Chapter 52: Inspection

Chapter 52: Inspection Meanwhile, Luma sat in the manager’s office. She was a picture of rigid discipline, her back straight, her hands clasped on the smooth wooden desk. Across from her, the manager, a skeleton in a sharp, professional suit, regarded her with a polite but unreadable expression. The room was tidy, organized, and utterly devoid of the usual chaos Luma expected from a busy workshop. A small, neatly arranged set of mana stones sat on the corner of the desk, glowing with a soft, steady light, a stark contrast to the rough-hewn workshops of her own kingdom. "I’d like to meet the owner of this establishment," she said, her voice clipped and formal. The manager smiled, a dry, pleasant sound that seemed to be a practiced gesture. "The owner has a very full schedule, I’m afraid. His time is... precious. But you can voice your concerns with me. I am fully authorized to address any administrative matters." Luma’s cold stare didn’t waver. "Unfortunately, my concerns are not merely administrative. My purpose is to ensure this place is up to safety standards. Knight Commander Urma and the Stonehorn Crossing town council have delegated me with the task of evaluating this establishment, a matter of paramount importance, especially when it is run by undead." She paused, her gaze unwavering. "No offense, but the people aren’t particularly careful with the undead. Their understanding is limited to campfire stories and ancient legends, not as... business owners. As a knight, I must do what it takes for the safety of innocent civilians. I hope you understand that until I can guarantee this place seeks no harm, this facility will be identified as a ’gray zone’ area on our tactical maps. I’m sure you also understand this is just procedure." The manager’s polite smile finally faded, replaced by a more serious expression. He let out a low sigh, a sound Luma found unsettling as it carried a faint, rattling quality. "Of course, Captain Luma. I understand your position completely. If the safety of your people is the primary concern, then it is my duty to ensure you have a complete understanding of our operation. In that case, we shall meet with our superior downstairs. He prefers to manage his affairs from the heart of the company." He stood, his movements fluid and silent, and gestured for Luma to follow him. Luma rose, her hand subtly resting near the hilt of her sword, and followed him out of the office and down the corridor. As they reached the end of the lounge, she saw them: two more skeleton guards, taller and heavier than the first, with imposing armor forged from a strange, blackened metal. Their powerful, unsettling stance felt less like a protective measure and more like a silent, unmoving threat. She felt a knot of tension tighten in her stomach. The manager’s calm demeanor was suddenly at odds with the sheer presence of these guards, and she wondered if she was being led into a trap. The manager seemed to sense her unease. He stopped and turned to her, the empty sockets of his skull seeming to peer into her very soul. "I do have to remind you that if you feel unsafe, you can bring two more companions with you. We are not a place of conflict, but we do respect the protocols of your people." Luma’s hand visibly relaxed from her sword. She nodded and gestured to the two Lupen knights who had been standing guard near the canteen, their battle armor a stark contrast to the skeletal aesthetic of the factory. "Lycan, Fenris," she called, her voice low and firm. "With me." They were a pair of battle-hardened wolves with sleek, gray fur and keen eyes. Lycan, the older of the two, leaned in and muttered, "Are you sure this is a good idea, Captain? The energy from this place... it feels different." "Just be ready," Luma replied, not taking her eyes off the manager. They hurried forward, falling in behind her. The two skeleton guards opened the huge double doors, and the air shifted dramatically. Immediately, Luma was hit with a burst of different smells and sounds. It was a dense aroma of hot metal, cured leather, wood shavings, and something cool and earthy, like freshly disturbed soil mixed with a faint scent of magic. The noise from downstairs was a symphony of industry—not the random clatter of a village forge, but a rhythmic, unified, and purposeful soundscape. There was the heavy clang of hammers, the high-pitched shriek of saws, the soft rasp of files, and the rhythmic hiss of unseen machines and bellows. "Is the industrial area downstairs?" she asked, her voice slightly strained by the sudden sensory overload. "Yes," the manager replied, leading them towards a circular staircase. "It is where our skilled blacksmiths and artisans work hard non-stop to produce the quota needed for our orders. You will find that our workforce is unmatched in its diligence." As they walked down the spiral staircase, Luma could already see the flurry of activity. The skeletons worked with a mesmerizing, unified efficiency. The rhythmic clanging of hammers on anvils was perfectly synchronized, the careful carving of wood was methodical and precise, and the cleaning of tools was a silent, ritualistic motion. It was a sight that completely silenced Luma and the two Lupen knights. The undead, in every story she had ever heard, were nothing more than mindless killing machines, shambling and broken. Yet here they were, a bustling, centralized workforce, each one a cog in a perfectly running machine. Even as Luma and her companions passed, the skeletons didn’t bother to look up, completely engrossed in their tasks. They seemed to have no interest in the living at all. "This is... unsettling," Fenris whispered from behind Luma. "They’re not even looking at us." "We at the Necro Company pride ourselves on our work and craft," the manager explained, his voice easily cutting through the noise. "We have a different station for each specialization." He gestured towards a large, open-plan room as they walked down the hallway of the industrial zone. "That is the metallurgy center. It is where our ores are refined into ingots, and at the same time, we craft them into different pieces of weapons, tools, and even armor. Our blacksmiths are also free to experiment with different types of steel. The product of that experimentation and research is the production of the Damascus steel series, which you are already familiar with." He paused, a subtle pride in his rattling tone. "We can produce a dozen blades of that quality in the time it would take a single master blacksmith to create one." The Lupens following them exchanged glances, their ears twitching in stunned silence. Luma’s own clan village had different blacksmiths, but they worked independently, competing against each other for fame as a "master blacksmith." They were often selfish and greedy, their progress a slow, individual effort. But these undead, they acted with a single purpose in mind, a united and centralized workforce. The implications of such efficiency were staggering. The manager continued, gesturing to another room. "That is the artisan center, where we dry and cure leather for future products as well as carve wooden masterpieces, figurines, furniture, and so on. We can also create intricate magical carvings on these products to give them unique properties." He then gestured to another, larger room. Luma and the Lupens felt a distinct coldness as they passed by the huge stone door, a chill that had nothing to do with the temperature of the room. "That is where we store butchered meat and solidify liquid water into ice for preservation and other commodities which you are already familiar with." Now that he mentions it, Luma and the others had tasted the new food, even now, that same taste still rests on their tongue, the meaty and juicy meat bread they call burger and that flavorful fruit juice which she agreed it tasted more delicious with ice in it. She wondered where do these ideas came from? Even the 5 star chefs wasnt familiar with the method of preservation using ice and using it as commodity in drinks He lowered his voice slightly. "However, there are rooms that are for now classified, but I can assure you these rooms produce future products that are vital to our establishment. We are always innovating." Luma was still stunned, her mind struggling to make sense of everything she was seeing. She just nodded, glad that these undead chose industry over violence. But a deeper, more troubling thought began to take hold. If they were this peaceful, this organized, and this efficient, how strong they would be, if they resorted to violence instead? The town of Tallowshade on the border was already busy with orcs and other demonic threats. They couldn’t afford to fight on two fronts. Luma sighed, hoping it would not come to that. She knew that the fear of the unknown would inevitably turn to hostility if they didn’t tread carefully. The manager stopped and opened the door to one of the rooms. The powerful undead energy Luma had sensed earlier was now almost overwhelming. "Please, come in," he said. Luma, her mind now resolved, braced herself. She was about to meet the owner. Whoever it was, the place itself was dangerous, with its highly trained guards and the manager’s unsettling aura. She could already smell the potent undead energy, so potent that she could almost visualize it oozing erratically from the door. She gestured to her elite guards to stay behind. "Wait here," she commanded. They nodded, their hands on their hilts, ready for a fight that might never come. Luma took a deep breath, and followed the manager inside.