Hello. I was one of the Civil Official Girls. My name? There was no need to worry about that.
Now, autumn in the village was drawing to a close. The harvest season had reached its peak, and the workload for us Civil Official Girls continued to mount. We couldn't complain, however; we were allowed to take it easy outside of the harvest season, so we gave it our all.
Wait, I found a discrepancy between the storehouse records and the actual inventory. I suspected someone had simply put the goods in the wrong building, but I didn't take it upon myself to correct it. First, I reported the finding to the others and confirmed the situation. Even if I believed it to be a mistake, there was always a chance the items were stored there for a specific reason. Though, given the gap in the ledger, there was almost certainly an error somewhere.
As I expected, the goods had been placed in the wrong storehouse. Everyone was busy, so such things were bound to happen. I prepared to move them.
"Oh, Zabuton's children. Are you here to help me? Thank you very much. But please, do not overexert yourselves. Make sure several of you carry each box together. I know you're strong enough to carry us even with those small bodies, but watching you do it makes me feel quite nervous."
"Ah, yes. Please take them to Storehouse No. 22, two buildings over. It's the shelf on the right just past the entrance. Correct, that is the storage location for crops slated for later processing. We will eventually hand those over to the Dwarfs to be turned into sake. I'm looking forward to the finished product, aren't you?"
Did they prefer eating them as they were over drinking sake? I supposed that made sense. As a thank you for the help, I promised to give them a few later. It was no problem; we had stock reserved for adjustments. There was usually about one box's worth left over anyway, so giving them a few wouldn't be an issue. I possessed at least that much discretionary authority.
"Now, please move those boxes. I will check to see if there are any other errors."
Phew. I finished checking every storehouse in the village and verified the final count of the harvest. Thankfully, that one storage mistake was the only major discrepancy. However, we had to analyze why it happened to prevent a recurrence. Careless mistakes were inevitable, but we wouldn't grow as a team unless we addressed the root causes.
Our current system—the numbered storehouses, the standardized shelf layouts, and the boxes sized specifically for each crop—was the direct result of years of such verification and refinement. Every year, errors decreased slightly and our work became smoother. I looked forward to next year being even better.
Then, trouble occurred.
The Mountain Elves had developed a crop processing machine that significantly boosted efficiency, but they had apparently gotten carried away and processed a batch that should have been left alone.
"What kind of processing?" I asked a colleague.
"Husking the corn and stripping the kernels from the cob."
"Ah, the ones they put in jars."
"Exactly. They were supposed to prepare two hundred jars, but they processed enough for three hundred..."
"Well, at least they are jarred, so they'll keep."
"No, we're short about seventy jars, so there's a portion sitting there unpacked."
"What! What are we going to do?"
"Corn kernels last for a while on their own, but I suppose we have no choice but to give the excess to the Dwarfs as is."
"That makes sense. You have to strip the cobs to make sake anyway. That should be fine, then. The Dwarfs have been asking us to increase their supply for a long time now."
"While the processed corn is accounted for, the plan for the unprocessed stock has been thrown into chaos..."
"Let's see. One jar holds about ten ears' worth of kernels? So seventy jars means... we're short seven hundred ears of corn?"
"Actually, include the thirty extra jars they managed to pack."
"Right. One hundred jars' worth of corn was over-processed, so we're short a thousand ears."
"Precisely. We will have to cancel the deliveries to the groups with lower priority."
"Lower priority? Who would that be?"
"The portions provided to the Dragons will have to be reduced."
"...Umm."
"The Village Head set the priorities, so it's technically fine."
"I-I suppose that's good... right?"
"It is. However, we need to decide on a punishment for the Mountain Elves who made the mistake."
"Punishment? They got carried away, but is it really worth a punishment?"
"They caused a loss for the village. Punishment is only natural."
"It was a mistake made while working hard, though. Shouldn't a strict caution be enough?"
"You're too soft."
"But even if we report it to the Village Head, that's likely what he'll say."
"Mu... you're right. He'll probably just laugh and forgive them."
"Exactly. That's one of the best things about him."
"Fine. After we report to the Village Head, we will issue a strict caution to the Mountain Elves involved."
"Let's do that."
I was relieved it was a manageable problem. Furthermore, the corn processing machine seemed like it would be in high demand. I planned to ask the Mountain Elves to prepare several more units. Oh, that's right. Regarding the mistake from getting carried away—we had to think about what should have been done to keep them focused. Failure was acceptable, but repeating the same failure had to be avoided.
My colleague reported the incident to the Village Head, and as expected, he laughed and forgave them. I then reported my proposed countermeasures to him. The basic plan was to station a supervisor near the Mountain Elves, but...
"Wait, wait," the Village Head said. "You're saying the cause was them getting carried away, but wasn't the real problem that the unprocessed corn was sitting right next to the corn meant for processing? Or did the Mountain Elves go out of their way to fetch corn from another location to process it?"
They had not.
"I think it would be more effective to use signs so anyone can tell at a glance which is for processing and which isn't."
I see. He was right. We would implement that. For now, we would make a Signboard for Processing and a Signboard for Non-processing. Starting next year, we would also separate the storage locations.
"I see. Can I leave that to you?" he asked.
"Yes, please leave it to us."
The Village Head nodded with satisfaction. Just then, Kuro and Yuki, who were waiting at his sides, barked to get his attention. The Village Head was in the middle of a walk with them.
"I'm sorry for the interruption," I said.
"No, no, work comes first. I'm only relaxing because my part is done."
I chuckled. Not long ago, the Village Head had offered to help us because he was finished with his tasks. But this was my—no, our job. Since we couldn't help him when he was busy, we wanted this to remain our own sphere of activity. Still, it would be wrong to never consult him on anything. Not that I'd ever dream of making arbitrary decisions on my own.
I watched the Village Head resume his walk, followed by Kuro's children and Zabuton's children. The spiderlings who had helped me move the boxes waved their legs in greeting, and I waved back.
Reflection was good, but there was still work to do. Today's effort would make tomorrow easier. Once the harvest-related tasks were over, it would be time for the Martial Arts Tournament, but after that, we could finally relax. I looked forward to that.
I prayed that no further troubles would burden the Village Head.
Rusty: "Wait, where's the corn? I was looking forward to it... Lady Hakuren?" Hakuren: "I-I wasn't the one who ate it all!" Mountain Elves: ".................. We're so sorry!" Village Head: "Now, now. It was a mistake made while working hard. Forgive them." Draim: "I'll let it slide since it's corn, but if it had been daikon..." Mountain Elf A: "We're currently designing a Daikon Washing and Leaf-cutting Machine." Mountain Elf B: "We even plan to add a function that automatically peels and slices them to a specific size." Draim: "...I will provide the budget. Bring the prototype immediately."