Chapter 99
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Translator: MadScientist
Chapter: 99
Chapter Title: The Little Prince (5)
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The factory owner, Hengton, sought to implement just a few changes.
Guaranteed break times during work hours, two days off per week.
And a break room stocked with snacks and drinks.
Just three things, but they were radical changes—unprecedented welfare.
Up until now, hardly any factories offered this level of benefits.
Excluding those managed by Edn, there were only a handful.
And even those only adopted one or two, never all three.
They simply copied the originators.
But the costs were steep, so some only partially followed suit or skipped it altogether.
That was how vague the very concept of welfare remained in this era.
Yet Hengton, inspired by The Little Prince, was different.
For a man who always went all-in once he decided on something, half-measures like one or two changes wouldn't cut it.
So he resolved to try all three at once.
"Looks like we have the data. The conditions of the factories managed by Edn Rerangbur."
He had decided on the welfare measures, but he wasn't fool enough to roll them out blindly.
Decisions had to be swift and resolute, but never without solid intel.
After poring over the information his secretary had diligently gathered, he nodded.
"A pilot run looks promising."
And so, break rooms and guaranteed rest periods rolled out in select sections.
The workers were baffled at first, naturally.
Has the boss finally lost his mind?
Or did he take a blow to the head?
Rumors flew.
On the surface, it was billed as a new policy trial, but hardly anyone bought it.
Except for one person who did.
"No way he actually read The Little Prince, right?"
By sheer coincidence, one of the pilot sections was where Bern worked.
Bern was chugging a glass of water in the brand-new break room.
Munching on the complimentary snacks while sprawled comfortably on the sofa.
"Just a hunch, but it's suspicious."
Crunch. Chewing a cookie, he pictured The Little Prince.
Maybe because he'd read it himself, but Bern pegged the odds as pretty high.
Still, it was just speculation—he had no plans to verify.
Couldn't exactly storm the boss's office and demand if he'd cracked open The Little Prince.
"Honestly, I don't care that much anyway."
What mattered was that the workers' conditions were improving. He was content.
Bern polished off his cookie and stood.
Time to head back to work.
One last swig of water, and he left the break room.
Glancing back, he saw no one else there.
The others were probably still grinding away.
"They set up rest breaks and still nobody comes."
Even changed environments won't stick if people don't.
Bern shook his head and returned to his station.
Meanwhile, factory owner Hengton was getting a report from the pilot sections.
"Efficiency's up?"
"Yes. Better focus means fewer errors, lower defect rates."
It had been a week since the welfare rollout.
Hengton could feel deep down that he'd made the right call.
One report wasn't enough to judge everything, though.
It was only a week, after all.
But the instincts that had guided him before were signaling success.
Hengton trusted those instincts.
About a week later, he expanded the welfare to every section—every one of his factories.
And production soared to new heights.
"Haha, excellent! Perfect!"
As Hengton's factories transformed, others began to follow suit.
The reason? Hengton himself.
He'd fretted over profits, but his operations were substantial.
With multiple contracts in play, rival factories had been watching closely.
Now this powerhouse was rolling out welfare across the board.
The news spread like wildfire through dry grass.
"Heard about Hengton's factory?"
"Yeah, we tried a bit ourselves after that."
In gatherings of businessmen and factory owners, Hengton's name dominated the chatter.
Two men clinked glasses mid-conversation.
"Well, I went all-in across every factory."
"Oh? How's it going?"
The other leaned in, ears perked.
He dropped his voice like it was top secret.
"Profits dipped early on. But now it's trending up. And no constant staff turnover. Efficiency through the roof."
"For real?"
The man's eyes lit up with interest.
He nodded firmly, no hesitation.
"Absolutely. Think I'd lie to you? Buddies for years."
"Heh, sorry. You know how we are—can't trust easy."
They were the type to doubt everyone, always scheming for their own gain.
Uncharacteristic for them to act on hearsay alone.
He knew it well, being a factory owner himself.
So he just nodded, no more words needed.
"I get it. Not pushing. Just a recommendation."
"I'll think it over. Cheers—been too long since we drank proper."
They raised their glasses again.
Lives so hectic they'd barely touched booze lately—today was payback.
Thus, the two businessmen savored a rare moment of ease.
Edn's novel The Little Prince stirred all sorts of ripples.
A small comfort to workers.
A reminder of human hearts for businessmen.
It touched many others too.
But the group it transformed most profoundly? The nobles.
Setting aside commoners and factory owners, nobles outnumbered the rest by far.
Practically, it was just them left.
They gathered in one place, books in hand, sharing their takes on The Little Prince.
Their first fascination: the Little Prince himself.
"What do you reckon this means?"
"Hm, check this line."
One noble pointed to a passage.
His finger rested on the Little Prince's words:
'Grown-ups are really so very strange.'
The noble shrugged as if unearthing some grand truth.
"The Little Prince isn't merely critiquing adults. He's voicing the obvious as if it's not—prompting us to question what we deem self-evident."
But a countervoice rose.
A count shook his head, clucking his tongue.
"Nonsense! It's about purity untouched by learning. The Little Prince embodies a child's innocence. Not a call to doubt the obvious."
The two locked glares, unyielding in their stances.
Then another noble stepped in to mediate.
"I say both views hold water. The child's purity, and skepticism toward what we've long accepted as adults. Isn't that right, everyone?"
He scanned the room.
Gazes met, brief murmurs exchanged.
Soon, nods of agreement rippled through.
A few held back—disinterest or rival theories, likely.
No open challenges, though, so he smiled faintly.
"Seems we're aligned. Onward."
After the Little Prince himself, a topic bound to hook them emerged.
"Here we go. The Lonely King."
"Lonely King? That's your label, eh?"
Discussion turned to the king on the Little Prince's first planet.
With their own king—or emperor—they were naturally intrigued.
One noble piped up loudly.
"I call him the Lonely King. A king needs subjects, folk to obey his commands. Yet before the Little Prince arrived, he had none."
He saw loneliness: no people, no obeyers.
The king commanding stars? Utter folly to him.
Had he been there, he'd have urged ditching the delusions.
Another noble pushed back.
"I see it differently—he ruled admirably. Subjects rarely voice obedience, do they? Commoners heed the king without revolt, no?"
This one declared the king far from lonely, a model ruler.
The nobles deemed both takes valid.
Yet something felt off, incomplete—no full allegiance to either.
Then one rose to his feet.
"The king of the first star is a fool. How does one who calls himself king speak of dominion... yet hold none?"
"What... do you mean?"
The nobles stared, baffled.
The man spoke as if reciting plain fact.
"Stars neither rule nor are ruled. They simply are. No king can dominion a stone. Shift it aside, sure—but dominion? Preposterous."
Thus, no dominion over stars.
Power, however, he possessed.
"The Little Prince proves it."
All marveled, nodding in unison.
It slotted perfectly into the gap.
They merged the views: a lonely, foolish king who nonetheless knew true rule.
Pages kept turning.
The vain man, the businessman, the drunkard, the fox, and more.
They dissected each, rendering their own verdicts.
At last, the final page shut. Time for the overall take.
"The Little Prince is about bonds. But full immersion eludes us."
"True. Our lives are endless chains of relations."
All nodded at the count's words, murmuring assent.
He gazed at the book, then addressed the group.
"Fine characters make it well-crafted, yes. Yet it jars with our sensibilities."
"Exactly! Borrows knightly lit tricks, but still a stretch."
The rose-Little Prince bond.
The fox-Little Prince bond.
The extravagance of star-hopping.
These drew nobles in.
Other bits disrupted, though.
The Little Prince deeming adults strange? A jab at noble authority.
The irreverent king talk grated.
And woven in were commoner struggles nobles could scarce relate to.
Nobles, after all, sat enthroned like kings.
"Thus, The Little Prince merits a read or two. Thoughts?"
"Agreed."
"Spot-on!"
With that, the nobles wrapped their debate on The Little Prince.