Became The Sultan Of The Ottoman Empire [EN]: Chapter 22

#22. Internal Affairs (4)

After Yusuf risked his life gambling for the first time, he resolved to never entrust his life solely to luck.

To achieve this, he needed two things: power and information.

Personal power was out of the question. Talent aside, there was no way a child could adequately protect himself.

Ultimately, he needed a collective force to protect him. Having created the 50-man personal guard, the chances of his life being in danger were significantly reduced.

‘The real problem was intelligence gathering.’

This kind of intelligence network couldn’t be built quickly.

Even the Beggars’ Sect and the Hao Clan, which frequently appear in martial arts stories, require a massive human network to function effectively.

‘Even if the manpower problem could be solved with money, the challenge was finding a reliable way to obtain information.’

A prince couldn’t realistically raise beggars or run a tavern, no matter how important information was.

The answer to this problem was closer than he thought.

As more people sought barley tea, they gathered around the store, naturally turning it into a place where rumors circulated.

‘Honestly, it was an unexpected bonus, so I got lucky.’

He never imagined barley tea would become so popular so quickly, and he hadn’t foreseen this particular benefit.

In any case, over several months, the barley tea shop’s reputation spread throughout Trabzon, and an information network centered around the shop began to operate in earnest.

It was still in its early stages and had many shortcomings, but within Trabzon, it gathered most of the available information.

Yusuf looked down at Kahit’s head, his eyes wide with shock at the moment of his death.

‘Thanks to that network, I knew he was preparing something suspicious.’

People with inheritance grievances gathered around Kahit, and Yusuf had been collecting evidence and watching them.

It was a noose to hang around Burka’s neck.

Though he never imagined he would see that noose used in this way.

Yusuf asked with a stiff face.

“Burka Sobashi, I trust you understand the implications of your statement just now?”

“…Of course.”

Burka’s face, after personally beheading his son, looked ten years older in that short time.

Yusuf raised his head and looked around.

Perhaps because Burka had walked through the crowd covered in blood, a large number of people had gathered, including many Sipahi [Ottoman cavalrymen].

‘If it were an assassination of a prince, even the father, Burka, would be punished.’

Could he punish him in this atmosphere?

It ended with a conspiracy, not an execution, and the person involved, his son, was personally punished.

Legally, it was ambiguous to impose punishment, and saying he would execute Burka would make the situation even more tense.

‘Do I have to let him go again like this?’

To think he would kill his own son to survive; he was indeed a formidable and difficult opponent.

As Yusuf pondered how to deal with Burka, he heard words he never expected.

“I will repay my son’s sin with my life.”

For a moment, he thought he had misheard.

It wasn’t just Yusuf who thought this; there was an uproar around him.

“Silence!!”

A chilling rebuke silenced the crowd again, and Yusuf met Burka’s gaze as he looked up at him.

“Are you serious?”

“Of course.”

He wondered if it was a ploy to set up another scheme, but there was no deception in his calm voice.

The opponent he had wanted to capture so badly was offering his own neck, yet Yusuf felt no joy.

That’s why the words that followed were impulsive.

“I will overlook everything that has happened so far. How about pledging your loyalty to me?”

He knew how foolish this statement was.

He didn’t know how much he could trust the loyalty of a man who had lost his son, and if he missed this opportunity, it would be even harder to catch Burka.

Logically, he knew he should kill him, but…

‘It would be a waste to just kill him.’

His strength that didn’t easily waver in any crisis, his leadership that bound his subordinates together, and his cleverness in quickly navigating every crisis…

He wanted to have it, even at the risk.

Burka wore a faint smile at Yusuf’s question.

It was the first smile he had shown, but the words that followed were not the answer he wanted.

“Prince Selim would not have shown such dangerous mercy.”

“…Is that a refusal?”

“Your Highness.”

Burka, calling Yusuf briefly, carefully stroked his son’s head beside him with a complex look.

“Mercy is never a virtue to be applied by those in power. Now that you have become the victor, it is time to behead the enemy commander and stand completely on your own.”

It didn’t feel like he was talking about his own life.

Burka’s words made Yusuf suddenly think.

‘So that’s what it was.’

To coldly assess, no matter how outstanding Burka was, he could not eternally suppress Yusuf.

Burka, who was inferior in terms of justification and status to Yusuf, would only have his end determined in due time.

Burka, being who he was, couldn’t have been unaware of that, and there was only one thing he could expect.

“Was Selim worth that much loyalty?” Yusuf asked.

Burka, who had slightly widened his eyes at Yusuf’s question, said in a self-deprecating voice.

“Now that it has come to this, I honestly don’t know. Still, when I saw him, he seemed like someone who would rise to the highest place more than anyone else.”

Well, he actually became the Sultan, so you could say his eye was accurate.

Hearing the evaluation of Selim made him suddenly curious.

“Then how do you see me?”

“…If you had been born ten years earlier, you would have become the master of the empire.”

Ten years, huh?

Just that much difference? Yusuf chuckled and shook off his remaining attachment to Burka.

Forcing him any further would be a disservice to an enemy who deserved an honorable end.

“Is there anything you want to ask for as a last request?”

“…If possible, I would like to entrust my end to my subordinate, Arda.”

“Burka-nim!!!”

Burka’s right-hand man, Arda, shouted loudly.

He shook his head as if he couldn’t possibly do it, and a stern voice echoed towards Arda.

“Arda, didn’t you say you would be by my side at my end? It’s time to keep your promise.”

At Burka’s words, Arda approached with a terribly distorted face.

He knew what it meant.

It meant ending his relationship with him by killing him directly, and it also meant asking Yusuf to accept them now.

Knowing this heart made it even harder to move.

Burka said to Arda, who was hesitating with his sword.

“Kahit must be waiting. I’ll go ahead, so you stay by the Prince’s side and see the end.”

“…Thank you for everything.”

The sword Arda thrust pierced through his heart and back, and Burka slowly laid down on the floor, which was turning red.

He was the one who called him Prince until the very end, not Sanjakbey [governor of a district].

Yusuf, who had been silently watching Burka die with a faint smile on his face, shouted loudly.

“I will issue an order!!”

At Yusuf’s cry, those who had been with Burka until the end knelt on one knee.

Arda, soaked in Burka’s blood, bowed his head and replied.

“Order us.”

“From now on, the past will be overlooked! From now on, no acts of discord will be tolerated! And…”

Yusuf looked down at the two men.

“Bury Burka Sobashi and his son Kahit in a good place.”

“We obey your command!!”

The voices shouting in unison echoed throughout the castle.

It was the end of the long internal affair.

***

1499, which had plunged Trabzon into terrible chaos, passed, and the new year arrived.

Following Yusuf’s call, Kadis [judges] and Sobashis [police chiefs] from the 13 kazas [administrative districts] gathered.

Gathered again in the banquet hall where they had first met Yusuf, they couldn’t easily open their mouths, unlike the first time.

In less than half a year, the master of the Trabzon Sanjak had made it known throughout the land that he was not just a mere 11-year-old child.

He had won the hearts of the Sipahis with support policies that no one had thought of, and he had boldly reached out to the inheritance part and grabbed the leash.

The method was clever, and the momentum was overbearing.

Now, no one could think of him as a young prince.

The door of the banquet hall, wrapped in heavy silence, opened, and Yusuf, who had grown physically and mentally in half a year, entered.

Watching Yusuf, who still had a weak but natural air of a ruler, the 13 Kadis and 13 Sobashis bowed their heads towards Yusuf.

“We greet the Sanjakbey-nim.”

Yusuf walked with a confident stride between those who bowed their heads and ascended to the head seat, slowly looking around the banquet hall.

Except for Arda standing in place of Burka, no one had changed.

Same people, same structure, but their attitude was completely different.

No one questioned his rule.

“Everyone, raise your heads.”

At this word, they all raised their heads, and Yusuf welcomed them.

“It’s good to see you all again like this. I look forward to working with you in the future.”

“We will faithfully assist you.”

With their response, a semi-transparent window appeared.

[Clear Trabzon Sanjakbey, score +5]

Receiving the score made it feel real.

That he had become the undisputed master of this place.

‘On top of that, I have enough points to get the second trait.’

Finally, he could look a little further.

***

“Burka is dead? That Burka?”

Selim frowned as he read the letter sent by the spy.

Burka, whom he had watched for a long time, was not someone who would make clumsy mistakes, and he was even less likely to be pushed back in such a short time.

If this result was due to the skill of his young brother….

“Should I have killed him back then, even if it meant overdoing it?”

Even if he didn’t kill him, he thought that Burka would remain and hold him back for at least five years.

He regretted that things had turned out this way.

“It’s too late to regret it now that Burka is dead.”

With the obstacle gone, he would have fully gained control of the Sanjak.

There was no one who would pledge allegiance to him like the dead Burka, and there was no way to attempt an assassination.

If Burka had survived, he would have tried to use him.

“Foolish bastard, to choose death.”

He had given up his life and the life of his beloved son for the sake of his remaining family and subordinates, but Selim simply dismissed him as foolish.

That was all the emotion he had left for a failure who couldn’t even do one easy thing to hold him back.

Selim crumpled the letter, which contained a poignant account of how much Burka had strived and how he had met his death after loyalty, and tapped the table with his hand.

“Anyway, there’s no need to worry about the young brother. All he can do is rot at the end and wait for the day he dies.”

He knew that fact better than anyone else.

Even without the young brother, there were six more brothers competing with him.

He could kill them as much as he wanted once he became the Sultan, so the important thing was to overcome the remaining six.

Compared to Trabzon, he was much closer to the capital, but he was still far away compared to the other brothers.

There was only one way to overcome this difference.

“I need support… Is the Crimean Khanate the only option?”

It was impossible when he was in Trabzon, where the chances of succession were slim, but now that he had escaped, it was worth trying.

History began to twist.