Yuzuki and I walked back into the conference room after our coffee break, the tension in the air noticeably lighter. The breakthrough had come after a few final, grueling concessions; the deadlock was broken, and the path to the finish line was finally clear.
"Nicholas, here's to a successful partnership!" Yuzuki said, beaming as he grabbed my hand.
"To a successful partnership," I replied, clinking my glass against his to seal the deal.
As we signed the final paperwork, the room broke into applause. Robinson, the director of the Industrial Park Management Committee who'd been presiding over the ceremony, gave his belly a pat and shook my hand. "Welcome to the Binhe Industrial Park, Nicholas."
"Thanks, Director Robinson. I'm going to need your support as we get up and running."
"Support? It's our job! You're a major enterprise in our park now. If you hit any snags, don't hesitate to reach out. We're here to help."
"Well, since you put it that way, I do have a favor to ask." I'd been waiting for that opening.
Robinson went into autopilot, giving me the classic bureaucratic grin. "Oh? What's on your mind? We're here to serve."
"It's like this: we're gutting the factory for a full-scale automation upgrade. That means a massive layoff. I'm worried about the optics and the fallout, so I need the Committee's support to keep things quiet and orderly."
Robinson's smile didn't break, but his eyes narrowed. "Mass layoffs? That's a delicate situation. One wrong move and you've got a riot. Why not just keep them on during the renovations?"
"The upgrade will take six months to a year. I can't keep a thousand people on the payroll to watch paint dry. We're keeping the core engineers and techs; the rest have to go."
Robinson's mood shifted instantly. The city had been babysitting this factory's problems for months. They'd finally found a groom to take the bride, and now the groom was saying he wanted the bride but none of her baggage. Worse, the city was sweating the job loss stats—it was a hit to their year-end performance reviews.
"This is tough, Nicholas. You know these people haven't been paid in months."
"I've got that covered," I said. "We guarantee every worker gets their back pay within seven days."
After the dust settled, we'd landed at 150 million plus the 15 million in existing debt. It was a fair price, and honestly, I was happy to pay it just to stop the bleeding and get to work.
"That changes things," Robinson said, visibly relaxing.
"The key to a smooth layoff is making sure people feel taken care of," he continued. "Do yourself a favor: on top of the back pay, give them a severance bonus. Maybe a couple hundred bucks a head? It's peanuts for a company like yours, but it'll buy you peace of mind and keep the picket lines from reforming."
I thought about it. Cash is the only language that matters when people are desperate. "Done. It's a small price to pay."
"Perfect," Robinson said. "Just loop us in when you're ready to start, and we'll send staff to keep things orderly."
"Soon as we clear the handover and the bank gets the cash ready," I said. Moving that much cash for a payroll dump was a logistical nightmare that needed a week of bank coordination, but it was worth it to win the workers' trust.
Once I cleared things with Robinson, I walked over to Yuzuki. He was still smiling, but he looked like he'd aged five years in the last hour.
"Uncle Yuzuki, it's a big day! Why the long face?" I teased. We'd dropped the corporate titles now that the deal was done; calling a guy his age "Uncle" was standard, and after hanging out, it felt natural.
"Happy? Who says I'm not happy?" Yuzuki forced a grin.
"It's like walking your daughter down the aisle," I laughed. "It's gotta be weird. So, how about some advice for your future son-in-law?"
Yuzuki pointed a finger at me and let out a genuine, booming laugh. "You brat, you really don't quit, do you?"