Clatter-
Pfft!
Bare-chested, Song Zhong neatly stacked the consumer goods coming down the assembly line, lifted the whole stack, and placed it in a box. He straightened his aching back and wiped away his sweat.
A skinny man behind him pulled the box over, sealed it with tape, and passed it to the people farther down to load onto a truck.
Then Song Zhong repeated the process, stacking the consumer goods neatly and packing them into boxes.
The star beat directly down on the factory's metal shell. The surface temperature was terrifyingly high, and the furnaces inside were still running at full capacity.
The guards and technicians had miniature temperature regulators in their uniforms, so naturally, they felt no heat.
Xi Yan had given laborers with his own country's citizenship the best possible treatment.
Plenty of breaks and comprehensive safety measures-was there any Marshal in the world who valued high-quality labor more than he did?
By contrast, these low-quality laborers from the United Nations of Earth had nothing but brute strength. They spent their days running with street gangs, had no skills whatsoever, and took time and effort to train. What the hell were they good for? They couldn't even handle technical positions.
Production nationwide was now largely automated, so the only option was to put them to work on the few remaining manual tasks.
If all production nationwide ever became fully automated, these low-quality laborers would have no choice but to generate electricity. (No mercy.)
What, did the United Nations of Earth not have compulsory education?
They were sending out a bunch of useless losers who barely recognized a few words and had developed nothing but stiff muscles from running with gangs? (Angry.)
So Xi Yan didn't particularly value these laborers, who produced little and consumed a lot.
*No