Building the First Industrial Empire in Another World

Some of the workers of the Helmarte Soap Works were outside watching Ernest inspect the damage more closely.

Other workers continued working as some parts of the production process didn’t require immediate mechanical power.

Soap curing still continued.

Packaging could continue temporarily.

Inventory counting could continue.

But the mixing system powered by the waterwheel had effectively stopped.

And that was the real problem.

Ernest crouched near the riverbank.

Several workers stood nearby waiting for instructions.

Even Hollen had calmed down enough to let Ernest work.

Actually, this was where his engineering background became useful.

Most people looked at the shattered wheel and saw disaster.

Ernest looked at it and saw components.

Components could be repaired.

Components could be replaced.

The first thing he examined was the foundation.

The waterwheel rested on a pair of heavy stone supports extending into the river.

He carefully walked around them.

No cracks.

No major displacement.

No settlement.

Good.

Very good.

Actually, this was the most important part.

If the foundation had failed, repairs would become a nightmare.

Stone masons.

River divers.

Temporary cofferdams.

Weeks of work.

Possibly months.

Fortunately, the foundation remained intact.

Then he moved toward the axle.

The massive wooden shaft extended through the center of the wheel and connected to the factory’s power transmission system.

Several workers watched curiously as Ernest climbed onto part of the damaged structure.

"Sir, be careful."

"I will."

He crouched beside the axle.

Then placed his hand on it.

The timber showed scratches and impact marks.

But more importantly...

No major cracking.

His eyes narrowed.

Interesting.

Very interesting.

"Hollen."

"What?"

"Come here."

The forge owner approached.

"What is it?"

Ernest pointed toward the shaft.

"The axle survived."

Hollen blinked.

"It did?"

"Look."

Hollen leaned closer.

Actually, Hollen wasn’t an engineer.

But even he could see the difference.

The outer wheel was shattered.

The center wasn’t.

"The barge hit the rim."

Ernest pointed toward the destroyed side.

"Most of the impact energy went here."

Then toward the center.

"The axle absorbed very little of it."

That was fortunate.

Replacing the axle would have been expensive.

Very expensive.

The shaft alone weighed hundreds of kilograms.

Finding suitable timber would take time.

Machining it would take even longer.

Then Ernest stood up and examined the remaining paddles.

Several were destroyed.

Several were missing entirely.

Others remained attached.

He counted quickly.

Thirty-two original paddles.

Eleven destroyed.

Four heavily damaged.

Seventeen reusable.

Actually, that wasn’t terrible.

Far from ideal.

But not terrible.

Then he examined the supporting arms connecting the rim to the axle.

One was broken completely.

Three were cracked.

The rest remained intact.

A worker finally asked the question everyone was thinking.

"Can it be fixed, sir?"

Ernest looked toward the damaged wheel.

Then back at the workers.

"Yes."

The answer came immediately.

Several workers visibly relaxed.

Actually, morale mattered.

Factories ran on machines.

But they also ran on people.

And people panicked when they thought disaster was permanent.’

"Are we still getting paid, sir?" one of the workers asked.

Hollen instantly reacted.

"You know, that’s a very shameless question to ask right now."

The worker immediately looked embarrassed.

"I didn’t mean—"

"The waterwheel was just smashed apart!"

Hollen pointed toward the damaged structure.

"The factory just suffered an accident and the first thing you ask about is your wages?"

Several workers lowered their heads.

The man looked increasingly uncomfortable.

Actually, Hollen wasn’t entirely angry at the worker.

He was angry at the situation.

The broken waterwheel.

The halted production.

The lost profits.

The unexpected repairs.

Unfortunately, the worker happened to be standing closest.

"I-I’m sorry, Master Hollen."

The man quickly bowed.

"I wasn’t trying to be disrespectful."

"I just wanted to know because my wife is expecting our second child next month."

That immediately softened several expressions nearby.

Even Hollen paused.

The worker continued nervously.

"We don’t have much savings."

"If the factory shuts down for a week..."

He didn’t finish the sentence.

He didn’t need to.

Everyone understood.

Most workers lived from paycheck to paycheck.

A week without wages wasn’t a minor inconvenience.

It could mean unpaid rent.

Missed meals.

Debt.

Before Hollen could respond, Ernest stepped between them.

"That’s enough."

The forge owner looked toward him.

"But—"

"No."

Ernest shook his head.

"He’s not being shameless."

The workers immediately fell silent.

Ernest understood the question completely.

When you were wealthy, a temporary shutdown was an inconvenience.

When you were poor, it could be a disaster.

The worker wasn’t asking about profits.

He was asking whether his family would eat.

That was a completely different matter.

Ernest turned toward the worker.

"Yes."

The answer came immediately.

Several workers visibly relaxed.

"Your wages will continue."

The relief on their faces was obvious.

Ernest had already made the decision the moment he inspected the damage.

The factory wasn’t destroyed.

Production wasn’t completely halted.

Most departments were still operational.

And even if they weren’t, laying off workers for an accident that wasn’t their fault would be foolish.

"We’re repairing the wheel."

He pointed toward the damaged structure.

"The foundation survived."

"The axle survived."

"The transmission system survived."

"We’re looking at repairs, not reconstruction."

The workers listened carefully.

"A week."

"Possibly less if the contractors move quickly."

Murmurs spread through the crowd.

A week sounded much better than months.

Then Ernest looked toward Hollen.

"We’ll continue payroll."

The forge owner hesitated for several seconds.

Then sighed.

"Fine."

Actually, after calming down, Hollen knew Ernest was right.

Panic would only make things worse.

The workers had done nothing wrong.

The barge caused the damage.

Not them.

Then Ernest turned toward the barge captain.

The man still looked like he wanted the river to swallow him.

"You said your company carries insurance through the Shipping Guild?"

"Y-yes."

"Good."

Ernest nodded.

"Then we’ll be sending the bill."

The captain swallowed.

"Of course."

"All repair costs. The lost production, replacement materials, and labor. Everything!"

The captain’s face somehow became even paler.

Actually, Ernest wasn’t trying to be cruel.

This was simply business.

The Helmarte Soap Works had suffered measurable damages.

Those damages would be documented.

The company responsible would pay.

That was how commerce worked. After all, this wouldn’t happen if they didn’t crash.