The steamer’s performance was highly satisfying.
In just four hours, the walt tree trunks had softened to a tender consistency.
Since the material was already quite soft, peeling the bark was incredibly easy.
It practically fell off at the slightest touch.
Now it was time for the step of boiling the material in lye.
Clank!
“You detach the steamer’s pot like this.”
“Good. Keep going.”
“Yes, sir.”
Originally, I’d planned to make a separate pot.
But time was too short, so this was the only way for now.
Later, Theo would craft all the equipment needed for the process.
Once fully boiled, the fibers had to be mixed with mulberry glue.
But there’s no mulberry glue here.
In that case, wheat flour paste would work fine.
As long as it had adhesive strength to hold the fibers together.
After that came screening with a mold, stacking, and drying.
The final step was beating the still-damp paper.
To make the fibers dense and smooth.
And with that, it was complete—a process that required an immense amount of hand labor.
That’s why hanji was also called “baekji,” paper that goes through a hundred hands.
It’s fine. Labor is the one thing overflowing here.
Land and materials were plentiful too.
The empty lots in Midias would suffice for the site, and walt trees were abundant.
“Paul.”
“Yes, Your Grace.”
“Please oversee the papermaking factory as well. Since we can’t produce cloth for a while, the workload won’t be overwhelming.”
“Of course. My body was itching for more work anyway.”
Paul was extremely dedicated to both his duties and studies.
Having started late, his academic achievements weren’t great.
So he was compensating with sheer effort.
His eyes were bloodshot red, probably from studying all night again.
“Don’t push yourself too hard. If the factory manager’s health suffers, that’s a bigger loss.”
“Keuh! Y-Your Grace…!!”
Paul immediately teared up.
The problem is that heartfelt lip service comes out automatically.
Hey, mister!
This isn’t the time to cry.
“Alright, alright, we don’t have time. We need to produce a prototype by today.”
“Yes, sir!”
The papermaking process was now in its final stages.
The beating step, where I’d introduced a treadle mill.
It had the simplest design, operated just by stepping on it.
Later, I’ll make something like a water-powered mill.
Using horse or ox power would make it much faster and easier.
Without motors, this was the best option.
Clunk! Thump! Clunk! Thump!
Workers took turns firmly stepping on the pedal.
After countless beatings of the hanji, the finished product finally emerged.
The edges were jagged, but the center was astonishingly soft and gleamed pure white.
It was higher quality than any paper I’d seen so far.
“Wow! We made this?”
“I’ve never seen anything like it in my life.”
“Yeah. The books I saw a few years ago were yellowed and tattered.”
“Who do you think invented it? Of course it’d be better than anything else.”
The workers couldn’t hide their amazement as they touched the hanji.
Even though most weren’t familiar with writing, they reacted like that.
Then how would those who wrestled with documents all day respond?
Government officials, tax collectors, merchants, novelists, painters… People who want good paper are everywhere!
Hanji would likely create enormous demand.
How long would they keep recording on parchment or pseudo-papyrus?
When there’s clean hanji without a single blemish.
Now it’s time to set the standards.
In Korea, the most common copy paper was A4.
That came from cutting a full sheet four times.
I planned to use a similar method.
So I’d set the mold’s aspect ratio to 4:3.
Cutting it four times would yield something roughly A4-sized.
Not exactly the same, of course.
I miss the metric system so much.
This was a medieval dark fantasy world.
Proper units of measurement didn’t exist.
Rulers based on a king’s foot or arm length—that kind of era.
I wanted to create an unchanging standard myself, but it wouldn’t make much difference.
How was that different from the chaotic units everywhere?
Unless I became emperor and standardized them myself…
Ah, I shouldn’t keep thinking like this.
I shook my head vigorously and examined the finished paper.
Honestly, I hadn’t expected success on the first try.
The environment was quite different from Korea’s.
But perhaps thanks to the good material, the results were very satisfying.
“Trim the edges and cut it four times.”
“Yes.”
The workers moved the paper to a frame and carefully handled the cutter.
Worried it might go astray, apparently.
But since it was fixed in place, the chance of failure was low.
As long as the blade was sharp.
“Put proper force into it and cut in one go.”
“Yes, sir!”
Clack! Slice! Slice!
A tickling sound reached my ears, and soon an A4-sized finished sheet popped out.
I stacked several and rubbed them between my fingers.
Swish!
The resilience was better than expected.
Comparable to modern copy paper, perhaps?
Of course, unlike chemical pulp, it had a warm texture.
Made the traditional way—how could it not be this good?
I gathered the finished products with a pleased expression.
“From now on, focus on the papermaking factory. You’ll need more workers, right?”
“Probably. It’s harder than spinning.”
“I’ll recruit and send them, so do well.”
“Yes, Your Grace.”
“I’ll hire dedicated woodcutters too—don’t forget to plant saplings.”
“Of course.”
Walt trees had little use, so they grew wildly everywhere.
But they weren’t infinite.
Making hanji would eventually deplete them.
I’d ordered planting at least double what was cut.
Then I immediately sought out Butler Miller Xavier.
“Hah! Who would’ve thought it’d be this good. Truly astonishing, Your Grace.”
As expected from someone close to ink, he recognized hanji’s excellence right away.
His eyes were already gleaming with greed.
He probably wanted to use it for work immediately.
But this already had an owner.
“I’ll give you plenty once production stabilizes, so don’t eye it now.”
“Then this is headed to the court?”
“No. Promotion comes first. It’ll go to the imperial palace.”
“Ah!”
Whatever I made, I always took care of the emperor first.
To avoid backlash.
Plus, it was an incredibly effective promotion method.
Once the imperial family and government started using it, it’d spread to the private sector in no time.
But I didn’t want to deliver it personally.
“I’m far too busy with work. I’ll visit later.”
Even if it looked like fleeing in a panic, it was all intentional.
I’d sucked quite a bit of gold from my cousin with the board game.
What if he got sulky and swung the hammer recklessly?
Then Butler Miller Xavier—and countless others—would lose their jobs.
Hanji truly caused a storm.
Thin and light, yet clean, with ink drying well.
There was no better material for recording anything.
Naturally, demand was higher among nobles than commoners.
“Duke Carius?”
It was during a light stroll after finishing morning duties.
Suddenly, someone addressed me.
A complete stranger.
“Who are you?”
“Pleased to meet you. I am Rufus Schultz. I run a modest merchant group in the south.”
It was a rather humble introduction, but he was actually a big shot.
Count Schultz was famous as a tycoon in the continent’s south.
Moreover, he was a central figure in the Giovanni noble faction.
Not as bad as the Sierre faction, but still troublesome.
When our dear Skyler was about to be released, he’d subtly lent a hand.
Not a fond memory for me.
Prime situation for a cold shoulder.
Yet he approached anyway—meaning he desperately wanted the paper.
“Count Schultz is no mere merchant head. What brings you here?”
I feigned ignorance and asked his purpose.
At the negotiation table, I held a huge advantage—no need to reveal my cards.
Rufus Schultz smacked his lips and said,
“His Majesty the Emperor praised the paper highly. Said he hadn’t seen such a fine item in recent years.”
“Overpraise. Actually, there are plenty of better things out there.”
“Hah! Things like the cloth Your Grace made, the dried cordyceps pills, or the Enpher Trip are indeed remarkable.”
I couldn’t help but be inwardly surprised.
It carried that implication.
That paper wasn’t my only invention.
Yet Count Schultz pinpointed it exactly.
Not an ordinary man.
As expected from the south’s tycoon—sharp instincts.
How he saw through my thoughts was a mystery.
I let out a faint smile.
His goal was obvious; wordplay was pointless.
“What do you want?”
“Please supply paper to our merchant group. We’ll buy the entire stock at a good price.”
“The empire itself isn’t properly supplied yet.”
“Of course. I have no intention of selling it immediately in the south. We’ll proceed step by step.”
“Is that so? Then how much are you thinking?”
With paper available, replacing parchment would happen in an instant.
No matter the price.
Count Schultz let out a low hum with an expressionless face.
“…”
Pretending to ponder, but he’d already decided.
Calculated every benefit and reached a conclusion.
Soon, Rufus Schultz’s mouth opened.
“One per sheet…”
But right at that moment.
Someone abruptly cut in, spreading two fingers wide.
“I’ll pay double that. Two silons per sheet—how about it, Your Grace?”
A plump, middle-aged nobleman.
The sudden intruder was also someone I barely knew.
An introduction would likely follow.
But the interrupter couldn’t continue.
“What nonsense is that? Trying to buy such a precious item at that paltry price. I’ll pay three silons. Thre—”
This time, a skinny noble cut in, spreading three fingers.
It was truly an absurd scene.
I was just strolling in front of the court, yet receiving nobles’ affectionate advances.
Is this what they call “take my money already”?
Naturally, I had no intention of exclusive contracts.
I’d just sell to whoever bid highest at the time.
Paper isn’t fish, but with high demand, what can you do?
Auctioning at market price was most profitable.
“By now, about 500 A4 sheets should be ready. How much will you all pay? If three silons is the max…”
I never imagined holding an auction in front of the court.
It was quite awkward and undignified, but no one cared.
Scanning the nobles’ faces, Count Schultz raised his hand high.
“Four—four silons!”
A4-sized parchment currently went for about three silons.
A perfectly viable price.
I folded my fingers one by one as I spoke.
“Five, four, three, two, one… The initial 500 sheets go to Count Schultz. There we go.”
I took Rufus Schultz and entered the court.
To draft the contract quickly before any nonsense arose.
But how long will that price last?
My original goal was to change society in a positive direction.
Like with cloth, it needed to be accessible to everyone.
Paper’s uses were endless.
It could even be made into armor.
I smiled softly at Count Schultz as he drafted the contract.
Think of it as karma for the debt Duke Giovanni owes me.