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King of Great Britain

The history of medieval England is tumultuous and grand, from the Norman Conquest to the Magna Carta, with modern civilization gradually taking root on England's green pastures. Jeff, a modern-day office worker, is well-versed in the history of various countries around the world, yet has no practical use for his knowledge. Until one day, he is transported to medieval England and becomes a prince. Just as he is about to make his mark and realize his ambitions, he is stunned by someone calling out, "John." John... King John, the "Lackland"! He has actually transmigrated into one of the most infamous kings in medieval history!

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97 Chs

Chapter 61: Dublin's New City

On this map, the new Dublin had three centers. Foremost was the Duke of Lennister's palace, undisputedly the center of power and thus a focal point of the city. Secondly, there was Dublin Cathedral, the largest church in all of Ireland, and the residence of the Archbishop of Dublin.

The third center, however, took the clerics by surprise.

A circular building stood prominently in the square, starkly contrasting with the previous two.

"This isn't some debauched place; it will be the future cultural center," John said. "Great playwrights, musicians, and talented actors will have a place to showcase their abilities."

"In the future, countless literary figures and artists will flock here. This place will offer the highest art to God and present the most captivating stories to all."

The clerics nodded outwardly, but inwardly harbored doubts about John's assertions. In their minds, theater was forever associated with frivolity and sensuality.

But John was oblivious to their thoughts.

Pointing at the map, he said, "We need to focus now on the city's sanitation issues. We can't let the streets smell like this any longer."

Indeed, as one of Ireland's premier cities, Dublin faced severe urban hygiene problems. Such issues weren't unique to Dublin; nearly every city in Europe was similarly afflicted, none better than the other.

Sewage flowed freely, excrement littered the streets, and various livestock mingled with citizens, the stench palpable even outside the city walls.

John couldn't stand such conditions.

He wasn't a medieval ruffian; his soul harbored a modern sensibility.

"Your Highness, you must consider one thing," Guy, who had come all the way from Preston Abbey, said. "Maintaining these facilities requires manpower. Where will this manpower come from?"

John lightly tapped the table. "Recruit refugees, employ child labor—these are viable options. Besides, this is a matter for bureaucrats to ponder, not me. If I solve all the problems, what need do these officials have to eat off my plate?"

Guy explained, "I just wanted to remind you, Your Highness. If your proposed solutions don't have appropriate answers, subordinates may resort to some unorthodox measures."

The earnestness of this fellow irritated John.

At least in John's mind, he had everything calculated; there would be no such insurmountable issues.

"Moreover, with so many directions to pursue and the expenses required for frontline warfare, do we truly have sufficient funds?" Guy's questions came one after another.

John impatiently replied, "All of this is accounted for in my plans. I've already informed Sylvio about the engineering budget."

After confirming all the affairs, Guy finally closed his mouth satisfied. It had to be said, these clerics, though annoying, were more dependable in getting things done compared to the nobles who only knew how to talk big.

"Your Highness, we might need to bring our stone from elsewhere," Stephen, the priest recruited from the banks of the Loire River, said. "We have to wait until all these construction materials arrive before we can start rebuilding the new city walls. But by then, it might already be autumn, and we may not have enough laborers available."

"Then let's see if we can hire a few more, or perhaps put those prisoners of war to work," John proposed as a solution. "And besides, there's no need to rush the project; we can start by renovating the square first."

Stephen nodded, "If that's the case, we can probably start renovating the city square next month."

"Where do you plan to store the construction materials?" John started worrying about this issue again.

John's question puzzled Stephen a bit, "As usual, we just find a centralized vacant area and pile them up there."

Piling them up in a vacant area...

Such a crude solution was indeed very medieval.

"What if the construction materials get stolen?" John said. "I don't want delays in the project due to such issues. Can't we come up with a solution, like setting up a designated area specifically for storing these materials?"

Stephen didn't oppose John's suggestion, "Of course we can, but it will definitely increase costs significantly, and we don't have enough manpower to manage it."

"Then I'll have my soldiers and procurement officers handle this matter," John replied.

"If we really do that, we'll have an additional daily expense, I estimate...," Sylvio opened the ledger and counted, "it could require an extra forty to eighty pennies."

This figure left John speechless, "That much?"

Sylvio nodded, adding, "And it would require expanding the size of the bureaucratic team. In that case, I can't guarantee there won't be corruption."

Such alarming talk caused John to wave his hand and veto his own plan.

Seeing John's agreement, Sylvio breathed a sigh of relief. His agreement wasn't because of the nonsense reasons he had stated earlier; rather, he simply didn't want to add more work to his plate. If he had said that aloud, John would undoubtedly have urged him to overcome it.

Running his fingers through his increasingly sparse hair, Sylvio realized he still had two months before turning forty, yet he felt as worn out as those fifty-year-old men.

"Um, so about these streets, let's discuss these streets," John redirected the conversation. "There are too many streets; I can't possibly fund them all out of my own pocket."

The clerics present all tensed up at John's words, shocked by what he suggested. It was his own plan, so why was he trying to dip into other people's wallets?

"We can trick some immigrants into becoming unpaid laborers and use that to trade for citizenship. As for the money, the city council, the church, and the nobles, I think they can all chip in," John continued, rubbing his hands together with satisfaction.

But those clerics, especially those from France, were uneasy. The prince's calculations were ringing too loudly.

"But I've noticed there are too few churches and monasteries in Ireland, which makes the people here not very devout," John said firmly. "After I build these, I'll need each of you to oversee them."

Upon hearing this, the clerics all fell silent, no longer voicing any objections. The opportunity for promotion was right before them, and none of them wanted to lose it over a hasty remark.

With that, the atmosphere of the meeting became cheerful. The details of the project were gradually hammered out, and after John confirmed each aspect of the plan multiple times, he left satisfied.

Now, the only thing on his mind was how to enjoy a good life for himself.