Chapter 17: The Boardroom and the Assembly Line

The morning sun illuminated a building that stood in stark contrast to the rest of Dian Village.

Located just off the central square, it was an abandoned house that Silas had ordered thoroughly cleaned and repaired overnight. The rotting thatch had been patched, the floorboards swept clean of dirt, and a massive, sturdy oak table had been moved into the center of the main room. There were no beds, no cooking hearths, and no tools. It served only one purpose.

It was the village’s first administrative headquarters.

Takuya stood at the head of the oak table, looking at the men gathered around it: Silas, Inori, Kaguya, and Vane. The transition from a desperate survival group to a corporate syndicate was officially complete.

“We begin,” Takuya announced, his voice carrying the calm, absolute authority of a chief executive. “Yesterday, we promised the village a daily wage. To fulfill that promise, we need immediate liquid capital. Therefore, the construction of the defensive moat and the Rammed Earth walls is officially delayed.”

Silas frowned slightly but nodded, understanding the logic. “We cannot pay the men if we run out of the emergency fund before we have anything to sell.”

“Exactly,” Takuya pointed to a rough sketch on the table. “Our labor force will pivot immediately. We are commandeering two additional structures. Barn Four will become the Armory for bow production. Barn Five will become the Apothecary for the Clear-Water medicine. We must manufacture a massive first shipment for Balthazar before he leaves for the Royal Capital.”

Takuya turned his gaze to the seasoned hunter. “Vane. Because the wall is delayed, the village is vulnerable. You and your hunters are pulled from all manufacturing labor. I am promoting you to Captain of the Guard. You will arm yourselves with the new folding bows and establish a constant perimeter watch at the edge of the Zephyr Forest. You are the Vanguard.”

Vane straightened his posture, pride swelling in his chest. “No beast or bandit will pass the tree line, Takuya.”

“Good,” Takuya said, resting his hands on the table. “The floor is open. Are there any logistical demands?”

Kaguya raised a hand, his expression a mask of clinical severity. “Barn Five must be spotless. I require an eighty-twenty labor split. Eighty percent women, twenty percent men.”

Silas looked confused. “Why mostly women for the medicine?”

“Fine motor skills and protocol adherence,” Kaguya explained coldly. “Women generally possess a steadier hand for measuring highly concentrated liquids and sealing small glass or clay vials. More importantly, they are more likely to strictly adhere to the repetitive cleaning protocols I will implement. The twenty percent of men will be utilized strictly as heavy labor—hauling river water and carrying firewood to keep the distillation pots constantly boiling.”

“Approved,” Takuya nodded.

Inori adjusted his glasses from across the table. “I am returning to Barn Three immediately after this. The calcinated Plaster of Paris and the alkaline wood-pulp paper prototypes are currently in active progress.”

“Keep me updated on the yield,” Takuya instructed.

Vane cleared his throat. “Takuya, if I pull all the hunters to guard the perimeter, the village won’t have fresh meat. We still need to eat.”

“I am aware,” Takuya replied smoothly. “How do you propose we solve it?”

“A rotation schedule,” Vane answered confidently. “I will split the Vanguard. Two days on perimeter guard duty, followed by one day deep in the woods hunting for game. We will secure the walls and the food supply.”

“A sound logistical compromise. Do it,” Takuya agreed.

Finally, Silas spoke up, his weathered hands clasped together. “Takuya… with all the men building bows and digging chemicals, the fields are empty. We survived the acidic soil, but what is our plan for the farming? We cannot rely on Suebic Town for grain forever.”

Takuya looked at the Head Villager, his eyes softening just a fraction to show respect. “Agricultural independence is a core objective, Silas. A kingdom that cannot feed itself is not a kingdom. But defense and wealth must come first. Once the Rammed Earth walls are finished and the village is impenetrable, I will unveil a new farming strategy that will triple your crop yields. Until then, we buy our food.”

Silas let out a breath, satisfied. Takuya hadn’t forgotten the farmers; he had simply prioritized their survival.

“Meeting adjourned,” Takuya declared. “To your stations.”

✽✽✽✽✽✽

By midday, Barn Four had been utterly transformed.

Takuya and Silas stood near the entrance, watching the organized chaos. Takuya had violently disrupted the traditional artisan method of bow-making—where one man slowly crafts a single bow over several days—and replaced it with a ruthless assembly line.

He had divided the long barn into four distinct stations. At Station One, men did nothing but saw and sand the raw timber to the exact standardized length. At Station Two, women constantly stirred bubbling pots of animal glue, maintaining the perfect temperature. Station Three took the sanded wood and hot glue, rapidly laminating the stretched animal sinew to the back of the limbs. Finally, at Station Four, the specialized locking hinges were bolted into place, creating the folding mechanism.

“Look at them,” Silas whispered in awe as a finished, perfectly uniform folding bow was placed onto a growing pile at the end of the line. “They are making a weapon an hour.”

“Specialization breeds efficiency,” Takuya said, his eyes tracking the movement of the workers. “By tomorrow, they will make two an hour.”

✽✽✽✽✽✽

While the Armory roared with the sounds of saws and hammers, Barn Five was eerily quiet.

Kaguya stepped through the door, the sharp smell of lye soap hitting his nose. The floors and walls had been scrubbed raw. The workforce was divided exactly as he requested: strong men stood by the massive copper distillation pots at the back, while dozens of women sat at long, clean tables near the front.

Leo walked closely behind Kaguya, holding a clean linen towel.

Kaguya stood at the head of the room. His piercing, cold gaze swept over the villagers, causing several of them to shrink back nervously.

“Listen to me carefully,” Kaguya’s voice was soft, but it cut through the room like a scalpel. “The air you breathe, the dirt on your hands, the water in the river—it is all swarming with invisible bugs. If a single one of those bugs gets into the Clear-Water we are making, the medicine becomes poison. The patient will rot from the inside out.”

The women at the tables exchanged terrified glances.

“To kill them, we use fire,” Kaguya continued. “The copper pots must be boiled empty before you add the liquid. They must be boiled again after you empty them. Your hands must be washed in hot water and lye before you touch a single vial. If you drop a vial on the floor, it is contaminated. You do not use it. You smash it.”

Kaguya then reached out and placed a hand on Leo’s shoulder, pushing the fourteen-year-old boy to the front.

“I am the Chief Medical Officer, and my time is required elsewhere,” Kaguya announced. “Leo is your Chief Quality Assurance Officer. He speaks with my voice. If Leo tells you to wash your hands, you wash them. If Leo tells you a batch is contaminated, you throw it out.”

Kaguya’s eyes narrowed into slits. “If Leo tells me that any one of you ignored a cleaning protocol, I will not give you a warning. I will fire you on the spot, and you will never earn a single silver coin from this syndicate again. Do you understand?”

“Yes, sir!” the workers chorused, thoroughly terrified.

Leo stood a little taller, his chest puffing out slightly. The boy who had been sweeping tavern floors yesterday was now the absolute authority of the Apothecary.

✽✽✽✽✽✽

As the sun began to set, casting long orange shadows over the Zephyr Forest, Takuya left the central square and walked down the dirt path toward the riverbank.

The heavy industrial work had ceased for the day, but the air around Barns One and Two still smelled faintly of sulfur and hot clay. Takuya bypassed the massive warehouses and walked directly toward the small, isolated research shed at the edge of the water.

Inori was standing outside Barn Three. His tunic was covered in fine white chalk dust, and soot stained his hands, but his face held that familiar, manic grin of scientific triumph.

Standing stoically beside Inori was a massive, burly man Takuya recognized from the village. It was Kael, the foreman of the excavation team.

“Takuya,” Inori greeted, gesturing to the large man. “Meet Kael. He is my new permanent assistant.”

Takuya raised an eyebrow. “I thought you wanted a scholar, Inori. Not a miner.”

“I don’t need someone to do the math. I do the math,” Inori said, pushing his glasses up his nose. “I need someone who follows instructions exactly as they are given. Yesterday, Kael was the only man who ruthlessly forced the others to keep their wet masks on while we mined the sulfur. When we start distilling highly concentrated sulfuric acid and refining explosive black powder, a scholar who asks too many questions might accidentally blow us up. Kael enforces safety protocols. He is perfect.”

Kael gave a firm, respectful nod to Takuya. “I make sure the rocks don’t kill the workers, sir.”

“A highly practical hire,” Takuya approved. “What are the results of today’s labor?”

Inori’s grin widened. He turned to a small wooden table outside the shed and picked up two items.

In his right hand, he held a solid, perfectly smooth, stark white block of stone. He tossed it to Takuya, who caught it easily. It was heavy and dense.

“Gypsum baked at one hundred and fifty degrees Celsius, crushed, and rehydrated,” Inori reported. “Plaster of Paris. The kilns in Barn Two can produce fifty pounds of this powder an hour. Whenever you are ready to build your walls, the mortar is secured.”

Then, Inori held up his left hand. Resting on a fine, woven wooden screen was a wet, dripping, flat sheet of mashed wood fibers. It was crude, gray, and smelled strongly of alkaline lye, but the structure was unmistakable.

“Wood pulp, river water, and an alkaline bath to break down the lignin,” Inori said, his eyes gleaming with the thrill of creation. “It needs to be pressed dry in the sun tomorrow, but the chemical reaction is a complete success.”

Takuya looked at the wet sheet of paper, a genuine smile breaking across his face.

The Armory was producing weapons. The Apothecary was brewing medicine. The mortar was baked, and the foundation of communication had been synthesized. The Kazuha faction was officially armed and operational.