6: Chapter 6 Production Accident, the Threat of Slacking Off from the Gray Dwarves

Her voice carried a trace of coldness: "We haven't brought a partner onto our ship, but a venomous snake ready to bite back at any moment."

Not a hint of surprise showed on Levi's face, as if all of this was already within his expectations.

He just lightly patted the heavy coin purse on the table; the crisp sound of metal clashing sounded exceptionally pleasant in the hall.

"A venomous snake?" He turned his head, looking at Evelyn's red pupils, which seemed even brighter due to her worry, a meaningful smile curling at the corner of his mouth. "No, Evelyn. In my eyes, he isn't a snake; he's a wolfhound on a collar. As long as the meat bone in our hands is big enough, he'll behave. In fact, to protect this bone, he'll be more vicious than anyone."

A wolfhound?

Evelyn was stunned; she couldn't understand such a metaphor.

No matter how she looked at it, Klaus's sinister gaze had nothing to do with a loyal hunting dog.

Levi didn't explain much.

In his previous life in the corporate world, he had seen too many people like Klaus.

They clung to power and lusted after profit, yet lacked the courage and ability to start a business on their own.

When dealing with such people, threats and inducements were secondary; the key was to tie them firmly to your own chariot of interests, making them understand that they would rise or fall together with you.

As long as the profit growth of 'abyss kiss' could exceed the expansion of his inner greed, this 'wolfhound' wouldn't turn on its master for the time being.

Of course, only for the time being.

He poured Klaus's investment together with his remaining money and recounted it all.

Sixty-six gold coins, plus a large pile of silver and copper coins.

This was the entire startup capital for Blackstone Territory, and the first lever he would use to move the future.

"Alright, ladies and gentlemen," Levi clapped his hands, drawing everyone's attention, "now that the funds are in place, I declare the first Production Expansion Meeting of Blackstone Territory officially open!"

Iron Hammer and Morg looked at each other, completely failing to understand these new terms, but they could sense that the Lord's mood seemed even more excited than when he had just earned twenty gold coins.

Levi dragged a pre-prepared burlap sack onto the table and, with a clatter, poured out a pile of brand-new tools.

Polished steel saws, chisels of various sizes, elegantly curved planes, a roll of rope smelling of pine resin, and several jars of black sealant.

These were all items he had sent guards to the town at the foot of the mountain to urgently purchase this morning using the two gold coins Dorian had given him.

"Iron Hammer," Levi pushed several blueprints for the second-generation distillation equipment toward the dwarf, then pushed the pile of new tools in his direction. "These are new tools, and with the startup capital sponsored by Mr. Klaus, you don't need to worry about materials. My requirement is that within one week, you build three identical, brand-new high-efficiency distillation units according to these new blueprints."

Iron Hammer's eyes were instantly glued to the cold, glinting steel saw. He reached out his thick fingers, sliding them gently over the saw teeth like he was stroking a lover, and let out a satisfied grunt from his throat.

But when he heard the words "three units" and "one week," his brow immediately twisted into a knot.

"Lord, that's impossible!" He picked up the blueprints, pointing at the complex piping and multi-layered structure, shouting in a muffled voice, "This kind of delicate work isn't like building a wooden shack! Just polishing those connecting pipes would take three days for one unit! Not to mention this damned multi-layered structure... this needs inspiration, it needs the finest ale of the Dwarf race to spark inspiration! Three units in a week? Not unless the God of Forging himself descends to earth!"

"I don't care if the God of Forging descends or not," Levi's tone was beyond dispute. "I only know that orders will soon come flying in like snowflakes. We must prepare our production capacity in advance. One week, three units—that is a final order."

Having said that, he looked at the bewildered Morg nearby: "Morg, from today on, besides being responsible for our meals, you will also serve as the warehouse keeper. All purchased timber, tools, and finished products must be registered into the inventory by you. If anything goes wrong, I will hold you accountable."

The Halfling cook trembled with fear and nodded repeatedly like a chicken pecking at grain.

The meeting ended in an atmosphere filled with tension and confusion.

For the next three days, the castle's backyard was completely transformed into Iron Hammer's exclusive workshop.

The ear-piercing sound of sawing wood, the rhythmic hammering, and the dwarf's occasional outbursts of profanity rang out incessantly from morning till night.

Levi locked himself in his study, recalling chemistry knowledge from his past life to refine the process details of distillation and purification, while using charcoal to sketch out a future business blueprint on parchment.

However, on the afternoon of the third day, when Levi stepped out of the castle to inspect the production progress, he was greeted by a dead silence.

In the backyard, wood chips and shavings covered the ground, looking as messy as a junkyard.

The prototype of a single distillation unit stood lonely in the center, less than half-finished, with various semi-finished parts scattered around it.

And the Chief Technical Officer who should have been busy, Hammer Green, was lying sprawled out on a pile of lumber, fast asleep. He was clutching an empty wine bottle, and the pungent smell of alcohol mixed with sweat made one's brow furrow.

"What's going on?" Levi's expression darkened as he looked at Morg, who was standing to the side, at a loss.

The Halfling cook was almost driven to tears. He lowered his voice, pointing at the dwarf who was sleeping like a dead pig: "Lord, Master Iron Hammer... he's gone on strike. This morning, he drank all the ale you gave him, then threw down his tools and said... said without good wine, he has no inspiration and can't make a single part."

Just then, Iron Hammer was woken up by the sound of their conversation.

He rubbed his bleary eyes, let out a long alcoholic burp, and slowly sat up.

Seeing Levi, he didn't show the slightest guilt. Instead, he threw the empty bottle aside with full confidence and shouted gruffly, "Lord, I can't do what you asked! Look at these blueprints; they're more complicated than an Elven woman's mind! This kind of work is art! Art, do you understand? That horse-piss ale you gave me isn't even fit to sharpen my axe, so how could it spark my inspiration?"

He extended a thick finger and said overbearingly, "You want me to keep working? Fine! Get me some real good wine! At least something like the 'Lava Flame' that the Ironforge dwarves drink! Otherwise, anyone else who wants to do this job can have at it!"

After saying that, he turned his head away, adopting a posture of 'a dead pig doesn't fear boiling water.'

Evelyn's...

To everyone's surprise, there wasn't a trace of anger on Levi's face.

He just looked at Iron Hammer calmly, then scanned the disorganized workshop, remaining silent for a moment.

He ignored the belligerent Iron Hammer and instead walked straight to the half-finished distillation unit, observing it carefully.

He picked up a finished copper fractionating pipe; it felt slightly heavy in his hand, the joints were polished as smooth as a mirror, and when he wiped the inner wall with his finger, he couldn't feel a single burr.

He checked several key mortise and tenon joints and found that every single one fit perfectly, displaying a very high level of craftsmanship.

The dwarf's skill was indeed beyond reproach.

Next, he walked over to the other pile of wood and saw many cut planks.

Some were for the supports, others for assembling barrels.

The edges of these planks were rough, and there were slight errors in size—clearly the result of quick processing using brute force.

He roughly understood.

Levi paced unhurriedly through the workshop, spending a full half-day like a ghost, just watching without saying a word.

He watched how Iron Hammer laboriously sawed planks from a whole log, how he spent a massive amount of time on manual labor that required no technical skill, and how Morg, aside from delivering food on time, could only stare blankly in boredom.

The root of the problem was found.

It wasn't a technical issue, nor was it an attitude problem; it was the purest... process management issue.

A top-tier technician proficient in precision manufacturing was wasting seventy percent of his time on material preparation, hauling, and rough processing. This was a criminal waste of resources.

By evening, just when everyone thought Levi would explode in a thunderous rage, he gathered everyone again, a slight smile even gracing his face.

"I announce," he cleared his throat, his voice clear and powerful, "that from now on, we will implement a 'Production Process Optimization Reform.'"

He picked up a piece of charcoal and, on a flat wooden board, broke down the entire manufacturing process of the distillation equipment into a dozen independent steps.

"Step one: Log processing, to be handled by Morg. Requirement: Cut all timber into standard planks according to specified dimensions."

"Step two: Rough plank sanding, to be handled by Morg. Requirement: Sand all standard planks until there are no obvious burrs."

"Step three: Support assembly, to be handled by Morg..."

In one breath, he assigned Morg seven or eight tasks, all of which were standardized manual labor that didn't require much skill.

The Halfling cook listened in a daze, pointing at his own nose: "Me? Lord, I... I'm just a cook!"

"From today on, you are also a worker on the front line of production," Levi said in a tone that brooked no argument. Then he looked at Iron Hammer. "Iron Hammer, these," he circled several key steps with the charcoal, "'Core Condenser Pipe Fabrication,' 'Precision Processing of Multi-layer Fractionating Tower,' 'Fine Polishing of Interfaces'—these tasks with the highest technical content will all be given to you. You only need to focus on these; all other odd jobs will be prepared for you by Morg."

Iron Hammer was stunned, looking at Levi with some disbelief.

Only do the most critical work?

No need to carry those damn logs himself anymore?

"That... that sounds more like it," he muttered, his attitude clearly softening.

"Don't be in a hurry, I'm not finished yet." The corner of Levi's mouth curled into a familiar, capitalist-style arc. "To complement the new production process, our compensation system will also undergo reform."

He wiped away the words on the board and wrote down two new headings: [Piece-rate Pay] and [Quality Rewards & Penalties].

"Starting tomorrow, there will no longer be a fixed labor wage." His gaze swept over Morg and Iron Hammer. "Morg, for every standard plank you finish cutting, you earn one copper coin. For every standard support you assemble, you earn three copper coins. Work more, earn more; work less, and you'll go hungry."

Morg's breathing instantly quickened.

This... didn't this mean that as long as his hands and feet were fast enough, he could earn several days' worth of money in a single day?

"As for Iron Hammer," Levi looked at the dwarf, his eyes flashing with a sharp light, "your reward will no longer be money, but wine."

Like a magic trick, he pulled a large barrel of ordinary ale and a small wine cup from behind him.

"For every precision component you finish processing—for example, a fractionating pipe or a tower layer—after it passes my inspection, you can come to me and exchange it for a cup of ale."

Iron Hammer's face immediately fell: "Just this stuff? I told you, this horse-piss..."

"Let me finish." Levi interrupted him, pulling out a small wooden keg carefully wrapped in oilcloth from behind him.

He unwrapped the oilcloth, and a mellow, rich aroma of wine instantly filled the air. This scent was far superior to ordinary ale, carrying a hint of fruitwood fragrance.

"This is something I had someone buy for a high price from the Royal Capital, 'Ironforge Lava Flame,' the real deal."

Iron Hammer's nose twitched like a dog's, his eyes instantly went wide, his Adam's apple bobbed uncontrollably, and he was almost drooling.

He wouldn't forget this smell even if he died!

This was the kind of wine a dwarf should drink!

"Do you want it?" Levi placed the keg at Evelyn's feet like a devil tempting a mortal. "It's simple. When Morg and you work together to successfully assemble a complete, brand-new distillation unit, and it's inspected and passed by Evelyn—our current Chief Quality Inspector—confirming that its sealing, stability, and distillation efficiency all meet the standards, then you will receive this entire keg of 'Lava Flame' as the final bonus for completing the project!"

The dwarf's breathing became incredibly heavy, his eyes fixed deathly on that keg of wine he dreamed of, his fists clenching with a crackling sound.

His brain fought a frantic battle between the craving for alcohol and the hatred of work, but that overbearing wine aroma finally destroyed his reason completely.

"I'll do it!" He slapped his thigh hard, jumped up from the ground, and roared with bloodshot eyes, "It's just three lousy machines, isn't it? I'll build them for you! Morg, you short, fat bastard, what are you still standing there for? Go saw the wood for me! If you delay my drinking, I'll burn your legs for firewood!"

The new system was like a shot of the most potent stimulant, injected fiercely into the bodies of these two employees—one who had been slacking off and one who had been a bystander.

For the next three days, the backyard of Blackstone Castle presented a scene of bustling, almost frenzied production.

Morg completely unleashed a Halfling's primal desire for wealth. He swung that steel saw, which was a bit too large for him, tirelessly cutting and sanding from morning till night. He was drenched in sweat but never tired of it.

Whenever he delivered a pile of standardized parts to Iron Hammer, the sense of satisfaction was stronger than making a perfect pot of mushroom bisque.

And Iron Hammer had completely transformed into a precision machine tool.

He no longer had to worry about those annoying odd jobs; all his energy was poured into the core craftsmanship he excelled at.

Whenever his mouth was dry and he wanted to slack off, the thought of that keg of 'Lava Flame' immediately filled him with strength.

Every time he finished a component, he would excitedly run to Levi to exchange it for a cup of 'functional drink' to moisten his throat, then charge back into work with a shout.

The two, who originally couldn't stand each other, actually formed a strange tacit understanding under this new assembly line model.

Production efficiency had increased by more than fivefold.

At dusk on the seventh day, when the last bolt was tightened, three brand-new second-generation distillation units, glinting with the luster of metal and wood, stood neatly in the backyard. The entire team collapsed to the ground in exhaustion.

Iron Hammer hugged his hard-earned keg of 'Lava Flame,' smiling like a three-hundred-pound child.

Morg counted the large bag of copper coins he had earned, humming with happiness.

Evelyn stood beside Levi, watching this incredible scene, her awe for this man deepening yet another level.

He hadn't used any force or magic; merely by changing the process and designing an incentive system, he had squeezed such staggering productivity out of a lazy drunkard and a cowardly cook.

This was even more terrifying than a devil's contract.

Levi looked at his masterpiece with satisfaction. These three units were the first cornerstone of his industrial empire.

Though crude, they were of immense significance.

Just as he was about to step forward and personally inspect the results, a sudden, rapid, and dense sound of horse hooves came from the front of the castle, approaching from afar.

A guard ran in from the front gate with a panicked expression, reporting breathlessly: "Lord! Lord Dorian Eldridge... he, he's brought several nobles from the Royal Capital, and they're already at the castle gate!"

Levi's brow furrowed slightly.

He arrived early? And brought people?

This wasn't in his plan.