Kays Translations
Just another Isekai Lover~
Chapter 3 The Secret of the Little Prince
“Kid, I think your little fairy tale… actually has some merit. It’s worth publishing.”
Regardless of what others might think, at least Old Riley believed in his own sharp literary judgment. Otherwise, he couldn’t have taken the “Golden Riley Publishing House,” which originally had only three people, and built it into the largest and most renowned publisher in White Sand City.
His long experience in publishing told Old Riley that the small portion of The Little Prince he had skimmed through was indeed worth publishing.
The story might be a little childish, but the language was remarkably concise. At the very least, it could earn a tidy profit. A first print run of ten thousand copies might even sell out in two months.
As he smiled at Marlon, Old Riley’s mind, seasoned by years in publishing, was already thinking along these lines.
He even imagined the subtitle for this edition of The Little Prince: The Adult World Through a Child’s Eyes.
As for Marlon, whose expression had been slightly anxious moments ago, his facial lines softened just as Old Riley had expected.
“However…” Riley waited for this exact moment. Before Marlon could speak, he shifted gears: “Kid, don’t you think your fairy tale is a bit too childish? From the standpoint of a professional publisher like me, it’s suitable only as a bedtime story for children under ten. So I regret to inform you that your Little Prince is destined to remain—a niche book!”
In fact, this was Old Riley’s usual trick. Whenever he came across a manuscript with publishing potential, he would first offer a small compliment to give the nervous author hope, then swiftly tear it down, almost rendering it worthless.
Afterwards, when the author’s spirits sank, it was Riley’s chance to negotiate a low price and snatch up all the rights.
Without this method, how could Riley have run his publishing house so successfully?
This time, Riley felt confident that his tried-and-true tactic would once again turn a profit, especially as Marlon across from him looked genuinely stunned.
Ha! Just a little comment and the kid is already rattled?
Feeling a bit smug, Old Riley maintained a friendly facade, tiptoeing to pat Marlon’s shoulder.
“Kid, Old Riley never lies to a writer. Your Little Prince is indeed a niche book. But I, generous Old Riley, am willing to pay two hundred rants for the rights! Not for any other reason, just to encourage you to keep creating!”
Riley’s tone was earnest, as if he were a kindly elder nurturing a young talent.
“Mr. Riley, you mean… two hundred rants?”
Marlon, who had been staring in shock, now nearly laughed and cried at the same time.
This bald man… is he joking?
This is The Little Prince—a book that, at least in the Earth world, sold over two hundred million copies and is famously second only to the Bible.
Buying the rights for two hundred rants? That’s like trying to buy it outright for pocket change.
Even in another world, this Little Prince would be so “niche” that the buyout price barely equaled, hmm… a steam locomotive constantly on the verge of breaking down?
Unconsciously, Marlon glanced at the Sabertooth Leopard Type-3 steam locomotive behind the minotaur boy, Ester.
Then, he shifted his gaze back to the Little Prince manuscript tightly held in Riley’s hands and said, “Mr. Riley, actually, this manuscript of The Little Prince hides a very interesting secret.”
“An interesting secret? Kid, are you sure you’re not joking?”
Riley was momentarily taken aback. This wasn’t the answer he expected. Yet curiosity, combined with Marlon’s serious expression, prompted him almost instinctively to hand the manuscript back.
Marlon retrieved the manuscript with a bright smile: “You are truly wise, Mr. Riley. I was indeed joking.”
As Marlon said, his “interesting secret” was nothing more than a ruse to safely reclaim his manuscript.
Two hundred rants for the rights to The Little Prince?
Hah… who does he think he’s kidding?
Riley was stunned. It took him a long moment to realize that his clever plan had been outwitted by this barely-grown kid—a humiliation he had never before experienced.
Though he wanted to lash out, in the bustling street before countless onlookers, Riley—priding himself on his dignity—could not.
“Ungrateful brat! I swear, no one in all of White Sand City will ever publish your childish fairy tale again!”
With that, veins bulging on his bald head, Riley stormed off.
After he had walked far enough, Ester—the minotaur boy who had remained silent all this time—finally reacted: “Brother, this is bad! You shouldn’t have crossed him. He’s serious! No one will publish what you have in your hands! Well… except for Ivna-Bane.”
Ester’s father worked in the paper industry, so it was no surprise that he knew insider information about White Sand City’s publishing scene.
Evidently, Riley’s ears caught Ester’s mention of “Ivna-Bane,” because the previously striding man clearly paused for a moment.
“Who’s Ivna-Bane?”
Marlon asked.
“She’s the red-haired queen of Emerald Crest Publishing!”
Ester blinked, surprised that Marlon didn’t know Ivna-Bane’s name.
“Red-haired queen Ivna…?”
Marlon repeated Ester’s words and, almost instantly, conjured an image in his mind: a woman with wild red hair, clad in tight black leather, twenty-centimeter heels, wielding a nine-tailed cat whip, laughing mischievously—an archetypal domineering queen.
“Let’s go to Emerald Crest Publishing.”
Marlon said firmly.
However, Ester simply pointed to the stalled steam locomotive.
Three minutes later, Marlon set off alone, while Ester stayed behind, trying to get the “Sabertooth Leopard” roaring again.
After crossing two busy streets, manuscript in hand, Marlon finally saw the sign for Emerald Crest Publishing.
Emerald Crest Publishing stood diagonally across from the massive Golden Riley Publishing—a modest, dilapidated two-story building by comparison.