The Incompetent Emperor Who Changes the World from the Shadows: Iron, Gunpowder, and the Young Maidens of Favor - Chapter 8: Science and the Strategic Selection of a Figurehead

Chapter 8: Science and the Strategic Selection of a Figurehead

I sit at the desk in my office, rolling a block of soap between my fingers for a while.

The scent isn’t bad. The surface is smooth and well-made.

But it’s useless against stubborn stains.

It barely lathers, leaving grease embedded in the fabric.

No wonder Ariel was scrubbing cloth with chapped hands at the washing area.

(The level of civilization is early 20th century, but soap is still in the realm of “noble luxury,” isn’t it?)

If my memory is correct, modern synthetic detergents were born in Germany during World War I.

Due to a shortage of natural fats, petroleum-derived surfactants were researched as a substitute, later transitioning to mass production.

This world already has petroleum.

It’s available domestically and in the colonies.

And it’s still in a state of “surplus.”

(Letting it be used just for lamp oil or lubricants is far too wasteful.)

Linking the everyday act of cleaning to industrial resources.

If this can be achieved, it would mean:

• • Revolutionizing daily life

• • Improving industrial hygiene

• • Enhancing maintenance for military supplies

And, most importantly, it would create a massive market.

(It’ll sell. No doubt about it.)

Winning a war requires money.

Weapons, soldiers, training, transportation—all of it is just a pipe dream without funds.

So, the emperor needs to “make money himself.”

There’s no other way.

I stand up and flip through the reports stacked in the corner of the room.

Mining reports, colonial resource management records, university research summaries.

Every one of them mentions “petroleum.”

But not a single document suggests using it as a cleaning agent.

In other words, this idea hasn’t been discovered by anyone yet.

(I have to do it. The first to act wins.)

I return to my chair and pull some documents toward me.

What I need is:

• • Funding (I’ve already got a plan for that).

• • Talent (I should be able to find some with enough searching).

• • And… a figurehead to front the operation.

Starting a company openly under my own name would be a bad move.

But I have the perfect candidate.

(Ariel… I might have to rely on you.)

Since meeting her, I had Sopina look into her a bit.

She’s the daughter of a baker in the imperial capital, the eldest of seven sisters.

I don’t know where she learned, but she can read and write.

She has a good reputation among the maids.

She knows the “field” of laundry, is honest, and doesn’t lie.

She’s another set of eyes, with a perspective on “everyday life” that an emperor can’t reach.

I let out a quiet breath.

I don’t desperately want to win this country’s war.

There’s no one I’m dying to help win it for.

But since I’ve decided to “live” in this world, I need to have at least some means to financially support this country.

Otherwise, it’s all just talk.

I don’t know how much I can funnel into nuclear research, but this could be a stepping stone to expanding the business.

“I have to make it happen. Detergents, money, and the foundation to win.”

My words are soft, almost like I’m convincing myself.

※

“How far has petroleum use progressed in this country?”

I ask the question during a brief break after an afternoon audience.

On a whim, as the emperor, I summoned a few senior chemical advisors from the Court Technology Bureau to my office.

They’re a mix—some plump, some scrawny, but all have the look of typical scholars.

These are supposed to be distinguished academics in the Empire, their words carrying weight… or so it’s said.

“Petroleum, Your Majesty?”

One of the advisors speaks up, looking unsure of my question’s intent.

“Yes. I’ve heard that mining output has increased in the colonies recently. What are its uses?”

The chemical advisors answer promptly.

“It’s mainly used as fuel for oil lamps, gasoline for automobiles, lubricants, and processing agents for light machinery.”

I nod and follow up with another question.

“Let’s say, hypothetically, that a component extracted from petroleum had ‘cleaning power.’

How would it compare to current soaps?”

The advisors exchange glances.

The brief silence already tells me their answer.

“Your Majesty… petroleum is, after all, an oil. It’s part of the ‘dirt’ that needs cleaning.”

“I’m asking as a hypothetical.”

“Y-Yes… but cleaning is a ‘natural purification.’

The combination of animal fats and lye has been considered the gentlest and most effective method since ancient times.”

“So, a synthetic substance derived from petroleum would be unnatural and unsuitable for noble society?”

“…That’s our view, at least for now.”

It’s exactly the reaction I expected.

They have modern “knowledge.”

But they lack the imagination to “repurpose” it.

The idea of linking daily life to economics is almost nonexistent for them.

To them, research is a noble pursuit, a sacred discipline tied to tradition.

It’s different from the “science” I know from the 21st century.

(In other words, there’s a gap here. Unused knowledge, unseen perspectives.)

If I can exploit that, I can get ahead.

“…I understand. Thank you for your cooperation.”

“An honor, Your Majesty.”

I put on a gentle smile and send the advisors off.

Once the door closes and their footsteps fade, I finally relax my shoulders.

“They cling to what they know. I expected it, but not to this extent.”

There’s a term for this… Semmelweis reflex, wasn’t it?

It’s not a technological barrier.

It’s a barrier of “perception.”

In this world, the very idea of washing clothes with petroleum is still considered “heresy.”

But that also means there are zero competitors.

“Right now, anything I put out will be the ‘first.’ So, I have to do it.”

I return to the desk and spread out the resource lists and researcher directories again.

I’m looking for someone unbound by conventional wisdom.

Someone who sees petroleum not as “fuel” or “dirt” but as a “material.”

※

Brunhilde Palace is quiet at night.

The daytime splendor feels like a lie, with barely any sign of life in the outer corridors.

By the light of a single candelabrum in my office, I pore over stacks of documents.

My goal is singular: find a technician researching petroleum.

The chemical advisors spouted nothing but tradition and common sense.

Using petroleum for cleaning is “unthinkable” to them.

But I know better.

I know the origins of surfactants and how valuable they were in wartime Germany.

The question is whether anyone in this era is even beginning to reach for that possibility.

Normal methods won’t cut it for finding out.

So, I decide to rely on another heretic—Sopina’s power.

She’s already settled in a corner of the room, flipping through a small book.

But the moment I look at her, she snaps it shut.

You’ve had that look a lot lately.

“What are you talking about?”

That face you make when you’re hunting for information.

Your eyes stop moving when you’re deep in thought, so it’s easy to tell.

Since when did she start observing me like that?

Half-amused, I get to the point.

“I want to find someone at the Imperial University or nearby who’s been ‘chemically analyzing’ petroleum or coal.

They don’t need to have realized its use for detergents.

If they’re digging into its structure, I can work with that.”

Sopina tilts her head slightly.

I can check people I know if you give me names…

“Name lists won’t catch everything.

That’s why I need your ‘information-gathering ability.’

Target record keepers in academic circles or archive classifiers.

People who collect information indiscriminately—they’re bound to have something.”

A brief silence follows.

She stares at me, then a smile curls on her lips.

…Alright. That’s easy enough to find.

The next day, Sopina returns with a concise report.

I found one.

A record keeper at the engineering department mentioned a “slightly odd paper” that stuck in their memory.

She hands me a memo with the following details:

[Raum Schwartz, Imperial University of Engineering]

[Preliminary Study on Liquid Extraction Components from Coal via High-Pressure, High-Temperature Processing]

[Chemical structure resembles alkylnaphthalene sulfonate, per findings]

[Practicality unevaluated. Record only]

“…There he is.”

The paper’s content is clear.

The seeds of surfactants.

Since the research focuses on coal, it should be structurally feasible to adapt it to petroleum.

“What’s this Schwartz doing now?”

He’s a lecturer.

He’s in the capital.

Not flashy, but dedicated to research.

…Though he seems a bit socially clumsy.

Doesn’t seem interested in cozying up to higher-ups.

So, the type driven by conviction?

That means there’s a way to win him over.

“…Not bad. He’s worth recruiting.”

How?

“I can’t just summon him openly.

I’ll have him scouted for a ‘private research workshop’ I’m funding behind the scenes.

The figurehead will be that laundry maid, Ariel.”

Sopina’s eyes widen.

Her, as the figurehead?

“She can read and write, knows the field, seems trustworthy, and doesn’t stand out publicly.

That’s a solid set of qualifications.

Plus… she’s one of the few people I can trust in this world.”

…Hmm. So, you’ll pitch it like ‘washing the country clean with new bubbles’?

“Stop it. What am I, a romantic poet?”

Hehe, too bad.

She laughs teasingly, but I glance back at the paper with Schwartz’s name.

The paper was written three years ago.

Unnoticed, unused, buried knowledge.

But now, it’s about to be unearthed—by my hands.

“This is where it begins. The pieces are coming together.”