Veronica returned home from the assembly quickly, trying to avoid contact with any people.

After being fired just the previous day from her position as secretary of the orphanage, she was now living in a new home which she had prepared in the case that something like this would happen.

She would no longer be living in the orphanage, by the side of the headmaster, and to this she was actually somewhat relieved.

While living within the orphanage, and working from the inside did have it's benefits, it was also constraining. She had no freedom to do as she wanted, and had to be kept under the strict watch of the headmaster at most times. She was also expected to perform duties as the secretary, and thus had little time to actually make any progress in hindering the headmaster's schemes.

However, now that she was on her own, she could put more focus on plotting against her.

But just what would she do?

She could try to hire mercenaries to expose the headmaster's schemes, however even if they were exposed- would the people of the village actually do anything against it now that they know that their taxes are being reduced because of it?

Likely not.

The people would sit back and allow the children to be abused, so long as it benefited them.

She had to either get a higher power involved, or find some other way.

Veronica decided to leave the matter alone for now. She needed to focus on her own situation, and continue forming contacts and gathering supporters before she could do anything else. Making a move right now was simply too risky after having her first plan be exposed.

This wasn't something she could do overnight. If the Senator had indeed responded well to her letter, then perhaps that would be the case. However, this did not happen. Instead, a worst case scenario came about, only strengthening the defenses of her opponent.

Veronica made her way through the streets, and approached her new home.

It was a small shack, however it was well made and fit for a woman of business class.

On entering, she went through the small kitchen, up a stairway and into her bedroom where her desk was- with a load of papers.

She grabbed the pen, and began scribbling down ideas, calculating and planning, while at the same time doing other work little by little.

She would not lose.

In the game of manipulation, she would find a solution, and checkmate her opponent.

She was confident of this.

The only thing left, was to find that solution. To search for the missing piece, and use it to checkmate her opponent.

----

Mrs. Fera headed back to the orphanage after a successful ceremony.

She had secured her position, and locked down her business as necessary in the eyes of the people.

There was nobody in the town- not even that impudent little secretary who she got rid of who would be able to go against her now.

Even if they wanted to, one couldn't go against an entire village of supporters.

Not one person.

There was no chance.

With the Senator at her back, she would be able to continue producing the equipment, and profiting from the business.

She claimed that she would donate 45% of her profits when she made the deal with the senator, but that was not actually her intention.

45% was a ludicrous business tax- one that she would never so easily accept, even if her business was illegal, and it was to secure a legal standing.

She would of course lie about her profits, and thus only pay 45% of the profits which she claimed to be making.

This held the risk of being found out, however unless the government put her under strict inspection, they would never figure this out on their own- and since a part of their deal was that she would not undergo inspection, there was little risk here.

The only way one would be able to deduce the profits she made would be to first determine the market price of all items she produced and sold, then determine the cost of the materials and labor, and finally keep a close eye on her sales, in order to figure out total profits. Unless they kept a close eye on almost every factor, they would not be able to estimate her profits so easily, and as such she could rest easy knowing that her lies would not be found out.

Mrs. Fera had only been the head of the orphanage for around a few months, but she had completely transformed everything about it, and now she was essentially in the clear to begin sales.

As she headed back to the orphanage, she smiled to herself, imagining all the profits she would reap.

'Just what should I do with the money earned from the first batch of equipment? Perhaps I should construct my own home, separated from that rat shack of an orphanage? Yes... I think I will do that. And now that the little snitch is gone, I have no worries at all about being watched. Perfect.'

Mrs. Fera walked through the town with a friendly smile on her face, while thinking these devious thoughts. Many people waved to her energetically.

"Mrs. Fera!! Thank you so much for everything you've done for this town and it's people!"

"We are in your debt!"

"Truly, thank you! I didn't know how I was going to make ends meet until I got this tax break!"

"You are a hero, Mrs. Fera!"

Mrs. Fera smiled and waved to the people, who loved her.

'This is how it should be. The few should suffer greatly, so that the many can prosper. It is better for a small group to undergo extreme suffering than for the entire group to undergo mild suffering after all. Of course. This is obvious. Anyone who cannot realize this is nothing more than a simpleton. Of course, I should be at the top as the generous lady who took these views, and turned them into a reality. Just look at how happy all the people are! I am nothing less than their savior.'

After making her way through the town, and receiving the gratitude of many of the villagers, who were either ignorant of the situation or simply ignored it for their own benefit, she finally reached the outer edge of the town, from which she could see the orphanage and the warehouse.

'Ah, now what to do.... should I go and rest myself, or should I ensure that the children are doing their jobs properly? Hmm.... decisions decisions.... I suppose it would be best to ensure that the children are working hard. Yes, how diligent I am! I, as a diligent person, will go and check on them. Instead of lounging about, I will take the effort to ensure that production is not being staggered as a result of my absence.'

Mrs. Fera's face became rotten as if she smelled something disturbing as she had this next thought.

'But if the children have been slacking off due to my absence.... well, this is not something that can be allowed to happen. If that is the case, then I will have to punish them personally. Slacking off on their important tasks is one thing, however to do so because I am away is an even greater offense. If those children believe that they are allowed to do as they please just because I am gone, then I will have to make it clear that they have done something greatly wrong. Integrity is an important quality after all. The ability to do what is right, even when nobody is looking- even when there will be no consequences for doing what is wrong, and even when there is no personal benefit to doing what is right. If these children lack integrity, then I would say that they fail not only as laborers, but as human beings. And if they fail as human beings, then surely they don't deserve human rights.'

A case of literary theft: this tale is not rightfully on Amazon; if you see it, report the violation.

Mrs. Fera walked past the orphanage, and headed straight to the orphanage, not even taking a moment to look back. She wanted to storm into the warehouse to catch the children by surprise. If they were working diligently, then of course there would be nothing wrong, however if they caught onto her arrival and got to work, then she wouldn't be able to know whether or not they were truly working all day.

She had to catch them with their guard down.

Opening the door of the warehouse, she stormed in.

She felt the heat of the furnaces on her face as she entered, and saw the lines of children hammering away at the equipment, pouring the molten metal into molds, cooling it in water bins, and storing the equipment on the shelves.

Everything seemed to be completely acceptable by Mrs. Fera's standards.

Looking over to the equipment shelves, she took note that there were significantly more pieces of equipment than had been there this morning.

This meant that the children had been hard at work all day, and had results to show for it.

Essentially, there was absolutely no reason for Mrs. Fera to hold her suspicions on the children. As a matter of fact, such diligence and integrity even merited a reward, however she would do no such thing.

Mrs. Fera was not a believer in positive reinforcement.

Positive reinforcement is the psychological term for when one gives a reward to those who do the right thing, in order to motivate everyone to do the right thing.

However, there was a single issue with positive reinforcement.

It cost either money, time or labor.

If she were to purchase rewards, then it would cost money. If she were to give children who worked hard time off to relax, then it would cost labor, and less products would be produced.

On the other hand, Mrs. Fera was a great believer in negative reinforcement.

Negative reinforcement is the psychological term for when punishments are used to discourage bad behaviors.

This type of reinforcement was completely cost free, and was just as effective- no, perhaps it was even more effective that positive reinforcement. Of course, she had never tested this, but given the productivity of the children in front of her, it had to be the case.

Mrs. Fera walked through the blazing workshop, careful to stay far away from the dangerous workstations, and she made her way over to the shelves where many extremely skinny young children were carrying the heavy equipment- with great difficulty, and trying to place it in their designated locations.

Mrs. Fera simply began to count up the equipment, and discovered that from the beginning of the day, 10 spears, 10 swords, and 10 full sets of armor had been produced.

The quota for the children on any given day was 20 full sets of equipment- namely, 20 weapons and 20 full sets of armor. This meant that they had 10 sets of armor remaining to produce.

It was already 6 PM, but that didn't matter. There were still 6 hours left in the day, after all. Even if they were unable to finish by today, she could simply have them work past midnight, and they would simply lose sleep as a result of their inability to meet requirements.

They would have nobody to blame but themselves. If they wanted something like sleep, they would need to become skilled enough to produce the quota's quickly.

Mrs. Fera walked out of the building quickly and quietly. Many children seemed to tense up as she walked past them, similar to how a worker would get nervous when they were under inspection of their boss. She gave glares to anyone who seemed to be working slowly.

"Hurry it up there. You'll never be finished at this rate."

"Yes ma'am!"

She continued walking through, to see a young child- probably only about 4 years old, struggling to carry a sword over to the storage area.

"If you're too weak to even carry that small thing, then you will never get a meal. Better hurry up and build those muscles."

"Y-yes ma'am...", the child said, defeated.

Mrs. Fera had established a wonderful system which ensured that the children were always trying to be productive, while reducing her costs at the same time.

Only the 6 children who did the best on each given day would receive meals. Out of 30.

There was one child who was 14 years old- a male, who had become highly skilled at the smithing craft, and so in doing so he had gained her trust, and a spot where he was sure to be allowed to eat at the end of the day.

He was the one who was to take note of the contributions of each of the other 29 children, and determine who had worked the hardest and produced the most on a given day if Mrs. Fera was not there to supervise herself, such as today.

Most of the time however, she was the one who decided which ones got to eat. She didn't trust any of the children to make a good judgement on productivity anyways.

It was likely that the children chosen would be the ones who were in need the most on the days Mrs. Fera was not there, but she couldn't have that. After all, if the ones who didn't produce much were given food to eat, it would be the same as rewarding them without reason, and punishing the others who had done more work. Therefore, she tried to supervise the children herself on most days, however once in a while, such as today, she would need to go somewhere urgently. There was nothing she could do about it, so she entrusted the decision to the child.

Among the children who were able to eat on a given day, they had to make their own food out of the flour and water stored in the kitchen, and cook themselves. If they didn't know how to cook, then they would either learn or starve. As a result, most of the older children knew at least how to cook bread.

Mrs. Fera kept a tight leash on the ones who were allowed to eat, to limit their portions and make sure they weren't sharing with one another. After all, she couldn't reward those who didn't work well with food that they didn't deserve. This would only encourage laziness and decreased production.

Furthermore, once the quota was met for a given day, all the children were allowed to go down to the river and drink water to their hearts content. This was purely out of her own generosity, as they would die if they were not at least allowed to drink water.

Whether the river water was actually healthy was not of concern. After all, those who did not get rewarded with meals were the only one who had to rely on this water.

She didn't need to do this, but out of the kindness of her heart she did so. What a wonderfully generous headmaster she was. She was truly caring for the children she employed.

She gave them jobs, security, and showed them the competition of the real world.

And she even allowed them to continue living their wretched and unwanted lives.

While they may believe she was being strict right now, surely one day they would thank her for teaching them so much later in life.

Their employers in the future must be jumping for joy over the well disciplined laborers.

Of course, she didn't intend to allow the children to go for cheap. Her plan was to form her reputation as someone who produced laborers of the highest quality, and employers would have to pay her a fee in order to use the children for their own businesses.

This would of course, be an underground business- one which was only known among business elites, however it was her long term plan.

Her true products which she was mass producing in this factory were not swords or shields, but ideal workers.

For now, however, the equipment sales were enough.

Mrs. Fera decided that she had seen enough. Fortunately, the children did not even consider slacking off in her absence. Of course, why would they? As soon as she returned, they would still be forced to complete their quota. If they slacked off in the morning, it would only mean that they would be awake all night trying to finish it.

Mrs. Fera had also established another ingenious system, which would further encourage the children to do well in their work.

There were exactly 10 blankets, and 10 pillows made from hay in the bedroom which all the children slept.

Of course, they would all sleep on the floor. When she took over initially, she had sold all the beds and any other nice furniture for profit. There was no need for the children to have such luxuries.

The 6 who were allowed to eat were given a decision each night- which they would vote on.

They would be able to choose whether the top 20 children would be allowed to receive either a blanket or a pillow- but not both, or whether the top 10 would receive both a blanket and a pillow.

She found that it depended on the children who did the best on a given day, as to which way this would go.

Some of them were greedy, and would vote for themselves to have both a pillow and a blanket. Some were generous, and accepted only 1 so that the others could share in the luxury.

If a tie occurred, then by default the option of the top 10 would be chosen. She did this because she did not want the lower workers to be chosen over the higher ones, and this increased the chances of that not occurring.

Many nights were very cold, especially so during winter. While it was spring right now, during the winter she found that the children would almost always choose to have both a blanket and a pillow.

During the summer, this wouldn't matter as much. However, a number of younger children had indeed gotten very sick over the past few months, to the point of death because they were unable to handle the cold at night.

There were originally 40 children working here, however that number had dwindled down to 30 over the three months which Mrs Fera had worked as the headmaster. Even the 30 that remained had barely scraped by, surviving by a small margin.

Not a child remained in this orphanage that wasn't malnourished and sickly.

The final rule which was established by Mrs. Fera when she took over the orphanage, was that the playroom was completely off limits.

She locked it down, never to be opened again.

Such things as toys and games were an unforgivable offense.

If a child were to be playing, then they should be spending that time working.

And so, she completely banned the very act of having fun. After all, they wouldn't become obedient and efficient workers if they were to waste time playing and resting at the end of each day.

And so, from the moment that Mrs. Fera's sister had died, and left the care of the orphanage and the rights to her, it had completely changed into what was essentially a slave farm.

A factory that pumped out the equivalent of slaves, only different in name.

While Mrs. Fera would use the term 'Trained Workers' to refer to the children, when discussing matters with other businesses who showed interest in the products, this was something that was created out of mere political correctness.

They were slaves. Nothing more, and nothing less.

They held no rights. Their entire lives would be lived in poverty, and they would always have death creeping on their shoulder. Unless they topped all the other children, they wouldn't even be able to survive this hell, and even if they did, they would only move onto another.

The children were tormented by this reality, but they kept moving. They kept working, in the hope that one day things would be different- if they only could survive this.

Mrs. Fera exited the warehouse, and walked over to the orphanage to retire to her room.

However, on entering the building and pulling out the key to unlock the door, she noticed something.

The handle was broken, and the wood around it was chipped as if it had been forced open.

Mrs. Fera's mind went blank as she saw this.

'Has someone broken in!?'