault. Why send troops to a colony that was already completely ruined?
Come to think of it, hadn’t England built this place to use it as a base for piracy? They were at fault too.
The only ones not at fault here were the natives… Forget it. What was the point of bringing that up?
“…That is right. It was no one’s fault.”
Now we were all one family, so if I said it was someone’s fault, the colony would fall apart.
“The sins and faults of another are far too complex a matter for a handful of people to whisper among themselves and judge.
At times, people are pushed from behind into committing sin, and yet the one who pushed them often bore no malice either. Let us say that five people stand in the path of a herd of cattle, and if you do not change its direction, those five will die, while if you do change its direction, the person standing on the altered path will die.
Between the one who, not wishing to murder, does not change the direction and lets five people die, and the one who changes the direction and causes one innocent person to die, which of them is the sinner? Which of them has broken the commandment?”
“…”
“…”
“…”
“It is difficult. A difficult question.”
The trolley dilemma.
The moment the question was thrown out, everyone suddenly began to ponder. That’s right. It must look profound somehow.
“Man established kings and laws to govern order among men, yet they remain far too crude to discern all the sins upon the earth.
Even the wisest among us, compared to the great Lord, possesses wisdom worth less than a speck of dust. How, then, could we possibly fathom all the sins of men?”
“Ah, aaah!”
…Was it that moving?
Expressing my gratitude to Professor Michael Sandel, who had taught me the trolley dilemma, I continued speaking.
“Those who now lie cold here died while threatening me and this colony, but among them, who was righteous and who was wicked is a matter for the Lord to discern. As humans, we cannot know—”
“Sir Nemo!”
“…What is it, Mr. Vicente González?”
“Did my soldiers go to heaven?”
Were you even listening properly? I just said humans can’t know.
…I almost snapped at him like that, but Vicente’s expression was so serious that I shut my mouth and hurriedly made something up.
“All I can say is that if they were truly faithful, then someday they shall make their way to heaven. However, they must pay for their sins.”
“T-then…!”
“Yes. Those who were truly righteous will be able to go to heaven after paying the price of their sins.”
“Ah… Aaah!”
…Well, that should be enough. Something nice enough.
I added a few more things you might hear if you went to church casually, then stepped down from the platform. Repent. Hallelujah. Be kind to your neighbors, honor your parents, sort your trash properly… Well, and so on.
And when I came down.
“…Sniff, sob. It was truly moving, Sir Nemo.”
Eleanor… came running over in tears.
What… was that?
I still don’t understand the sensibilities of this era.
***
“…Though I am a staunch Calvinist, now that everything has been made so plainly clear, I suppose I have no choice but to acknowledge it.”
At the worship service that day, Mr. Hewett began writing down Sir Nemo’s “revelation” in large letters before the believers.
—“Those who were truly righteous can go to heaven after paying the price of their sins.
→ There is a place where one pays for one’s sins after death.
→ There exists purgatory, or some similar place, which does not appear directly in the Bible!
→ The claim of ‘Scripture alone (Sola scriptura)’ leaves room for reconsideration!
“In that case, we must, er, reconsider just how much of the teachings of the great Reformers we ought to accept…”
Mr. Hewett’s head spun round and round.
“Whether one keeps the Law, what is good… Humans cannot know by their own will? Then… why did we burn Protestants at the stake…?”
Conversely, Vicente likewise found his head reeling over the “angel’s” bombshell statements.
“Then… th-the angel’s words mean… perhaps that we must not obsess over some trifling doctrine and kill or be killed for it?”
“Aaah!”
“Ah…!”
And at those words someone threw out, the distinctions of Catholic, Lutheran, and Calvinist that had remained faintly in the settlement melted away.
That day, Thomas Hewett and Vicente González embraced each other and wept.
The great angel Nemo achieved harmony between Catholics and Protestants twenty-nine years before the Thirty Years’ War.
The person in question was currently opening the last remaining cola and popcorn while watching the theatrical version of “Demon x Slayer,” but… in any case, that was what happened.
Today, too, the Croatoan settlement is peaceful.