Chapter 2
An office in the Royal Castle. While looking through documents, I—Third Prince Leonhart—leaned back deep into my chair. (That’s it for today’s work. I’m leaving the castle on time. Well, I haven’t done much work since the afternoon anyway.) Just then, a modest knock sounded. “Your Highness, do you have a moment?” The one who entered was my direct subordinate, the civil official Marc. He is a capable man who doesn’t say useless things. In other words—it is highly likely he has brought a troublesome matter. “Keep it brief.” “Yes. …I have a consultation regarding a matter in another department.” I frowned. “Another department? That is not my jurisdiction.” “That is correct. However, the ones in trouble are the Logistics Management Bureau.” Logistics. Supplies, food, equipment. The key department supporting the country. “What is happening?” “The warehouse ledgers and the actual inventory don’t match. The discrepancy is small, but they say it happens every single month.” (Ah… I have nothing but a bad feeling about this.) Memories of my previous life as a corporate wage slave revived. (This isn’t an error. It’s institutionalized slacking off, or it’s fraud.) “Did they report it to the top?” “They apparently told the Bureau Chief, but he brushed it off saying ‘I’m busy’ or ‘It’s been like this for a long time’.” I let out a light sigh. “…Understood. I’ll go.” Marc opened his eyes wide. “You yourself, Your Highness? Now?” “That is exactly why.” I announced as I picked up my cloak. “I won’t push myself. However, I won’t overlook waste, fraud, and slacking off.”
Minimal intervention. I only did three things. First. An unannounced inspection of the Logistics Management Bureau warehouse. Second. Gather the bookkeeper, cashier, and warehouse keeper in the same room. Third. Cross-reference the ledger and inventory, and make them write down the process where the discrepancy occurs. “Your Highness, this is…” Facing the staff members breaking out in a sweat, I spoke matter-of-factly. “Relax. I have no intention of punishing everyone.” The atmosphere loosened slightly. “However.” I lowered my voice. “‘I’ll put it off because I’m busy,’ ‘I won’t check something this minor’—those who are exploiting such naivety are a different story.” One man lowered his gaze. (Okay, verification complete.) Result. The one committing fraud was one of the warehouse keepers. Taking advantage of the small discrepancies, he was siphoning off supplies little by little. The punishment was immediate. For the other staff, in exchange for reducing the recording process by two steps, I made daily checks mandatory. “I’ll make the work easier. In exchange, fudging the numbers won’t work at all.” No one objected. Work should be minimal. When I returned to the office, Marc bowed his head deeply. “Thank you very much. The people at the Logistics Management Bureau also said they were saved.” “I didn’t save them.” I sat in my chair and took a sip of my drink. “I just cut out the waste and fraud. I just returned things to normal.” “That is the most difficult part, though…” I shrugged my shoulders. “Wrong. They just aren’t trying to do it. Minimum work, maximum responsibility. That’s all.”
Quitting time. I left the castle promptly.
Today, too, ended peacefully. …At least, for me.
