Building the First Industrial Empire in Another World

Hearing that, Ernest was relieved he passed the test despite how basic it was.

"Okay, let’s now talk about the compensation," Ernest began. "My father earns roughly 8 thousand to 10 thousand riel per month. For someone of my talent, and the potential to fix your messy record, I want to know how much you are willing to pay me."

The moment those words left Ernest’s mouth, Hollen stared at him in disbelief.

Then the owner suddenly laughed.

Not a small chuckle either.

An actual laugh.

"You negotiate too?"

Honestly, Ernest could not blame him for reacting that way.

An eleven-year-old laborer’s son standing inside a forge office while discussing wages and compensation like some merchant clerk sounded ridiculous in this world.

Still, Ernest remained calm.

Because back on Earth, negotiating value was normal.

Especially in engineering and business environments.

Hollen leaned back against his chair while shaking his head slightly.

"By the gods... what did that church teach you?"

"Useful things apparently," Ernest replied.

That actually made Hollen snort again.

The owner crossed his arms afterward while studying him carefully.

"You know most grown men here would just accept whatever I offer?"

Ernest believed that immediately.

People trapped in poverty rarely possessed bargaining power.

Especially laborers.

But Ernest also understood something Hollen clearly noticed already.

He was valuable.

Very valuable.

A literate worker alone already held worth.

A literate worker capable of identifying accounting inconsistencies and inventory discrepancies?

That was even rarer.

Hollen eventually sighed before opening the ledger again.

"Your father earns around nine thousand riels on average," he muttered. "Sometimes slightly more if merchant orders are high."

Hollen tapped the desk lightly afterward.

"You’re still a child."

Fair.

"But..."

The owner glanced toward the chaotic pile of merchant records again.

"...you’re also useful."

"Twelve thousand riels monthly."

Ernest immediately calculated internally.

Roughly thirty percent higher than Victor’s wage. But it’s still too low.

"Come on sir, you can do better than that," Ernest said. "Is that really what you have to offer for someone of my skillsets?"

"Look kid, just because you can read and write and do quick arithmetic doesn’t mean I’ll have to pay you like some noble accountant."

Hollen’s tone became firmer afterward.

"You still have no experience."

That was fair.

From Hollen’s perspective, Ernest was still an eleven-year-old child who suddenly revealed unexpected skills out of nowhere.

Useful?

Yes.

Proven reliable long-term?

Not yet.

Still, Ernest pushed further.

"But I already found multiple inconsistencies in your ledger within minutes," he pointed out. "And based on your reaction earlier, those mistakes could’ve cost you a lot of money."

Hollen clicked his tongue softly.

The fact that he did not deny it immediately already told Ernest enough.

The owner leaned back heavily against his chair afterward while rubbing his forehead again.

"You really don’t know when to stop talking."

"That’s because I know my value."

Hollen could not even fully refute it.

Because Ernest already demonstrated abilities far beyond ordinary workers downstairs.

The owner narrowed his eyes slightly afterward.

"You think reading numbers suddenly makes you irreplaceable?"

"No sir."

Ernest shook his head calmly.

"But I think losing inventory and merchant records costs more than paying me properly."

Silence.

Actually, from a business standpoint, Ernest was correct.

Even simple inventory discrepancies could snowball into operational losses over time.

Especially in metalworking industries where raw material costs mattered heavily.

A forge constantly leaking resources through poor recordkeeping would eventually bleed money.

Hollen clearly understood that too.

The man drummed his fingers lightly against the desk while thinking.

"Okay, how about eighteen thousand riels? That’s twice the salary of your father. Plus, if you prove yourself useful in the coming days, I might consider raising your salary. How about that?"

Ernest stayed quiet for several seconds after hearing the offer.

Eighteen thousand riels.

For an ordinary commoner in this world, that amount was already extremely high.

Twice Victor’s salary.

And Victor practically destroyed his body daily inside the forge to earn his wages.

"Okay, that seems like a fair offer. I can accept that. So do we have a contract that will bind our agreement?" Ernest asked.

The moment he said that, Hollen stared at him again.

"...A contract?"

"Yes sir," he said calmly. "Something written. So both sides clearly understand the terms."

Hollen leaned back against his chair again while studying him carefully.

"You really think like a merchant."

"I do."

Hollen rubbed his chin slightly afterward.

"We normally don’t bother writing contracts for workers."

"That’s because most workers can’t read," Ernest replied.

That immediately shut the owner up for a moment.

Fair point.

Hollen eventually snorted softly.

"By the gods, you really don’t act like Victor’s son."

If only you knew, Ernest thought internally.

"I can’t prepare anything yet so how about we do the signing tomorrow? I’ll draft the contract today and tomorrow you’ll sign and then you can start."

Ernest whistled. "That’s even better."