Tian Xingjian was summoned to Jose’s office that very day. When Jose handed him a new contract, Tian’s teary-eyed expression of gratitude made Jose feel like a saint, not only discovering a talented Fatty but also realizing that this Fatty had clearly not been well-fed before coming here. Otherwise, would a contract with a re mid-level chanic salary make him so emotional?
Fatty threw himself even more diligently into his work, seizing this opportunity to truly integrate into the company and the team. Only by doing this could the company beco his shield and support when needed. His training in the Reconnaissance Camp had long taught him that the key to survival behind enemy lines was always being ready with an escape route and cover.
"Who’s the boss of this Holy Knight Company? Why has nobody ever ntioned it?" Fatty chatted with another chanic nad Ax while swiftly dismantling the electronic speed control board of a [Fire] cha.
Ax was a handso young man from the Vibo Clan, a civilian. Fresh out of school and still in his internship, he was working here to prepare for future employnt with a giant cha company. Practical experience is crucial for a chanic. Only through extensive repair work, observation, and hands-on practice can one accurately diagnose faults—rather than opening up the engine casing to check the wiring when the issue is clearly with the leg’s transmission shaft.
Ax watched, mouth agape, as Fatty’s nimble hands deftly manipulated the electronic speed control board with chanical arms, unable to utter a word.
Seeing Ax’s lack of response, Tian Xingjian waved his hand in front of him. Ax ca to his senses and quickly said, "I don’t know either. Ever since I got here, it’s mostly been the managers running things. I’ve never seen the boss. My guess is it’s so aristocrat. With the system in place and competent managers, they just leave it alone."
"Oh..." Fatty replaced the parts on the electronic board, put it back in its place, and reconnected the wiring. He clapped his hands and said, "Done." He stepped on a control pedal, and the steel doors of the repair station opened. The [Fire] cha was conveyed to the completed cha warehouse by an automatic transporter.
"I heard civilian repair shops are being forcibly acquired by the Military Departnt and converted into military repair factories, is that true?" Fatty asked as he tapped on the computer, selecting the next cha.
Ax went silent again. Fatty turned to look and saw him scratching his head in frustration while inspecting a [Totem] cha. With the transporter not yet delivering another cha to him, Fatty pulled a lever, moving his workbench to Ax’s side and asked, "What’s wrong?"
"It slows down without reason when running. I thought it was a loose circuit, a problem I’ve seen before, but I can’t find anything wrong," Ax said with a pained expression.
Fatty checked the diagnostics on the computer and tested the energy radiation index. He chuckled, "Check the connection pipes of the engine’s energy liquefier. It’s probably a loose interface causing an energy supply issue."
Looking back, Fatty saw that a large round repair station at the bottom had been loaded with a cha by the transporter. He moved his workbench back to his station, opened the computer to review the fault description, and started disassembling the sensor with chanical arms. Just as he began, Ax let out an excited shout, "Found it! Boss, you’re amazing!"
"Boss?" The term sounded so old-fashioned to Fatty. He shook his head and continued to focus on repairing the cha’s sensor. After a while, Ax slid his workbench over to Fatty’s side, grinning, "Boss, you’re incredible. No problem seems to stump you. This one’s almost finished, let’s grab so food afterward; my treat."
Fatty reassembled the sensor, stepped on the pedal, looked up at the ti, and said, "That quickly? How many did you fix this morning?" Ax blushed, "Don’t ask, I can’t compare to you." He leaned over to glance at Fatty’s work computer records and gasped, "I haven’t even done a fraction of yours." Seeing Fatty finishing up and tidying the automatic repair arms, Ax pulled Fatty and led him down the maintenance station steps.
The morning work shift was over. At the numbered repair stations in four circular repair areas, chanics stopped their work, chatting and laughing as they headed to the cafeteria. Blended in the crowd, Fatty and Ax walked into the cafeteria.
Ax swiped a card on the computer and smiled, "This al’s on . Order whatever you like." Fatty glanced at the electronic nu and randomly picked two dishes. Continuing their earlier conversation, he asked, "Do you know anything about the conversion to military use?"
Ax gestured for quiet and whispered, "Everyone’s heard bits, but no one knows for sure if it’s true. The situation at the front lines doesn’t seem optimistic. The military’s grip on resources is tightening, causing many small civilian factories to halt production due to a lack of materials—the sa for so cha companies without backing." He sighed, "If they really turn this place into a military repair station, we’re in a pickle."
Fatty asked in surprise, "Why? Doesn’t the Military Departnt pay?" Ax laughed, "Oh, they pay well enough, but fixing military equipnt ans no freedom, and we’d be classified as military personnel."
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