At the factory gates.
A group of workers in gray uniforms were lining up to clock in.
"Annai, what a coincidence! Why are you so late today?"
A middle-aged woman with long blond hair appeared behind William's mother, gently patted her shoulder, and asked in surprise.
"Hm? Oh! Good morning, Yani."
William's mother turned around in confusion. Once she saw who it was, a smile immediately appeared on her face, and she explained:
"Something came up at home, so I was delayed getting out."
"Oh, so that's what happened. I was just saying..."
Just as the two chatted while waiting in line.
A commotion suddenly broke out at the back of the queue.
Immediately afterward, the previously orderly line fell into disarray as well.
Several people brushed past William's mother and the others, running into the factory with panicked expressions, as though fleeing something.
"What happened back there?"
Just as William's mother was wondering what had happened, she heard someone shouting behind her:
"Don't be afraid! Lots of police have arrived nearby, and the army too!"
(PS: The National Security Committee also wore military uniforms, so this wasn't actually the army.)
Inside the conference room.
More than a dozen officials from the Ministry of Industrial Development and Trade, including Minister Aurore, sat on either side of the conference table.
Naturally, Sankara sat at its head.
Meanwhile,
Another official stood and delivered his report:
"...So far, our Ministry of Industry has invested in the construction of thirty-seven factories in total, of which thirty-five are light industrial factories and two are heavy industrial factories.
"Seven factories have been completed, all in light industry. We expect the remaining twenty-eight to be completed by March of next year at the latest.
"As for the two heavy industrial factories, er... although the Soviet Union's experts have solved many problems for us, various historical legacy issues mean they will probably take another year..."
"..."
"...Among them, the most successful would be this 'Dugagu Garment Manufacturing Limited Company.' Thanks to the efforts of its factory director, it successfully became profitable in just half a month.
"And thanks to the policy just announced by the Ministry of Agriculture, this company will be able to cut costs further in the future and pass more of its profits on to the workers..."
Ten minutes later.
"...Our Ministry of Industry is confident that, under the president's leadership, we can build our Republic of Burkina into a powerful industrial nation within twenty years."
The official's mouth was nearly dry by the time he finished reading the final word of the document.
Twenty years?
To build the Republic of Burkina into a powerful industrial nation?
At that timeframe, the corner of Sankara's mouth involuntarily twitched.
You really dare to dream!
Even with my "cheat," I only dare to think in terms of thirty to fifty years.
Still, Sankara did not dampen their enthusiasm. Confidence was a good thing, after all, as long as they did not... er, as long as they did not start reporting false figures or engaging in exaggeration in the future.
So Sankara asked another question that had piqued his curiosity:
"This factory called the Dugagu Garment Manufacturing Limited Company has an ex-factory price of five hundred to one thousand North African francs per garment. Why is the price so high? Are you sure any merchants are willing to buy stock from them?"
Although Sankara did not know what the ex-factory and wholesale prices of clothing ought to be, he knew the market prices.
As far as Sankara knew.
In the Republic of Burkina, a new garment generally retailed for 800 to 1,500 North African francs, depending on quality and style.
Naturally, there were more expensive and cheaper clothes too.
But for various reasons, those clothes were not particularly useful as a reference.
And a garment's ex-factory price was generally 50% of its retail price, or even 20%.
In other words,
Merchants paid as little as 160 to 300 North African francs for their stock, and at most only 400 to 750 North African francs.
Yet at the Dugagu Garment Manufacturing Limited Company.
The ex-factory price alone was 500 to 1,000 North African francs!
Unless the quality was particularly good, or the brand carried a premium, no merchant would possibly buy stock from them.
So how had they managed to become profitable in just half a month?
"Because their factory director didn't sell the clothes to wholesalers or retailers. Instead, he sold them directly to ordinary consumers."
An official answered.
"???"
Sankara froze for a moment, even more puzzled, and asked:
"Cutting out the middlemen and having the factory deal directly with consumers is certainly a very good idea. But why don't other clothing companies or wholesalers do the same? I imagine it shouldn't be very difficult?"
"..."
The officials fell silent.
In the end, it was Minister Aurore who answered:
"Mr. President, it's actually very difficult!
"Because those retailers, while called retailers, are actually local landlords and criminal forces. If clothing companies and wholesalers do this, they immediately receive death threats.
"But the Dugagu Garment Manufacturing Limited Company is a government enterprise, protected by the municipal and county governments wherever it operates, so they don't dare use overly underhanded methods."
"..."
Those words really were Garen buying Last Whisper: not only did they silence Sankara, they very nearly broke through his defenses outright.
The curses were already on the tip of his tongue!
But in the end, Sankara swallowed them back down.
At the sight.
The officials in the conference room all lowered their heads like children who had done something wrong.
Although this actually had little to do with them, with the main responsibility lying with the Ministry of Police and Public Security Administration, their boss had nearly had his defenses broken. Who would dare keep their head raised?
Hadn't even Aurore lowered his head?
"Sigh..."
Sankara let out a deeply helpless sigh.
Ultimately, this sort of thing was still his responsibility, as well as a legacy of history.
Just then.
Meyev, the president's chief secretary, pushed open the conference room door.
Then, under everyone's gaze, he walked straight to Sankara's side, bent down, and whispered in his ear:
"Mr. President, word has come from the National Security Committee that, together with the Ministry of Public Security, they prevented an extremely vicious public security incident near a factory in the capital, Dugagu.
"They successfully reduced what could have been a terrorist attack causing heavy casualties to just four minor injuries. Chairman Kroko is outside right now. He says he needs to report the details to you in person!"
"!?"
A public security incident? A terrorist attack?
Hearing those two terms, Sankara was no longer in the mood to keep dwelling on historical legacy issues here.
In any case, given just a little more time, he would swat all these tigers and flies dead with a single slap, then sweep the lot onto the rubbish heap of history.
"Everyone, something has suddenly come up that I need to attend to. Please continue the meeting; I won't be sitting in any longer. Once the meeting is over, just send a copy of the minutes and the documents used during the meeting to my office."
With that, Sankara rose and left the conference room.