Two weeks later.

Ernest arrived at Hollen’s office carrying an entire stack of parchment tied together tightly with cloth string.

And honestly, even carrying it felt ridiculous.

The stack looked less like paperwork and more like military documents.

When Ernest entered the office upstairs, Hollen was already seated behind the desk reviewing forge records.

The forge owner looked up briefly.

Then his eyes landed on the parchment bundle.

"...What in the gods’ names is that?"

"The business proposal."

Hollen frowned.

"That’s the proposal?"

"Yes."

Silence.

The forge owner slowly leaned back in his chair while staring at the stack.

"...Boy, I asked for a business plan, not enough paper to bankrupt a scribe."

Ernest ignored the comment and carefully placed the stack atop the desk.

The heavy thud immediately echoed slightly inside the office.

Actually, there had to be over forty pages there.

Cost analysis.

Factory layouts.

Production systems.

Supply chain projections.

Worker structures.

Waterwheel designs.

Operational forecasts.

Even projected expansion estimates.

Hollen stared at the bundle for another moment before finally grabbing the cloth string and untying it.

The moment he opened the first pages, his expression gradually shifted.

First curiosity.

Then concentration. 𝗳𝚛𝚎𝚎𝘄𝕖𝕓𝕟𝕠𝚟𝚎𝕝.𝗰𝕠𝐦

Then complete silence.

Meanwhile Ernest simply sat quietly across the desk while waiting.

Hollen eventually stopped at the first layout sketch.

"...Eight hundred square meters?"

"Yes."

"That’s large."

"It needs to be."

Ernest leaned slightly forward afterward and pointed toward the drawing.

"The production building itself only occupies around two hundred fifty square meters."

Then another section.

"Storage, drying rooms, loading space, and future expansion occupy the remaining area."

Hollen narrowed his eyes slightly.

"You planned future expansion already?"

"Of course."

Actually, that was one of the biggest mistakes small businesses often made historically.

They built only for immediate needs.

Then expansion became expensive later.

Ernest already understood that scaling required room.

The forge owner continued reading.

Then he stopped at another section entirely.

"...Near the river?"

"Yes."

"For water supply?"

"Partly."

Ernest immediately grabbed another parchment and slid it forward.

The waterwheel sketch.

The moment Hollen saw it clearly, he blinked.

"...What is this?"

"A mechanical mixing system."

The forge owner leaned forward slightly while examining the drawing carefully.

A large wooden waterwheel stood beside a riverbank.

Connected shafts transferred rotational power toward large kettles inside the production hall.

Wooden gears.

Belt drives.

Rotating paddles.

Actually, the design looked primitive compared to modern machinery.

But for this world?

It looked incredibly advanced.

"You’re using river flow to power the mixing paddles?"

"Yes."

Hollen slowly looked upward toward Ernest.

"...You’re serious."

"Completely."

Back on Earth, factories before electricity relied heavily on water power.

Textile mills.

Grinding mills.

Metal hammers.

Everything depended on rivers.

Soap manufacturing could too.

Ernest pointed toward the operational notes beside the sketch.

"Manual stirring becomes inefficient once production scales."

"Workers tire."

"Mixing consistency changes."

"Production slows."

Then he tapped the paddle system.

"The waterwheel handles continuous mechanical stirring instead."

Hollen stared silently at the sketch for several seconds.

Actually, watermills already existed across the kingdom.

But most people only used them for grinding grain.

Applying the concept toward manufacturing soap?

That was unusual.

The forge owner continued flipping through the pages afterward.

Then suddenly stopped again.

"Six hundred thousand riels?"

Ah.

The capital estimate.

Ernest expected that reaction.

"It includes construction, labor, equipment, river access, raw materials, storage systems, and guild registration."

Hollen narrowed his eyes slightly while reading further.

Then he started mumbling portions quietly to himself.

"Waterwheel construction... forty-five thousand..."

"Three iron kettles..."

"Construction labor..."

"Storage..."

"Initial raw materials..."

Actually, the more he read, the quieter he became.

Because the numbers connected logically.

Nothing looked random.

Every expense had explanation.

Every system had purpose.

This no longer looked like some child fantasizing about wealth.

This looked like industrial planning.

Then Hollen reached the production estimates.

And completely stopped speaking.

"Twenty-one thousand six hundred bars monthly?"

"Yes."

"That’s impossible."

"Not with batch production."

The forge owner looked upward immediately.

"...Batch production?"

Ernest quickly grabbed another parchment before sketching several rectangles.

"Molds."

"Kettles."

"Drying racks."

Then arrows.

"Instead of producing soap individually..."

He pointed across the process flow.

"...production happens continuously in cycles."

"Raw materials enter."

"Soap exits."

"Repeat."

Hollen slowly stared at the diagrams.

Actually, Ernest was unknowingly explaining assembly-line manufacturing logic centuries early.

Primitive version obviously.

But still industrial process organization.

Then came the labor structure section.

Initial workforce: twenty workers.

Ash preparation teams.

Mixing operators.

Drying attendants.

Packaging workers.

Transport handlers.

Hollen frowned slightly afterward.

"...You even organized departments."

"Specialized labor increases efficiency."

Again with those strange business terms.

Still, the logic remained understandable.

If workers constantly switched tasks randomly, productivity dropped.

Hollen reached the financial projection page.

And the office became completely silent.

Projected monthly revenue: 2,160,000 riels.

Projected operational costs: 900,000 riels.

Projected operating profit: 1,260,000 riels.

The forge owner slowly leaned back afterward while staring at the figures.

Actually staring.

Like his brain needed several moments to process the scale of the numbers.

Meanwhile sunlight entered through the office windows as dust drifted lazily through the air.

Still, Hollen remained focused entirely on the parchment.

"...If this succeeds..."

He stopped speaking midway.

Because honestly?

Even half those projected profits would already surpass many established businesses.

"So, are we in?"

Hollen grabbed the proposal stack firmly afterward before tapping it against the desk.

"We’re going to the Merchant Guild. But first, you’ll have to look good, we need to buy you some clothes first."

"That won’t be a problem, I have lot of savings thanks to your salary," Ernest replied casually.

That immediately made Hollen snort softly.

"You really do speak like a merchant already."

"Well, I am trying to become one."

The forge owner shook his head slightly afterward before standing up from his chair.

Actually, even now Hollen still looked mildly stunned by the proposal sitting on his desk.

The numbers.

The systems.

The projected profits.

The waterwheel factory.

Everything felt far too advanced for an eleven-year-old child.

Yet somehow...

Every part of the plan made sense.