Chapter 96
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Translator: MadScientist
Chapter: 96
Chapter Title: The Little Prince (2)
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About a week had passed since The Little Prince was published.
Many people were clamoring for the book, and far from dying down, the excitement was only growing, stirring up a massive response.
But the dynamic was different this time.
Before, it had caught on first among the nobles, then spread to the commoners.
That was because all the books released so far had resonated more deeply with the nobility.
Just take Don Quixote—it featured knights, which were practically the nobles' exclusive domain.
Sure, it was knightly literature satirizing the aristocracy, but it still hit closer to home for them than for commoners.
Besides, even though Edn priced them affordably, books remained a heavy burden for the average commoner.
This time, though, things were different.
It exploded in popularity among the commoners even more than among the nobles.
Step out onto any street, and you'd see commoners fighting tooth and nail to buy copies, outpacing the nobles.
The reason? Ironically, it was the factories I'd created.
"This, I didn't see coming."
Somehow, the serfs were getting a taste of modernity.
They'd been working comfortably under their lords before, but now they were flocking to the cities.
Naturally, competition heated up.
Work conditions worsened.
Factory owners started exploiting them for cheap labor.
And they were running nonstop, without even holidays.
"Ehey, that's no good."
But there wasn't much I could say about it.
If I wanted to do something, I'd have to dive headfirst into politics.
Problem was, I had no power base—and even if I did...
"Crawling into that filth is out of the question."
I had zero interest in wading through that muddy swamp.
Anyway, sales were skyrocketing as a result.
Of course, what mattered most to me right now was Katiranya.
This book was meant to satisfy her, after all.
I watched her, who'd somehow gotten hold of a copy and was reading it.
The book wasn't long, so I was on pins and needles, hoping she'd be satisfied.
"Hoo, taming, is it?"
Her voice carried a note of amusement.
She wasn't getting any weird ideas, was she?
About ten minutes later, she finally closed the book.
She looked at me with a smile.
She liked it, right? Right?
"It's quite short."
"Ahem, it couldn't be helped."
"Well, it's fine. More than that, you wrote this one like a fairy tale. But the content... it sounds like what children say to adults."
An interesting take.
It was definitely a story about adults, seen through children's eyes.
There were plenty of other ways to interpret it, but I decided not to overthink it.
"Still, there was something I couldn't quite understand."
"What was it?"
"The king. Honestly, from my view, he wasn't a king at all. A king isn't someone who just waits."
Not someone who waits?
What did that mean?
I asked for an explanation, and she nodded readily.
"A king has to charge ahead and speak directly. Sitting there barking orders? That's no king."
"Uh, isn't a king supposed to rule?"
"Edn. That only fixes a fraction of the problems. A true king needs to know his people firsthand."
Oh. Got it.
Learned something new today.
Then again, the speaker was a vampire, not a human.
Progenitor or not, I'd never even seen any vampires under her.
So I eyed her skeptically.
"But Katiranya, you're not a king, are you?"
"What nonsense? I am the vampires'—"
"So, does that kingdom even exist anymore?"
"...Hah, you sure know how to talk."
Ah, stepped on a landmine.
Katiranya crossed her arms, her brows knitting together.
She seemed upset, so I scrambled to change the subject.
"Ahem! Anyway, it means you liked it."
"Sigh. Yes. My boundless mercy shall forgive you. Well, it's not like the kingdom's completely gone."
What was that?
She'd muttered the last part so quietly, I didn't catch it.
But I lacked the guts to ask her right then.
I just nodded, glad she was satisfied.
"Then I'll be going."
"Wait, before you leave."
It was dinnertime, and I'd turned to make my escape.
But Katiranya called out from behind me.
Reluctantly, I turned back to face her.
I gave her a puzzled look, then heard something I really shouldn't have.
"The Little Prince is good enough. But I'd be lying if I said it didn't leave me wanting more."
"Pardon?"
"So I'll look forward to your next novel."
Aha. Time to bolt.
Instead of replying, I fled out the door.
I'd clearly made it outside, so why was Katiranya's laughter echoing from behind?
"What else could it be? Just my imagination."
I shook my head hard, chalking it up to a hallucination.
Pretending nothing happened, I headed off to dinner.
Today kicked off like another spin on the hamster wheel.
A few months had passed since the factory went up.
Even those who'd struggled to adjust at first had settled in.
Of course, some things still grated—no rest, endless grind under a ruthless boss.
"Ugh, damn it all."
Ten hours a day for peanuts.
More pay than farming, but way tougher.
Farming was hard, sure—but you could take breaks when you wanted, and some crops were easier.
Not the factory.
Breaks were short, and until you adapted, it was brutal.
Even after adapting, it stayed grueling; nothing was truly easy.
Technology advanced, yet people suffered more. He couldn't wrap his head around it.
And the worst part? Something else entirely.
"Repetitive tasks."
Workers stood rooted in place, repeating the same motions over and over.
Looked simple at first—but it was torture, enough to drive you mad.
They even said they'd take plowing under a clear sky any day.
"But it's not that easy in practice."
He'd already sold off everything needed for farming.
Even if he went back, no land base meant no farm.
The owner of his rented plot had threatened him never to return.
Finding a new one? That'd take forever.
"Plus, they say there's this new thing called a tractor lately."
So here he was, stuck at the factory for all those reasons.
No doubt the other workers were in the same boat.
His buddy right next to him was no exception.
"You showed up today too, Bern."
"Selton. You're here too."
Bern smirked and clapped Selton on the shoulder.
Selton winced dramatically, then sighed.
"Phew, what a hellhole this factory is. Not even one day off?"
"Tell me about it. Heard some places give two days."
Pie in the sky.
They dragged themselves in daily without rest, yet other factories had holidays?
"What can ya do? Not here."
"Yeah. Oh, hey—did you hear?"
Bern shot Selton a quizzical look.
Selton lowered his voice like he was spilling ancient treasure secrets.
"A new book dropped. The Little Prince."
"The Little Prince? What's that?"
"Author you'd know. Prometheus."
Bern knew the name.
Too busy and books too pricey—he'd only read Don Quixote.
Still, the guy's fame preceded him.
A new release? Might be worth a read.
As he mulled it, Selton let out a small sigh.
"But it's so popular, damn near impossible to find."
"That bad? How tough?"
"You wanna buy one? Forget it. No chance."
Can't get it? What was he on about?
Bern stared, baffled, but Selton wouldn't budge.
Realizing talk was futile, he switched topics.
From there, it was everyday gripes: the boss was scum, gonna grab meat after shift, etc.
They reached the factory soon enough and split to their stations.
"Phew. Another cursed day ahead."
They slaved away till quitting time, moving like zombies under a necromancer's thrall.
"Ughhh..."
Bern stumbled out half-dead, not waiting for Selton.
They never waited anyway—no one griped about who left first.
He trudged home slowly through the streets.
Parts were deserted, others teeming with workers heading back.
But they all stared blankly at the ground as they shuffled along.
Bern was one of them.
Dragging his feet, he suddenly recalled his morning chat with his friend.
"The Little Prince, huh...?"
Body aching, he barely lifted his head toward the bookstore.
"Huh?"
Incredibly, a single copy of The Little Prince remained!
Bern rubbed his eyes in disbelief.
A famous author's book—how was it still there?
As if entranced, he wandered in and picked it up.
Lighter than expected; then he noticed the thin pages.
"Just a short story?"
He browsed a bit, then set it on the counter.
The owner, nose in a newspaper, glanced over and quoted two silver coins.
"Pardon? That cheap?"
Even slim books usually cost more.
Puzzled, he got a sigh from the owner.
"Not cheap—special discount. If you're not buying..."
"No, I will."
Luckily, he had exactly two silvers in his pocket.
Paid up, tucked the book safely away, and headed home, steps a bit lighter.
"Gonna read it before bed."
His mood had brightened just a touch.