Chapter 750 - 350: The Picky Welder

"Now, it’s your turn to step up."

"We’re all workers." Frank clapped him on the shoulder. "If we don’t stick together, we’ll just be picked off one by one."

Wood was convinced.

When he arrived at the Union hall that morning, the atmosphere was already restless.

A few young welders were huddled together, arguing. Some thought thirty US dollars was already a high wage and wanted to sign up; others were hesitant, worried about being expelled from the Union.

Wood walked in and slammed his hard hat, covered in burn marks from sparks, onto the table.

"Everyone, sit down."

His voice carried an air of authority.

"They think they can buy your lives for thirty dollars? Are your lungs made of paper? Are your backs made of clay?"

Wood scanned the room, his gaze sweeping over the young, anxious faces.

"I don’t care about this money, and I’m not short on work. But I can’t stand by and watch you all be treated like cheap consumables, used up and thrown away."

"Stick with me, and I’ll help you get what you deserve."

"As long as we stand together, there’s no price we can’t negotiate."

The crowd fell silent.

The restless young men lowered their heads and obediently returned to their seats.

With his reputation alone, Wood had forged these hundred-plus disparate individuals into a single, solid block.

Now, he sat with an unlit, cheap cigar dangling from his lips, holding a pair of playing cards.

He glanced at the profusely sweating HR rep, then at the phone resting on the corner of the table.

The screen showed a text message from Frank sent yesterday:

"Wait a little longer."

Wood flipped his phone face down and went back to his cards.

"Thirty-five US dollars!"

Kevin was getting desperate. He raised the offer, his voice trembling.

That was the highest he was authorized to offer.

"Fellas! Thirty-five dollars an hour! That’s top pay in the industry! What are you all still doing sitting around at home? That’s real money!"

Still, no one moved.

Only the faint FLAP of cards being shuffled broke the silence.

Kevin lowered the megaphone in despair.

He knew this wasn’t about the money. This was the power of organization.

These hundred-plus men were like a single entity. As long as their leader didn’t give the word, Kevin could carpet the ground with cash and no one would bend down to pick it up.

He looked toward Wood, who was sitting at the very front.

It wasn’t that he hadn’t done his homework.

A few days ago, he had secretly contacted a few of the younger welders in the Union who were short on cash, slipping each of them a thousand-US-Dollar advance. He’d been on the verge of breaking their resolve.

But the moment Wood arrived, the situation had completely reversed.

The young men who had taken the money returned it to him, not daring to utter a peep as they sat meekly in their chairs.

Kevin knew the only way to get these men to move was to deal with Wood.

He walked out of the tent and over to Wood’s table.

"Mr. Wood," Kevin began, forcing a smile that was more of a grimace. "Please, give me a straight answer. What will it take to get you to work?"

Wood slowly took the cigar from his mouth, twirling it in his hand.

"My friend, you’ve misunderstood."

Wood spoke, his tone calm, even a little sympathetic.

"It’s not that we don’t want to make money. Who has a grudge against money? Right?"

He glanced at a few of the workers around him, and they chuckled in agreement.

"Then what is it?" Kevin pressed.

"Safety."

Wood sighed, his face a mask of grave concern.

"I heard your work site’s environmental assessment report still hasn’t been approved. You don’t even have a formal road transport permit. Both the state and City Hall are holding things up."

Wood tapped the cigar on the table.

"Think about it. If even the government thinks it’s unsafe, how can we dare to go?"

"We all have families to support. If we get injured on the job, there’s no legal basis for a claim. It’s not worth risking our lives for your thirty-five bucks an hour."

Kevin was stunned.

Of course he knew why the worksite didn’t have its permits.

It was Pittsburgh’s Mayor, Leo Wallace, pulling strings behind the scenes, deliberately delaying all administrative approvals to their maximum deadlines.

But he never expected these workers to use it as leverage against him.

The administrative approvals held up the construction schedule. The schedule put the squeeze on the company. The company had to beg the workers, and the workers were now using the administrative approvals to blackmail the company.

It was a perfect closed loop.

"Then... then what will it take for you to go?" Kevin’s voice was tinged with desperation, on the verge of tears.

He had just received an ultimatum from headquarters: if he didn’t hire anyone today, he needn’t bother coming back.

Wood glanced at his phone.

The screen lit up.

A new message had arrived from Frank:

"It’s time."

Wood slipped the phone into his pocket.

He stood up and stretched, his joints letting out a satisfying CRACK.

"Unless you can offer some substantial safety guarantees."

Wood looked at Kevin and laid out his conditions.

"A base wage of fifty US dollars an hour."

"Full medical insurance, which must be deposited into our designated Mutual Aid Alliance account before work begins."

"Due to the lack of a safety assessment for the site, all high-altitude and high-risk work must come with double the hazard pay."

"And finally, half of this week’s wages, paid up front in cash."

Kevin sucked in a sharp breath.

This wasn’t a hiring negotiation; this was daylight robbery.

By this standard, the labor cost for these hundred men would be more than double the budget.

"I... I have to consult headquarters," Kevin stammered.

"Be my guest." Wood sat back down. "But you’d better be quick. At twelve noon, the boys are heading to the community cafeteria for lunch. And this afternoon, we all have an economics lecture from the professor. We won’t have time for you then."

Kevin ran to a corner and dialed the number for Houston.

A furious roar erupted from the other end of the line, clearly enraged by the outrageous demands.

But after the roaring, there was a long silence.

Five minutes later.

Kevin walked back.

He was dejected, holding a stack of blank contracts fresh from a portable printer.

"Headquarters agreed."

Kevin let out a sigh of relief.

"Fifty an hour, insurance prepaid, double hazard pay. The money will be wired this afternoon."

Wood looked at him and grinned.

He stuck the cheap cigar back in his mouth.

SNAP.

He snapped his fingers.

The open area, which had been filled with a low buzz, instantly fell silent.

Hundreds of pairs of eyes turned to Wood.

"Brothers!"

Wood roared.

"These fat cats have finally shown some sincerity!"

"Grab your gear! Let’s get to work!"

BOOM!

An earth-shattering cheer erupted from the yard.

The workers tossed their cards and turned off their radios.

A hundred strong men marched in a formidable procession toward the bus parked by the road.

Wood walked up to Kevin and patted his slumped shoulders.

"If you’d just had this attitude from the start, we all could’ve saved some time."

Wood laughed heartily and boarded the bus.

...

「Pittsburgh City Hall, Operations Command Center.」

Leo Wallace stood before a massive display screen.

On the screen, data regarding the liquefied natural gas export terminal project was constantly refreshing.

[Expedited Environmental Assessment Fee: Paid.]

[Special Road Transport Permit Fee: Paid.]

[Premium Procurement Contract for Special Steel: Signed.]

[Senior Welder Labor Contract: Activated. Labor costs have risen by 110%.]

Leo watched the flashing numbers, watched as the natural gas giant’s construction costs exceeded their budget by 40% in just a few short days, with the project timeline still facing a huge risk of delay.

He raised his coffee cup, turned, and looked to the southeast.

Leo thought to himself.

’Mr. Sterling.’

’You love making money, don’t you? You answer only to your shareholders, right?’

’I’d like to see, here on the soil of Pennsylvania...’

’...just how much you can bleed.’

’Can you withstand this city, and these millions of workers, sucking you dry?’