The Industrialist

Chapter 78: Schooled

Afternoon.

The marble floors contributed to the reputable image that of Kranian Industries - rich, and topnotch. Even though their external surroundings held no touch of symmetrical fake garden parks that Skycorp had, one would be awed inside the establishment. Everything was squeaky clean; the marbles had a smooth coating that provided a faint mirror.

The bright lights above them bounced against the marble floor, hence, intensifying the illumination within the confines of the room.

Brigz laid demarcation lines on the floor, the traffic-yellow one that sticks almost permanently. Scrubbing it for removal could be very frustrating.

"What's that for?" Lance asked the operator who was bent over, sticking the yellow lines.

"This is to maintain the order of things, boss. The lines would remind anyone here the placements should be within the assigned demarcations."

Lance nodded. Evidently, Brigz had seen clutter of unkempt placements of raw material pallets. Working tables were moved out of place as operators conducted their inspections. Apparently, Brigz knew the general overview of things transpiring inside the production area, while operators had fixated their focus on their task at hand, neglecting what was beyond their responsibility.

Brigz portrayed leadership traits among his colleagues.

"That's smart, Brigz," Lance said. It's the third day of the second week. The air was filled with motivated employees, laser-focused on accomplishing targets.

"How are we with the delays?" Lance asked Brigz, finishing up as he rolled the stickers in its place. Brigz placed the cutting tool and the roll of yellow stickers inside the toolbox. Brigz, even though a Commoner, had a proper arrangement on the production floor, also manifesting inside his toolbox. The tools were neatly arranged, as if he would know immediately if something was lacking.

"Strangely, boss, we are catching up. Last week, we had three pallets delayed. Now, we only have one."

"Have you encountered problems that caused line stoppage?" Lance asked.

"Yes, boss. All predicaments were solved immediately. The manual was a great help, boss." Brigz held an authentic smile and it meant his appreciation. "This is a great lesson for this team, moving forward."

Commoners barely smiled, due to their dire need for survival every waking day. And of course, the uncertainty of food and water shortages due to the lack of money.

They can't afford hospitalization, hence, they need to be healthy all the time. How can one be healthy if they are always eating processed food? As the Commoners would say, strengthen the mind to fend off sickness, otherwise face hunger and thirst for a month.

"Are you surprised?" Lance asked.

"Yes. Even my boys are surprised, too. This is a good approach, boss. What about you? What say Flanegan?"

"I'm fine, no worries. He told me that he already informed Doctor Zee of our delays. So, expectedly, he will come."

"Don't lie to us! It's a three-day delay!" Flanegan interjected, then turned to his mentor, "Doctor Zee, I have told you that assigning a newbie as your coTOR is a mistake." Flanegan raised his voice, trying hard to hide his incompetence.

"And you are saying you are a better TOR than he is?" Zee countered. It was the first time that Zee uttered a word since he entered the floor.

"Ahm... Of course, Doctor Zee." Flanegan stammered, "I am well experienced and handled a lot of production lines here in Kranian. I think I proved my worth and my ability."

"Really, now?" Zee scoffed. "For three projects as my TOR, we experienced a lot of customer complaints, delays, raw material wastages, and a dwindling profit margin arising from these problems. Then you are saying you are a better TOR?"

It collided with Flanegan like an unstoppable tsunami, wrecking everything in its path. Flanegan was surely affected by the words of his mentor.

"Doctor, if you let me explain. I resolved everything from the past and I am sure I can make up to you this..." He stopped as Doctor Zee held a palm up near his face.

"You haven't explained, Mister Berkley. You are standing in a fine line here. And it might be detrimental to your career, not only as a TOR but also as a Mech Tier Scientist." Zee said, even though his voice seemed calm, it had brought destruction.

"Doctor Zee," Lance responded, matching Zee's calm demeanor, "Flanegan was right about the three-day delay. But this is last week's report that I gave to him. As you require me to submit a report every Saturday. The reason for our delays because of my Crew training approach."

"Yeah! I have seen them talking late in the afternoon every day without any output!" Flanegan interjected as he tried to step in between Zee and Lance.

A cold stare streaked through Flanegan's from Doctor Zee and was instantly silenced. Lance just watched how the ass-licker would be schooled by his stupidity.

Lance noticed Brigz and the crew had their occasional gawking among them as the conversation progressed.

"Training, Mister Berkley? That is odd. We don't train crews nowadays. We have state-of-the-art, user-friendly equipment that needs no training. Why did you come up with this method? You are going back to the prehistoric," Zee said.

"Well, Doctor Zee. You are right. What I am doing is old school. But we cannot dismiss the fact that the old school's still applicable depending on the situation." Lance answered.

"Situation, Mister Berkley? Please elaborate," Zee asked.

"Yes. I have been studying from other industries or even got complaints from my clients of scrap materials, these are supervisors too, mostly in SteamHaven, and based on statistical records, there is a twenty percent production delay due to the lack of technical know-how of machine operators."

Zee nodded. His gloomy mood seemed to brighten a little, but so vaguely that one can't determine from afar. He held no smile yet but his eyes softened, the wrinkles on his forehead were lessened, and his stiff jaw seemed to loosen.

Probably, in Lance's perspective, Doctor Zee also heard this kind of statistical data from other Manufacturing industries.

"Expound, Mister Berkley. I suppose what you are going to tell me right now is not only information usable to me but to Mister Flanegan as well."

Flanegan flushed his cheeks and ran towards his ears to spicy red. Apparently, the supervisor was infuriated.