Ten minutes later, Yuzuki Hanmaru stepped back into the lounge. He'd swapped his sweat-drenched shirt for a crisp new one and regained that polished, CEO-level composure. The disheveled guy from the parking lot was gone; the businessman was back.
We shook hands, and he smiled. "My apologies for the wait, gentlemen."
I waved it off. "It happens. Actually, Yuzuki, have we met? You look incredibly familiar."
He let out a hearty laugh. "We have! That flight from Tampa to Austin back in August. Half the flight crew was trying to get a selfie with you."
"Oh, right! You were sitting right in front of us. And you were with... a young woman, right?"
"That was my daughter," he said, beaming.
"Man, I feel like an idiot for not recognizing you. Why didn't you say something then?"
"Didn't want to be a bother," he explained. "I figured our paths would cross again eventually." At the time, he'd been hesitant to bridge the age gap and bother a guy half his age.
"Sounds like you two are already friends," Tyler joked.
"Just a lucky coincidence," Yuzuki laughed. "Listen, since it's your first time here, let me give you a tour of the plant before we talk business."
"Pass," I said. "We'll have plenty of time to walk the floor later. Let's focus on the deal." I wasn't falling for the "let me show you how pretty the merchandise is" routine.
"Fair enough," he replied, his smile unwavering. "To the conference room, then. The sooner we settle this, the sooner those workers get their back pay."
We moved to the conference room and got down to brass tacks.
"Our teams are synced on the logistics," I started. "We're just down to the price and structure. The goal is simple: Militech wants 100% ownership. We're buying the whole thing."
Yuzuki paused. "Actually, I was hoping for a partnership. Sell you the 60% stake that belonged to Weili, and keep the rest. We've got years of management experience here—experience you're going to need."
He clearly wasn't ready to let go. This plant was his bridge into the tech sector, and he'd fought for it. But the Weili exit had turned it into a money pit, and his shareholders were breathing down his neck. He was desperate for a lifeline that didn't involve total surrender.
I shook my head. "We have options, Yuzuki. Plenty of factories are currently circling the drain. We picked yours because it's local and the equipment is decent. But frankly, the biggest perk is that the staff is already mostly cleared out. Taking over a fully operational plant and having to manage massive layoffs? That's a nightmare I don't want."
Yuzuki looked puzzled. "Workers are assets. Keep them, and you can start production in a week."
"The gear is new, but it's not what I need," I said. "We're going to gut this place and turn it into an intelligent, unmanned factory. We're moving toward full automation."
Yuzuki went quiet. The subtext was clear: he was out. I wasn't just buying his factory; I was rendering his entire business model obsolete. He looked at me—barely twenty-something—with a look that shifted from pity to resignation.
"The future really does belong to the young," he sighed. "My generation built everything on sweat, grit, and hard labor. It's hard to watch technology move so fast that people aren't even part of the equation anymore."
He was trying to school me, framing my approach as "radical" and hinting that I should respect the "old ways." I respected his history, but there was no turning back the clock.
"Machines exist to liberate people from the day to day grind," I countered. "We're replacing the back-breaking labor that people shouldn't be doing anyway. With the population aging and labor costs rising, automation isn't a choice—it's the only way forward. That trend is unstoppable, Yuzuki. You can't fight the current."