Salt-baked lobster, pan-seared ribeye, apple pie, braised lamb, carrot cream cake, and caviar.
Each person got a lobster, though not large, but when its beautiful thick shell lying in coarse salt was peeled open, it revealed meat packed to the brim, exuding the unique aroma of lobster. The beef, generously peppered, was tender and juicy, while the braised lamb had a rich broth, paired with cheap yet soft white bread, extremely friendly to both the tongue and stomach. The Grade B caviar from the north, while delivering ultimate deliciousness, was also exorbitantly priced, far surpassing the other dishes.
On this midday of a day off, the four indulged in a lavish meal at Zolgen's restaurant, spending eight and a quarter silver coins of Hal's money.
Leaning back contentedly in the restaurant chair after the meal, sipping fermented bread juice, Lanen said, "This afternoon, I've arranged to visit the booked OEM workshop with Mr. Abel Jr. Would you like to come along for fun?"
"Sure, but aren't you supposed to work part-time at the library this afternoon?" Sophia asked, holding her cup with her left hand and gesturing with her right.
"Last night during my shift, I already asked Mrs. Linus for leave. She arranged someone to cover for me this afternoon," Lanen replied, holding his cup, having planned ahead.
Winter had already set in, and even at noon, it was somewhat chilly outside.
Tightening his woolen coat, Lanen greeted from a dozen steps away as he approached the entrance of Abel's Magic Supplies Store.
"Hi, Mr. Abel."
"Haha, Mr. Banneret, you're here? Welcome, welcome," Abel Jr. looked up, saw Lanen, and laughed as he stood up to greet them. "You're really punctual. I thought you'd arrive a bit later." He already knew Lanen would bring friends.
Lanen smiled. "We're students. If we weren't punctual, we'd risk losing our final grades due to frequent tardiness—that would be a tragedy."
"Let's head straight there. I've already spoken to Rudolf and Horn. They're both there, so we can go directly this afternoon."
"Great, let's go. Is your shop taken care of?"
"Don't worry. I've arranged for my wife to mind the store this afternoon. When I return in the evening, she'll go to her daily tea party—I taught her how to use the abacus, so there won't be any issues. She can handle it."
Rudolf Mechanical Processing Factory—this name adhered well to the citizens' habit of naming their businesses after their own surnames.
It was located near a small grove on the outskirts of the city, with a sturdy path leading to a few mottled factory buildings. A fence surrounded the buildings, and sunlight filtered through the trees, casting dappled light on the arched sign at the entrance. The sign bore the somewhat uneven words "Rudolf Mechanical Processing Factory," with two letters in the middle partially worn off.
Despite the name "mechanical" processing factory, its main business was woodworking.
Moreover, Rudolf Mechanical Processing Factory was small in scale, more of a workshop in Lanen's eyes.
"Ah, my dear Rudolf, you look even better than the last time I saw you," the group entered the factory directly, and Abel Jr. greeted Factory Owner Rudolf warmly.
"Welcome to my factory, Abel. Are these your partners? Care to introduce them?" Rudolf seemed somewhat reserved.
"Well, this is Mr. Lanen Banneret, my partner, currently studying at the Atlanta School of Magic. The others are his classmates."
Hearing this, Rudolf seemed a bit wistful. "The School of Magic—that's a place with a bright future. You must study hard."
After shaking hands with Lanen, Rudolf turned to Abel. "Your order is quite large. We're currently producing a quarter of it today, and I've scheduled the rest for five days later. Since the packaging work still depends on your side arranging the boxes and accessories, if you can provide those within ten days, we can likely complete delivery in about half a month."
"Great, no problem," Abel Jr. replied cheerfully.
The contract had already been signed, and Lanen had fulfilled his promise by having Lawyer Edgar represent him fully and act as a notary during the signing of the order contract.
"Well, the workers are producing the first batch. Feel free to look around, just don't disrupt the progress. And be careful."
"Of course, of course."
After instructing the group, Rudolf returned to his work—as the owner of what was essentially a workshop, he also needed to labor himself.
It was the first time any of them had visited such a production site, and they watched the workers' operations with great interest.
The old mana engine chugged along, driving the overhead power shaft, which in turn rotated the equipment via belts. The workers then used these machines to cut, carve, and polish the wood.
Lanen stepped closer to check the nameplate—the manufacturing date was roughly forty years ago.
"Hmm, don't let their age fool you. These old fellows are quite reliable," the operator beside the machine said, noticing Lanen's interest in the nameplate. Lanen smiled back at him.
"Mr. Rudolf, we'll take our leave now. Mr. Abel said he'd like to visit the printing factory with me to check on their progress."
The printing factory was downstream along the river that ran through the city, a considerable distance from the mechanical processing factory.
On the way, Lanen casually asked, "Mr. Abel, about how much do workers in a workshop like that earn?"
"I'm not too familiar with Rudolf's specifics, but those who can operate the machines independently are highly skilled and earn decently by industry standards. Our product is priced at three silver coins, and a worker's monthly income could probably buy three to five abacuses."
"Is that the highest level of worker compensation?" After a pause, Lanen continued, "What about the workers on the assembly lines at Solihall Factory? How much do they earn?"
"Well, that's about as good as it gets. Solihall is worse—I think it's somewhere between five to seven silver coins."
"..."
Lanen fell silent.
He remembered vividly that Solihall Factory operated on a fourteen-hour workday.
The carriage slowly came to a halt as they reached their destination.
Cliff Printing Factory was another business named after its owner's surname, though the current owner's surname was Horn. The previous owner, Old Cliff, had only one daughter, and when he grew old, his son-in-law, Horn Jr., took over the factory.
Cliff Printing Factory was quite busy, as it handled the printing for all large-scale newspapers and magazines in Lorenzan City.
As a result, Cliff Printing Factory was the largest printing facility within hundreds of standard miles.
The packaging boxes ordered from another carton factory would be printed here with the exterior designs, trademarks, and prices, then bundled with the printed instruction manuals and shipped to Rudolf Mechanical Processing Factory, where the workers would pack them and seal them with staples.
Fortunately, Abel Jr. knew his way around and introduced Lanen and Horn to each other, confirmed the supply progress, and then the group toured the facility to broaden their horizons. Though Horn didn't need to work himself, the bustling atmosphere of the printing factory made them reluctant to linger, and they soon bid farewell.
At that moment, Hal suddenly patted Lanen and said, "Isn't that Old Mac?"
Lanen turned his head and indeed saw the former police officer he'd once fought alongside walking out of the printing factory. He called out, "Good afternoon, Mr. Mac! What brings you here?"