I Became the Sultan of the Ottoman Empire

＃5. Look at This Guy? (1)

“Salty, salty.”

I’ve almost died twice, and the score they gave me? A measly 10 points.

At this point, even Scrooge would say, “This is a bit… much.”

But what can I do? You take what you’re given and make the best of it.

Fortunately, I had gathered enough points to buy my first trait from the shop.

‘At this point, there’s always the advice given to beginners.’

“Sultan, conquer the world.” Don’t have too high expectations for talent or traits.

Just with talent alone, even if I max out my physical ability to 10 and gain divine-level talent, that doesn’t make me a Sultan.

If physical strength alone made someone a Sultan, then Xiang Yu would have defeated Liu Bang, and Lü Bu would have unified China.

Having high intelligence in an era where fists are mightier than the law leaves little room to think, and half the time, you could lose your life to a nighttime visitor.

Charisma? That’s not even worth discussing.

If the most highly rated trait is treated like this, then the lesser traits receive even poorer evaluations.

‘No, the abilities are usable. It’s just the situation where even having these abilities yields no solution that’s the problem.’

It’s easy to say I want a talent as good as Lü Bu’s, but if such a talent were common, would they be evaluated as legendary like Lü Bu?

The issue was that even talents that would significantly mark history couldn’t make one a Sultan.

‘Well, the Sultan’s position doesn’t automatically go to someone with exceptional talent.’

Look at Mustafa, who succeeded his father to bring the Empire to its peak but was executed by his father, Suleiman I, due to conspiracy.

In the end, Selim II, a man lost in wine and women, became the Sultan.

How else can you explain that Selim II’s mother, Hurrem Sultan, is called the empress of the Ottomans?

Anyway, this isn’t the important part.

The important thing is that the gamble I placed my life on succeeded, and I got a chance to utilize my abilities.

If I had missed this opportunity, I would have either wasted four years or been assassinated while the Sultan was absent.

“After all, what I’m aiming for is the difference between games and reality.”

Yusuf, lightly tapping the table, came to a conclusion.

No matter how high the freedom of a game, there are limits, and a gamble like this was something I could only dream of before.

If it were a game, Yusuf would have spent four years twiddling his thumbs, waiting, and ended up dead without any resistance.

Thanks to this, I could feel the stark differences between games and reality.

Ultimately, in games, even if a trait is rated low, I needed to choose one that would show excellent performance in real life.

With a heart pounding as if I had entered a duty-free shop, Yusuf surveyed the shop.

[Strong Grip] [Charming Speech] [Dignified Voice] [Fast Battlefield Awareness]…

This is where you’d see why game developers are called perverts; the traits seemed endless.

There was one absolute rule about traits: there are no unrealistic or excessive abilities.

In simpler terms, you can’t have a trait that bends rebar with your bare hands or uses internal energy like in martial arts, nor can you gain traits with absurd cost-effectiveness.

For instance, to be called a so-called master tactician, you’d need various traits like strategy, mercenary skills, and mental fortitude all jumbled together.

Just adding one trait wouldn’t even come close.

‘So typically, traits need to be built up well.’

If traits are stacked properly, one could become a master tactician or an excellent administrator.

They told me not to have great expectations for each trait.

“That’s in the realm of games. Just the ability to make up for lacking experience can serve the purpose of a trait well.”

Experience and memories of a modern person?

In an era where any misstep can cost you your life, it’s far from enough to face monsters.

The more I surveyed, the more I found good traits that could fill in the gaps, and ultimately, Yusuf settled on two traits.

[Emotion Recognition] [Quick Talent Assessment]

Emotion recognition is, as the name suggests, the ability to easily discern what emotions others are harboring.

High versatility, but also has clear limits; it doesn’t work on monsters coiling with hundreds of snakes in their bellies.

Not only Sultans but even those who have a bit of fame can easily conceal their true intentions, rendering it almost useless in the most critical situations.

Even aside from this limitation, it didn’t earn a great reputation in the game.

‘After all, most high-ranking officials are enemies or neglectful, so there’s no need to confirm with such effort.’

Still, since I’ve earned a measure of goodwill from the Sultan, I needn’t worry about my reputation being at rock bottom.

[Quick Talent Assessment] is the ability to vaguely understand someone’s physical and intellectual abilities.

It sounds like a good trait at first, but measuring physical ability is akin to a stamina test, and intelligence is just one IQ test, which isn’t much.

It’s similar to a competent trainer taking a guess about someone’s potential based on their physique or bare body, and an experienced professor sensing someone’s intelligence after a few conversations.

While it’s decent for talent cultivation, it didn’t receive a great rating in the game either.

‘What’s the point of discovering someone with good talent? Those talented people are unlikely to attach themselves to someone with low chances of becoming a Sultan. From the start, if they’re raised well, they end up getting snatched away.’

If I’m fortunate and end up not being snatched, that’s a minor victory.

‘And it’s a time where what’s received in education is more important than having good talent.’

Don’t confuse this with modern public education.

In this era, even a genius rivaling Einstein could spend a lifetime farming without ever reading a book.

Conversely, even an average talent could be recognized as a competent figure with excellent education.

After much deliberation, Yusuf made a decision.

[Emotion Recognition]

It was an ability that filled in the empty trait.

Even though I used all 10 points gained from two life-threatening crises, I felt no regret.

It’s the most useful ability I could have.

Yusuf called for the servant waiting outside.

“Amal!”

“Did you call for me?”

The servant who entered after opening the door bowed his head.

As Yusuf observed the servant closely, he felt a strange sensation.

Is there always someone around who can pick up on emotions better than others? Is this what that feels like?

He could vaguely sense the servant’s emotions from their breathing, eyes, and tone of voice.

‘Nervousness? Fear? Something like that, I guess.’

Well, there was an assassination attempt just yesterday, and heads had rolled for failing to properly guard the prince.

“How much do I currently have in my spare funds?”

“There are currently 2,000 Venetian ducats.”

‘That’s a lot. Even if I didn’t know when I might die, a prince is still a prince.’

The Venetian ducat was a gold coin minted by the Republic of Venice, functioning as a currency.

Each ducat contains 3.545g of gold with a purity of 99.47%, so you can think of it as roughly equivalent to one gold of about 3.75g.

At this point, one ducat was worth about 60 akçe, and since the entire Ottoman revenue was less than 8 million ducats, you could see how large 2,000 ducats was.

‘Besides the formal income from taxes, there are plenty of other sources of money.’

There were spoils from wars and items brought in from various places.

Even considering all that, 2,000 ducats was a considerable amount for an 11-year-old to have.

Of course, once formally appointed as a Sanjakbey, there’d be plenty of funds to spend, but I couldn’t just spend lavishly.

“But still, when I spend, I should spend wisely. Amal, prepare to go out.”

“Where shall we go?”

Amal asked with a tense face.

He could get beheaded if another assassination attempt occurred, and he worried for himself.

The one who had just died and come back, Yusuf, asked calmly.

“Slave market.”

“W-What, Your Highness?!”

Seeing the servant nearly having a fit, Yusuf waved his hand.

“Just kidding, just kidding. After what happened yesterday, how could I go somewhere crowded?”

Even though it was courageous, going to a slave market was not a place where you’d need courage.

It was obvious I’d lose in one fell swoop the scores I had just acquired by risking my life to become a Sultan. How could I possibly go there?

‘But if I do end up in Trabzon, I should visit at least once.’

Of course, I wasn’t going to look for a beautiful slave with an 11-year-old body. There was a picture I had in mind.

In a large city, there’s bound to be a slave market, so there’s no need to head to the capital’s market. But the capital isn’t called the capital for nothing.

The various treasures of the Ottomans gather here in Constantinople.

Anyway, since I can’t go to the slave market right away, I was pondering how to make effective use of my time when—

– Lady Fatima has come to see you.

“…Ah.”

Her beautiful appearance was overshadowed by her fierce demeanor.

A gaze from Fatima that was scarier than the assassin I had met yesterday sent the servant and guards fleeing.

“Yusuf! If you’re safe, shouldn’t you at least send a message to your mother? Do you know how worried I’ve been all night?”

With her scolding and tears, Fatima anxiously checked for any injuries on me, causing me to sweat bullets for a while.

Getting caught up in my plans made me forget about the person who genuinely cared about me.

Still, knowing there’s at least one person genuinely worried about me in a life surrounded by foes wishing for my death and idle spectators curious about my impending doom wasn’t such a bad feeling.

“Are you laughing while I’m speaking?!”

“…I’m sorry.”

I guess I’ll have to endure the consequences of underestimating maternal instincts.

Once she finally calmed down, Fatima gently stroked my small hand and sighed.

“I’m so sorry. I knew you were doing something dangerous, but hearing the news made me panic. There will be many more dangerous things ahead, won’t there?”

“That seems likely.”

Even if I don’t seek out danger like this time, there will be numerous life-threatening moments ahead.

That’s the fate those who aspire to be Sultans must bear.

“Well, then I shall strengthen my resolve as well. This will not happen again.”

Fatima wasn’t foolish.

She knew her actions could act as shackles to Yusuf.

Knowing how much determination it took for her to say those words, Yusuf quietly nodded.

“Well then, tell me everything about the conversation you had with the Sultan yesterday.”

Yusuf recounted the conversation with the Sultan without holding back, and Fatima listened with admiration and surprise.

“How remarkable that you dreamed such a dream. Then even if it isn’t Trabzon, you’ll soon be appointed as a Sanjakbey.”

“Probably. That’s why I was checking how much money I had.”

“Good. Since I have a business I’m running, adding that amount will secure ample funds.”

These words were like a blessing in a drought for Yusuf.

Just moving soldiers around requires money to be thrown into the air, so having more money is always better.

“I will organize it well and give it to you.”

“Before you organize it, can I check it myself?”

Who knows? It might be more useful to leave it as is than to organize it.

After a moment’s hesitation, considering Yusuf had barely escaped death yesterday, Fatima nodded.

“Then let’s go check it together.”

*

“I’m called Hasan! It’s an honor to meet you, Your Highness.”

Yusuf, meeting Hasan, who operated the business on behalf of Fatima, raised the corners of his mouth.

‘Look at this guy?’