Warehouse sweeper?
...
The woman completely missed the change in Brian’s expression.
She smiled and greeted the old man, "Hi, Old Bush, long ti no see."
When the two entered, the white old man was moving so cartoon-shaped explosives, resembling an animated shark head torpedo.
Hearing the woman’s voice,
he ignored her at first, continuing to load the items into a box before slowly turning around with a smile, "Yes, it’s been about a year and three months. Very few people co here, it’s just staying, I almost forgot the sll of flowers, soil, and grass, and also.."
The woman rolled her eyes, "Here we go again, don’t be like that, Old Bush, I have sothing very important to do today. This is Sir Brian, a newly promoted Third Level Staff at the base. I need to take Sir Brian to receive the equipnt, identification badge, and entry permissions for Third Level staff. There’s no ti to waste."
"Alright..", Old Bush glanced at Brian and gave him a slight smile before turning to lead the way.
The woman, fearing Brian might grow impatient, explained, "Old Bush is a veteran of the NW organisation, exactly how old I’m not sure. He was here when my mother worked at NW, and although she’s retired, he’s still here at the warehouse. Apart from the founder, he has the highest authority here, so we can only get the safe through him."
"Safe?"
Brian curiously asked, "What, is the equipnt for Third Level staff much different from that of Second Level staff?"
The woman shook her head,
"It still depends on the situation.
Everyone is different.
For example, Third Level staff in the research departnt just get a change in permissions, gaining leadership of certain labs and dividends. Besides status and permissions, they don’t have much change.
Then there are those Third Level staff who have beco Second Rank Life through enhancents, they generally have unstable ntal states and are provided separate living facilities by the organisation. So, it’s just about entering a few permission changes. As for equipnt and the like, it’s not handled by us, but by the Special Service Departnt."
Upon hearing this, Brian nodded.
The Special Service Departnt is a special branch of the NW organisation.
Before, Dr. Octopus Benjamin tried to fra him, and Brian reported him, leading to the capture of Benjamin, but those who were sent and ended up getting killed were staff from the NW’s Special Service Departnt.
They are rarely seen in public view.
During their conversation,
the white old man led them to a massive chanical door.
The old man looked at the woman, "Moli, according to the regulations, only the person being promoted and the guard can enter, you don’t have permission..."
It was then Brian learned the woman’s na was Moli.
Moli nodded with a smile, "I know, Sir Brian’s equipnt is in safe number 378, already verified and recorded with the highest authority of the founder. Sir Brian just needs to go through fingerprint, iris, and voice recognition verification."
Machine, intelligence, and real person, a triple verification process.
Brian actually really liked the operational procedures of the NW base.
Here, artificial intelligence is mainly responsible for interdiary processes, with everyone performing their duties without having to consider too many human factors or encountering minor nuisances; otherwise, artificial intelligence would log it for multi-party review.
Ordinary nuisances don’t have the energy to smooth over a multi-party review.
The managent system involving artificial intelligence is indeed very efficient and reassuring, with everything done according to set rules without much fuss.
Regrettably, starting today, Brian would no longer enjoy this intelligent office automation.
Because from now on, he was among the privileged, one of those who set the organisation’s rules.
Even without artificial intelligence interference, no one would dare to block him!
...
After Moli finished ntioning the safe number, she looked at Brian, "Sir Brian, everything here has been approved. Just follow Old Bush’s instructions; though he’s quite old, he has never made a mistake. I’ll wait outside for you."
Brian nodded, "Alright."
Old Bush was a traditional man.
He waited until Moli left the warehouse before stretching out his exoskeleton-clad right hand, pressing it against the alloy tal wall in front.
The mont his palm contacted the tal wall,
streams of light dispersed from the location of his hand, eventually forming a light ring about two ters high and over a ter wide, much like opening a gate to another dinsion. It was incredibly cool.
"Pretty, isn’t it.."
Old Bush grinned, showing a mouth full of neat white teeth, "This was designed by my grandson, he likes this kind of stuff.."
Hearing this, a thought struck Brian.
He tentatively said, "Cabo?"
Cabo was the friend of Ali, the team’s weapons and vehicle modification expert.
Brian had bought his beastly motorcycle from Cabo for a million US Dollars, and he still enjoyed its brilliant modifications. He simply hadn’t ridden it for a while.
Hearing the na, Old Bush paused.
He nodded, "Yes, Cabo, but that’s just a nickna. His real na is Little Bush, a na I gave him. Since you know Cabo, you must be his friend?"
Brian nodded, "We are riding buddies and friends. He’s a very talented and creative young man, obsessed with his hobbies, loyal to his friends, generous in nature, and loves adventure. If only he wasn’t physically weak, making riding unsafe, he really is great."
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