The sun was already high in the sky when Tyler’s convoy rolled into the dusty yard surrounding the border warehouses.
Dust swirled behind their tires as they pulled in, the late morning heat already oppressive.
A handful of forklifts idled under the tin roof of a side garage, while several large trucks sat parked in a staggered line, engines off, their trailers ready to receive the carefully packed cargo.
Tyler stepped out of the SUV and adjusted the sleeves of his black shirt. The air slled of hot tal, oil, and scorched wood.
He scanned the surroundings, eyes narrowing slightly. The warehouse itself was large, built with red brick and corrugated aluminum.
It had no signage, no identifying marks. Just what he wanted—anonymous and forgettable.
Inside, it was cooler but filled with the sll of machinery, wood crates, and industrial grease. Pale white lights buzzed faintly overhead.
Crates had been organized into rows, most labeled with codes only Tyler and David could decipher. Forklifts stood at the ready, and workers were already in position—awaiting instruction.
Tyler nodded in satisfaction. Everything was exactly as planned.
But he didn’t rush.
He motioned for one of the new hires to unlock the primary cargo bay. As the sliding tal door groaned open, Tyler stepped in alone.
David followed but kept a distance, knowing Tyler wanted to inspect the equipnt personally.
These weren’t just crates.
Inside them were the components of his future. Disassembled GPU fabrication machines—precision equipnt with tolerances tighter than a hair’s width.
If any component had been jostled, cracked, or overheated during shipnt, it could delay the entire production schedule by weeks. Worse, it could compromise the final product.
That was unacceptable.
Tyler moved thodically, cracking open case after case. Circuit boards. Coolant coils. Sensor arrays. Vacuum pump cores.
He checked them all with the eyes of soone who’d studied every inch of these machines—not from manuals, but from knowledge absorbed straight from the System itself.
Behind him, David spoke. "Want to delegate this part?"
"No," Tyler replied without looking up. "If we find damage after reassembly, we lose ti, parts, and trust."
He was right.
A single misaligned core unit could fry a motherboard. A fractured pump housing could rupture during operation.
Worse, if his employees noticed he wasn’t thorough now, they’d carry that laxness into the build. Precision was contagious. But so was sloppiness.
After nearly an hour of inspection, Tyler closed the final crate and nodded.
"No damage. Everything’s good. Let’s get started."
David turned and gave the signal. Imdiately, the 34 new hires moved in like clockwork.
Forklifts began shifting crates into position. Toolkits were unpacked. Blueprints unfolded. A rhythm took hold.
Tyler didn’t just supervise. He worked alongside them—tightening bolts, aligning laser arrays, connecting modules. It wasn’t about showing off. It was about setting the tone.
But even as he worked, he could feel their eyes on him.
So of them tried to hide it, glancing when they thought he wasn’t looking. Others stared openly, though respectfully.
From the forklift operators to the drivers still on standby outside, to the technicians fitting cables inside—the looks were all the sa: a strange, respectful curiosity.
Their thoughts weren’t hard to imagine.
A teenager, barely sixteen, guiding the reassembly of so of the most advanced equipnt they’d ever touched—often correcting mistakes they hadn’t even noticed. Who was he?
So assud he must’ve co from an old elite family. Maybe so eccentric heir who’d been tutored by global experts since birth. But even then—what was soone like that doing here, in this obscure, half-forgotten pocket of Africa?
And how the hell did he know so much?
For many of the professionals, it was humbling. They’d spent years mastering their craft. And here was a boy younger than their sons, moving among them like he belonged, and without arrogance or hesitation. Just unmistaken competence.
They kept their questions to themselves and returned to work, but the atmosphere in the warehouse shifted.
By late afternoon, the reassembly was complete. Sweat drenched shirts. Grease marked hands. Palms were sore, backs ached, but nobody complained. The satisfaction of precision completed work held them steady.
Each machine was once again whole.
They were carefully wrapped and loaded onto the waiting trucks with chanical grace. Tyler watched every crate lifted and secured. He didn’t rest. Not yet.
He hadn’t eaten since landing in Gumua the day before, but oddly, he didn’t feel the hunger. His body felt fine—strong even.
But he wasn’t foolish. Enhanced stamina wasn’t infinite. It wasn’t a cheat code. And he wasn’t that bald guy with limitless power.
He could burn out if he wasn’t careful. But rest would only co after the setup, testing, and verification. Not before.
As the final crate was secured and the trucks rumbled to life, Tyler stepped into the lead SUV. David slid into the passenger seat.
The convoy pulled out. Behind them, the newly hired technicians followed in a separate van.
Two hours later, they arrived at the fabrication site.
The security team waved them in without hesitation. The compound buzzed with light. Tall floodlamps bathed the grounds in sterile white as they passed through the restricted outer zone and entered the facility itself.
Inside, the newly completed GPU fabrication plant felt surreal. Concrete floors still slled fresh. Modular labs glead under LED strips.
Tyler led his team through the main corridor and into the assembly wing, where the machines would be installed.
"Clear the staging zones," he ordered. "We’ve got about an hour before the trucks arrive."
They worked quickly, pushing equipnt into position, setting up anti-static barriers, marking floor zones.
By the ti the trucks pulled in, dusk had deepened into night.
Crates were offloaded under bright white light, shadows dancing across the compound walls. Tyler’s team moved like a single unit—tired but wired, moving with purpose.
Hours passed.
At nearly midnight, the final piece of equipnt was tested. Every light blinked green. Every machine passed startup diagnostics. No errors or red flags.
Tyler stood at the center of the fabrication floor, surrounded by machinery and exhausted employees.
Tyler could see the tiredness on his workers’ face and he could only sympathize with them. He understood what it ans to work late into the night as it had been his daily routine in his previous life.
This was especially with the fact that it’s their first day at work. It was a very terrible way to start.
But the difference between his past life and this was that there’s an employer that understands and rewards.
And that was why Tyler decided to give all of them $5,000 bonus. It might not be much but it was enough to motivate them.
One might say that with this, there’s no difference between Tyler and his previous life, but Tyler wasn’t in the mood for argunt.
As for the workers, they were very happy when they heard that they will be given a bonus.
This was also with the fact Tyler promised them that they won’t work so late into the night anymore. It’s not like they mind actually.
For them, as long they receive such bonus every night they work overti. The testing was completed and all equipnts and systems were good to go.
Tyler nodded in satisfaction. After achieving everything he set out to achieve for the day, it was finally ti to rest. He also had to call his ho.
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