After a two-hour drive, we finally rolled into the Binhe Industrial Park. Calling this place an "industrial park" doesn't do it justice—it's more like a sprawling new industrial city designed by the Anxi government to bait tech companies into building factories and firing up the local economy.
We navigated a few side streets and pulled up to the gates of Atlas Intelligent Manufacturing. Instead of a red carpet or a PR team, we were greeted by a sea of jumpsuit-clad workers. It was a total ambush; they surged forward and completely boxed in our shuttle.
The mood inside the cabin went from bored to high-alert instantly. My heart was pounding, but I kept my cool. "Someone go out there and figure out what's happening," I said.
One of our business ops guys jumped out. A few minutes later, he climbed back in, drenched in sweat. "Director, they're factory staff. They heard we were coming, so they're here to shake us down for their back pay."
"Back pay?" I frowned. I looked at the agitated crowd pressing against the windows. "Go back out. Tell them we aren't the government officials they think we are. And get me the brass on the phone—I want to know why we're walking into a picket line."
The staffer hopped out, and Tyler started dialing.
"Director Yuzuki? What the hell is going on? We're stuck at your front gate surrounded by a mob." Tyler paused, listening. "Fine. We'll wait, but make it fast."
He hung up, looking pissed. "They're coming out to handle it. Told us to sit tight and stay in the van."
"What kind of disaster is this?" Terry muttered, staring at the chaos outside.
I leaned back, analyzing the crowd. "Actually, this is a calculated move. They're using the workers to squeeze us. They want us to see the mess and feel the pressure. Guarantee they're sweating bullets right now, hoping we don't just drive away."
"That's one way to look at it," Tyler said, sounding worried. "But we've got to run this place eventually. If the workers are this volatile now, it's going to be a nightmare to manage after we close the deal."
"We fix the wages first," I said. "That buys us the authority to restructure. Once we take over, we're doing a massive layoff—keep the core engineering staff, let the rest go. We don't need this much overhead once we upgrade the lines."
"The city's going to fight that," Tyler warned. "Mass layoffs aren't exactly good PR."
"It's not optional. They'll fall in line."
Just then, a wave of guys in suits rushed out from the factory to argue with the picket line. Our staffer dove back into the van, gasping for air. "It's useless. They're convinced you guys are high-level politicians. They saw a shuttle like this on the news and think anyone riding in one must be a big-time leader."
Tyler and Terry cracked up. The van did look like a government-issue VIP shuttle, which was exactly why we bought it—it's a hell of a lot more comfortable than a cramped luxury sedan.
Suddenly, a guy in a disheveled white shirt squeezed through the crowd and started pounding on our door. I signaled Ryan, our security lead, to open up.
The guy hopped inside, panting. "Director Tyler, Director Yuzuki is dealing with it. He asks you to just hold on for a minute."
Tyler gave him a cold stare. "Tell Yuzuki to move faster. This is no way to treat guests."
"Yes, sir! Sorry, sir!" He bolted back into the swarm.
I chuckled. "Looks like we're stuck. Everyone, just close your eyes and get some rest. We've got a long negotiation ahead."
I spent the next twenty minutes scrolling through my phone, trading aimless banter with the guys. When I finally sat up and looked out, the scene hadn't changed. The argument outside was still heating up.
"It's not going anywhere," Tyler said, looking grim.
"Open the door," I said, rising.
"Barney, seriously? Let's just walk away and reschedule," Tyler urged.
"No. We own this place, we deal with the problems. Better to start now than later."
Ryan hesitated, then swung the door open. He stood in front of me, shielding my exit. Tyler and the rest of the team followed, creating a tight phalanx as we stepped out.
The workers, who had been wilted by the sun, surged toward us the second we hit the pavement. Then, they saw us. They stopped dead, staring at our young, clean-shaven faces. I could see the confusion—they were expecting a room full of suits, not a bunch of kids who looked like they should still be in college.
Director Yuzuki and his team pushed through the workers to intercept us. Yuzuki looked like he hadn't slept in a week. He grabbed my hand and started shaking it like his life depended on it.
"Director Nicholas, Director Tyler, I am so incredibly sorry. This is a mess, and I'm embarrassed you have to see it like this."
I gave him a calm smile. "Don't worry about us, Director Yuzuki. Anyone would have a massive headache with this. Just handle your business with the staff, and we'll talk when you're ready."