Chapter 39: People who know how to make money work?
A breeze carrying the salt of the sea swept past the port of Pisa and brushed over the fertile lands of Tuscany.
After disembarking and traveling for several more days by land, the silhouette of a massive city finally revealed itself before In-ho’s eyes.
The city center, where red roofs spread out like rolling waves.
Sturdy stone bridges spanning the Arno River.
And the bell towers and the frames of grand cathedrals rising as if to pierce the sky.
"So this is... Florence."
In-ho let out an exclamation of awe at the sight of Florence, which he was witnessing for the first time in his life.
He had thought Rouen, a key city in France, was quite bustling, but compared to Florence, it was nothing more than a rural backwater.
Instead of mud, the streets were paved with solid stone, and merchants from all over Europe, nobles in colorful silk garments, and bankers with ledgers tucked under their arms were bustling about.
The lively sound of hammers from artists and craftsmen echoed incessantly throughout the streets.
'This is the true face of a Renaissance city. The overwhelming vitality and capital power created by commerce. It’s almost enviable. If I had to be transmigrated, it would have been nice to be transmigrated as a rich man in a place like this.'
A burning ambition stirred deep within In-ho’s chest.
'I must make Rouen like this as well. No, with my knowledge and capital, I can make it a center of civilization far greater and more magnificent than this Florence.'
In this fascinating city where commerce, finance, and art intersected, In-ho solidified his new goal.
However, now was not the time to be lost in sentiment.
In-ho’s purpose for coming to Florence was clear.
To find the true geniuses, obsessed with numbers, who would turn his grand "life insurance" business into reality.
'It would be best to meet the bankers, after all.'
In-ho headed first to the mansion of the Bardi family, the rulers of Florence and the ones known as the kings of European finance at the time.
If it was the Bardi family of this era, they were the most prestigious family in Florence and, at the same time, the wealthiest bankers in Europe.
If anyone knew how to sniff out a profit, they were the ones who would understand the value of his Crusades Preparation Fund and life insurance business better than anyone else.
"They wouldn't be stupid enough to refuse, would they?"
In-ho thought optimistically as he walked, looking around the streets of Florence.
It truly was an enviable city.
.
.
.
.
The Bardi family’s grand mansion was far larger and more opulent than the castle of any average lord.
"So this is the Bardi family... The majesty is impressive."
In-ho was then guided to the reception room.
Giovanni Bardi, a key figure of the Bardi family, sat leaning arrogantly against an expensive velvet chair, scanning In-ho with his characteristically sharp gaze.
"Thank you for the trouble of coming such a long way, 'Living Blessed' of Rouen."
Giovanni’s tone was polite, but his eyes were clearly wary of In-ho.
"It is a pleasure. I lost track of time while sightseeing in Florence on my way here."
"Hahaha. Compared to a backwater like Rouen, this place is practically heaven, isn't it?"
In-ho almost stiffened at the pointed mockery, but he forced a smile and retorted.
"I worry that this splendor might overshadow the glory of the Lord. After all, the Lord sometimes comes to us in humble forms."
Giovanni ignored In-ho’s words and stated his business.
"I hear you’ve been handling quite a lot of money lately... You don't seem to be here to borrow any... If you are here to preach, you don't need to, as I am already hearing enough from the Bishop of Florence. Or perhaps... are you looking to return from Avignon to Rome? If you pay a sufficient price, it is not impossible for me to persuade other cities."
"Hahaha. That is not for me, a mere Archbishop, to discuss."
As financiers for whom information was life, the family had already grasped the fact that In-ho was working hand-in-hand with the Holy See to amass vast amounts of gold.
However, they were not yet sure if this young saint would become their new "mark" or a troublesome competitor.
"Sir Giovanni. I will speak plainly. I have come today to borrow the Bardi family’s excellent 'calculating ability'."
"Ho-ho, calculation, is it? Our family is indeed the best in Europe at counting and keeping ledgers. Do you mean to ask us to manage the Holy See’s contributions? If it is that kind of work, we are quite capable."
"No. The business I am proposing is not a simple role of a vault keeper. It is called 'life insurance'."
In a calm but powerful voice, he explained the concept of life insurance.
A massive fund secured by the lives of Crusaders and lords.
Compensation to be paid to the families of the fallen.
And the "precise calculation of insurance premiums based on mortality rates" that was absolutely necessary to maintain it.
As the explanation continued, Giovanni Bardi’s expression twisted in an increasingly strange way.
"...So."
Giovanni let out a dry laugh and rested his chin on his hand.
"You intend to bet on the lives of people who don't know when they will die, predict that uncertain future with something called 'mathematics,' and make a business out of collecting pennies?"
"They are not pennies. If knights and lords from all over Europe join, a massive amount of capital will be gathered, enough to make the loans you provide to kings look laughable. They need a safety net to prepare for 'crises,' and what I receive is the price for creating that safety net. In fact, it is earning money while sitting still. Isn't it wonderful?"
At that moment, Giovanni’s gaze turned icy.
"You are arrogant, young saint. Whether you perform miracles or not is of no importance to us merchants. But you know nothing of the nature of money."
In-ho was dumbfounded.
'I know less about the nature of money than you? Should I show you a taste of 21st-century capitalism?'
"You say I don't know. Would you care to explain in detail?"
"Finance, by definition, means taking solid collateral, lending money, and then squeezing out a massive 'interest.' Land, castles, tax rights! Only things that are visible and certain become money. Betting on something as uncertain as human lifespan is what third-rate gamblers do."
"Gambling, you say... Of course, it is possible to evaluate this insurance that way. But isn't the seemingly uncertain human lifespan ultimately something that can be predicted statistically?"
"Statistics? Prediction? How can you judge a human life like that? And how is that better than solid collateral? We are already earning money quite well in our own way."
The Bardi family remained stuck in the extremely closed and traditional method of usury.
To them, the modern concepts of probability and statistics were nothing more than empty talk.
"Besides, I’ve been having headaches lately because of your high-and-mighty 'Crusades Preparation Fund.' Because you gave it to Edward III to hire mercenaries, the interest payments on the massive loans our Bardi family lent to England are being delayed."
It was a clear expression of hostility. The Crusade fund that hindered their usury was an eyesore to them.
"We have no intention of wasting our manpower on uncertain gambling. Go back. And tell the King of England to stop playing Crusades and pay back our interest immediately."
Giovanni refused coldly, as if driving in a wedge.
The arrogant attitude of the greatest financial power of the time.
However, far from being flustered, In-ho chuckled inwardly.
'Solid collateral? As if Edward III will ever pay that back. You are a family destined to be the first to go bankrupt and perish when England declares a default within a few years.'
Historically, the Bardi family was destined to fall miserably due to the English royal family’s default.
They were nothing more than an old dinosaur that would disappear into the annals of history, unable to calculate future risks at all.
In-ho stood up without hesitation.
"It seems I have misjudged you. You were nothing more than usurers rotting in an old well. When your solid tax rights and collateral turn into scraps of paper due to a king’s change of heart one day, do not come begging to my fund to save you."
"W-what?! How dare you, do you know where you are...!"
Giovanni stood up, his face reddening, but In-ho had already opened the door to the reception room and walked out.
Having exited the mansion, In-ho looked up at the dazzling sky of Florence and smiled coldly.
'Right. I was a fool to expect innovation from such well-fed power-holders. The talent I want is not those who have already occupied the establishment. They are the truly hungry geniuses who are smart but oppressed and question the common sense of the world.'
Jews, Arab mathematicians of Islamic descent, or scholars hiding away after being branded as heretics, and so on.
In this Middle Ages, there were countless talents still lying dormant.
Moreover, if it was the high school level of mathematics that In-ho knew, it would be a new world to this era.
Rather than dealing with power-holders whose minds were set in their ways, it was better to re-educate talents whose minds were still flexible.
"Shall I cast a bit of bait?"
In-ho left the Bardi family with a wicked smile.
There was no more business with the Bardi family.
They were the ones who had kicked away the opportunity to be given money.
- - - -
In the middle of a bulletin board where merchants and citizens from all over Europe were gathering noisily, a large piece of parchment was posted, featuring a gold florin that shone so brightly it was dazzling.
100 Florins.
An enormous fortune that an ordinary commoner would never touch in their entire life.
In-ho’s mercenaries, who were guarding the pouch containing the gold coins, were standing in front of the notice with fierce expressions.
Countless people were drawn by curiosity and flocked to the notice.
"What kind of problem is this, anyway?"
"Let's see... A test of wisdom issued by Pierre Roger, the Blessed One of the Holy See?"
A man dressed as a scholar, who could read, began to read aloud the text written on the parchment among the crowd.
[I, Pierre Roger, offer a prize of 100 Florins to find the greatest intellect in Europe. I do not ask for status, nationality, or religion. I will award this gold coin only to the person who perfectly presents the correct answer and its mathematical proof to the problem below.]
The crowd’s breathing grew shallow. Just how difficult could a math problem be to warrant a reward of 100 gold coins? The scholar swallowed hard and read the text of the problem aloud.
[There are three boxes closed before you. Only one box contains 'gold,' while the other two contain worthless 'stones.' Suppose you have chosen one box. At that moment, I, who know exactly what is inside every box, open one of the remaining two boxes that you did not choose to show you that it contains a 'stone.' Now, only two closed boxes remain: the one you initially chose and the one I did not open. I ask you now: will you keep your initial choice, or will you switch your choice to the other remaining box? Between switching and not switching, which side has a higher 'probability' of obtaining the gold? Or are the probabilities for both cases exactly the same? Prove the reason.]
The plaza was plunged into silence the moment the problem was read. Then, almost immediately, the people burst into mocking laughter.
"Hahaha! What is this? Is this some kind of wordplay?"
"Obviously, the probability is the same! Since one stone is gone, there are only two boxes left, aren't there? Then it's either this one or that one—it's a 50/50 chance regardless!"
"He's right! Whether you switch or not, it's all down to luck; what kind of mathematical proof could possibly be needed for that? It seems this 'Saint' has more money than sense!"
The self-proclaimed intellectuals—merchants and scholars from Florence—sneered and raised their voices, each insisting that their own answer was the correct one.
Human intuition is shallow, prone to the delusion that because two boxes remain, the probability must be exactly half.
This vicious trap of probability, known in modern mathematics as the Monty Hall Problem, was a puzzle that thoroughly toyed with the human brain—so much so that even countless 20th-century mathematicians were initially deceived by their own intuition and gave the wrong answer.
The bizarre yet perfect truth that switching one's choice increases the probability of obtaining the gold to two-thirds (2/3).
It was a divine problem that could never be solved without piercing through the essence of conditional probability and statistics.
Sitting at an outdoor café in the corner of the plaza, In-ho watched the scene with a relaxed air as he lifted his teacup.
'All those fools shouting "50/50" because they were deceived by their intuition are disqualified. I am looking for the mutant who, amidst the mockery of the crowd, can calculate the shift in probability and prove the truth that switching is advantageous.'
In-ho wore a faint, cynical smile as he muttered to himself.
"Come out and show yourself. The real monster who will take charge of my insurance business."
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