Gambling Duel

Howard spoke as he walked into the scorched workshop near the steelworks' feed area, raising his voice.

"Each Work Cycle is divided into two shifts, with sixteen hours of work."

"Each Work Cycle includes one hour of maintenance, carried out on a rotating shift system."

He stopped before Coke Oven No. 2 and continued.

"The first stage of steelmaking is coking. Coking coal is blended, crushed, and fed into coke ovens, where dry distillation produces hot coke and crude coke oven gas."

"Coke Oven No. 1 has fifty-three chambers, No. 2 has fifty-three, and No. 3 has thirty-one, for a total of one hundred and thirty-seven. The coke-pushing sequence follows the 5-4 standard."

"The charging time is sixteen minutes, while each coke-pushing operation takes eleven minutes."

The coke-pushing sequence was the order in which the carbonization chambers of a set of coke ovens were charged with coal and discharged of coke.

After conducting research, House Finde's technicians had improved the process and reduced waiting time, cutting the operation time drastically from twenty-six minutes to eleven. At Howard's signal, they demonstrated it.

"Each oven takes fifteen hours to coke, while quenching and screening take thirty-four minutes."

"The total operation time for the entire oven is sixteen hours. Each of the two shifts must complete one cycle, with an output of one hundred and thirty-seven ovens. The standard coke output for each shift per Work Cycle is two thousand and thirteen tons."

The workers all looked toward a foreman who had once served as the foreman of a coking workshop at the neighboring Katowice Dome steelworks.

The bald foreman scratched his head and nodded slightly.

Though time was tight, a well-coordinated shift giving it their all could indeed accomplish it.

Howard then introduced the standards for every process one by one. The workers all realized that although the standards were demanding, they could indeed be met, and they gradually began to believe him.

The blond noble returned to the platform and continued.

"This production cycle is Magneto Steelworks' first cycle after resuming operations. I'll give you time. As long as you finish before the next Nightfall Troupe arrives, you will receive one ration of Corpse-starch."

"The first shift to finish will receive tuna, bread, and water."

"This is what I eat. Eighty percent of the Upper Hive cannot eat food like this."

"Those who do eat it can say from now on that they have eaten better food than the people of the Upper Hive."

The bald foreman was the first to react, slapping his head hard.

"What are we waiting for? Whether it's real or not, we'll find out if we try."

"What was that fish called again?"

Howard said with a smile, "Tuna."

"Anyone who wants tuna, get moving with this old man."

"You, you, and you. You three look the strongest. You're the coal-charging and coke-pushing crew. Move, now."

"Remember: fill it full, level it flat, pack it tight, and spread it evenly."

With four hours remaining before the Nightfall Troupe arrived, the bald shift leader shouted.

"Done!"

He released the cart and hurried toward the platform. Every worker stopped what they were doing and looked up at it.

Howard signaled to the captain of the guards, motioning for the soot-blackened foreman of the coking shift to come up.

"Don't rush. It won't run away. I'll have the cook warm it up for you."

"No need," the foreman said hurriedly. "It tastes just fine cold."

Under the envious gazes of all the workers, he accepted the meal box and water flask.

"Thank you, my lord. Praise be to you, my lord..."

He repeated himself eagerly, clutching his reward tightly as he turned and headed down.

At the same time, workers from the other factories stared wide-eyed. They watched the foreman share the food with his men, and when they swallowed it, their jaws nearly dropped. A thought rose uncontrollably in their minds.

So that noble was telling the truth.

Howard shook his head. Since he had promised, he would not go back on his word.

House Finde's reputation was worth far more than tuna and purified water. He rubbed the bridge of his nose and looked down.

He found that everyone's aura was filled with red enthusiasm and excitement, along with white positivity and drive.

After closing his Spirit Sight, the blond noble stood on the platform and observed the crowd. The exhausted workers moved with strength and speed, as though they had been injected with stimulants.

Was this what my lord meant by mobilizing the workers' enthusiasm?

He nodded in satisfaction and said to the captain of the guards.

"You stay behind and distribute the Corpse-starch. Make sure it is done according to the standards."

Howard then headed toward the newly expanded rest room where Nimrod had once stayed.

After closing the door, the blond noble yawned. Unlike a Sleepless like Bukayo, nearly two Work Cycles without rest had left him exhausted.

Just as Howard achieved a breakthrough in Khanty-Mansi Dome, Nimrod met Thierry Vieira in the shantytown outside Lukpo Hive City.

Thierry was around twenty-three or twenty-four. He was tall and well-proportioned, with smooth lines of muscle and short blond hair framing his sharply defined face.

His eyes were deep and bright as he stared in surprise at the giant holding a heavy halberd before him.

Thierry instinctively gripped the ancestral longsword at his waist and asked in a deep voice.

"You are Nimrod, Tezwork's new king."

"I will be Vostonia's king, and you should submit to me."

Nimrod stepped forward. Thierry felt a crushing pressure, and from the giant's words, he heard an unquestionable confidence, as though whatever he said was truth itself.

"For thousands of years, hundreds and thousands of kings have sought to conquer Vostonia. None have ever succeeded."

"How will you do it? With fewer than three thousand men behind you? You cannot even take Lukpo."

"You are wrong," Nimrod said in a deep voice. "My confidence comes from my strength. I hear you are hailed as Vostonia's greatest swordsman. I would like to see just how capable you are."

Thierry smiled confidently. "Combat does not depend on size."

"If I win, will you, this so-called king of Vostonia, submit to me?"

"Since you are so confident, then the loser shall serve the winner for eternity. How about it?"

Hearing Nimrod's audacious wager, Thierry thought to himself.

I have killed more than a dozen Ogryn. Nimrod is only a little taller. I can definitely defeat him.

If I truly gain control of Tezwork, then I may yet have hope of revenge. I will not be as reckless and arrogant as he is. If I continue guerrilla raids and harassment while building an army, I will certainly be able to defeat Puhach.

If he truly defeats me, then he may be able to kill Puhach, and serving him would not be unacceptable. But that is impossible.

"My king, please allow me to fight him first."

Rawlslev stared intently at Thierry and spoke with blazing battle intent.

Thierry glanced at the dark-skinned, powerfully built man. His skin had been blackened by years of labor and smoke.

Born a worker?

Thierry frowned slightly. At least Nimrod, that giant, looked formidable. This man looked like nothing more than a strong fellow, yet he actually dared challenge him.

"He represents you?"

"No one can represent my king."

Rawlslev shouted as he drew a Las-pistol from his waist.

"This pistol is a finely crafted product of House Boleslaw. If you defeat me, it will be yours."

"It is indeed a fine weapon." Thierry nodded slightly. "Then I will fight you first."

He drew his Power Sword, pressed the control device on its hilt, and activated the Disruption Field.

Rawlslev activated his Chainsword at the same time, and the two walked toward one another.

A cold gleam flashed through Thierry's eyes. He suddenly stepped forward, unleashing the simplest thrust of "Osberch-Vaya," First Form. Like a blazing Fire Snake, it lunged for Rawlslev's chest.

If you calculate this chapter's output, please use the parameters I set. The resulting coke output should be roughly correct. I once investigated steelworks and know that the currently used coke-pushing sequences include 9-2, 5-2, and 2-1, but not 5-4. The coking time is also much shorter than it is today. These figures are reasonable enhancements based on real-world production capacity.