Three days later, Hollen learned to fear silence.

Particularly Ernest’s silence.

The young businessman had spent the last three mornings carrying a notebook around the factory while saying almost nothing.

He observed workers.

Measured empty spaces.

Counted windows.

Measured walls.

Made calculations.

Then wrote something down.

Then measured something else.

It was deeply unsettling.

Finally, Hollen found him standing beside the engine house.

The steam engine’s flywheel turned steadily.

Hiss.

Clank.

Hiss.

Clank.

The chimney released a steady stream of smoke into the morning sky.

Ernest looked at the engine with the same expression he wore when planning something expensive.

Very expensive.

Hollen immediately became suspicious.

"What are you doing?"

"Thinking."

"Oh no."

Ernest looked over.

"What?"

"That’s never good."

"It can be good."

"No. Every time you think, I spend money."

Several workers nearby laughed.

The young businessman rolled his eyes.

Then closed his notebook.

"Hollen."

The forge owner sighed.

There it was.

That tone.

The one that always preceded another project.

"What?"

"We need a machine shop."

Silence.

Then Hollen nodded.

"Oh. That’s not too bad."

Ernest blinked.

"You agreed quickly."

"Because we already talked about it."

"Not exactly."

The young businessman opened the notebook.

Then turned it around.

Hollen looked at the sketch.

And immediately regretted everything.

The drawing wasn’t a workshop.

It was practically another factory.

A large brick building.

Multiple work sections.

Storage areas.

A foundry section.

Assembly areas.

Dedicated machine rooms.

Large windows.

A loading yard.

And beside the building...

Another engine house.

The forge owner looked up.

Then at the drawing.

Then back at Ernest.

"No."

"What?"

"No."

Ernest frowned.

"You haven’t even heard the explanation."

"I don’t need one."

"You do."

"I absolutely do not."

The workers burst into laughter.

Unfortunately, they were also curious.

Several of them moved closer.

Ernest sighed.

Then pointed at the sketch.

"The steam engine business won’t work without a machine shop."

Hollen crossed his arms.

"We already have a forge."

"That’s different."

"How?"

The young businessman immediately began listing items.

"We need lathes."

Another finger.

"Drilling machines."

Another.

"Precision boring equipment."

Another.

"Assembly areas."

Another.

"Pattern-making workshops."

He looked up.

"The forge can’t do all of that."

Silence.

That was true.

The forge excelled at producing iron.

Not precision machinery.

The workers understood that too.

One of the machinists spoke.

"We’ve already started running out of space."

Another nodded.

"The steam engine project practically took over half the workshop."

Another pointed toward the production area.

"We’re moving tools around just to make room."

Hollen looked around.

Unfortunately...

They were right.

The steam engine project had transformed the forge.

Workstations had been rearranged.

Temporary sheds had appeared.

Tools occupied every available corner.

At times, the workshop looked like a battlefield.

Then Ernest continued.

"We’re also going to need more workers."

The forge owner groaned.

"How many?"

"At least fifty."

Silence.

Again.

The number sounded ridiculous.

Then again...

So had twenty workers.

And seven hundred factory workers.

And four factories.

At this point, ridiculous numbers were becoming normal.

Ernest continued.

"We’ll need machinists."

"Pattern makers."

"Draftsmen."

"Metalworkers."

"Assembly workers."

"Maintenance crews."

He looked toward the steam engine.

"Because eventually people are going to want one."

That statement silenced everyone.

The workers looked toward the engine house.

The giant flywheel continued turning.

Hiss.

Clank.

Hiss.

Clank.

The machine had become part of the factory’s daily life.

And its impact was obvious.

Production had nearly tripled.

Profits had exploded.

Work had become easier.

Expansion had become possible.

The workers themselves had experienced it.

One of the supervisors suddenly frowned.

"Master Ernest."

"Yes?"

"What happens if another soap company wants one?"

Ernest smiled.

"We sell it."

Silence.

Then another worker asked.

"What if a textile mill wants one?"

"We sell it."

"A mine?"

"We sell it."

"A brewery?"

"We sell it."

The questions continued.

"A sawmill?"

"Yes."

"A foundry?"

"Yes."

"A paper mill?"

"Yes."

Even Hollen slowly understood.

The market was enormous.

The soap factory was merely the first customer.

The kingdom possessed thousands of businesses.

Many used waterwheels.

Many relied on animals.

Many still depended entirely on human labor.

All of them needed power.

And now...

Helmarte possessed a machine capable of providing it.

The implications were staggering.

One machinist suddenly looked worried.

"But can we even build enough of them?"

Silence.

That was an excellent question.

Then Ernest smiled.

"No."

Everyone blinked.

"No?"

"No."

The young businessman pointed toward the factory.

"We can’t."

Then he pointed toward the notebook.

"But the machine shop can."

Understanding slowly spread.

That was the entire point.

The machine shop wasn’t another expensive side project.

It was the factory that built factories.

The place where industrialization itself would be manufactured.

A place capable of producing steam engines.

Machine tools.

Industrial equipment.

Future inventions.

The possibilities seemed endless.

Hollen stared at the sketch.

Then sighed.

He knew he was losing.

Again.

Because the idea made sense.

It made too much sense.

The forge owner looked at Ernest.

"Where?"

The young businessman immediately smiled.

That answer alone told everyone the decision had been made.

"I already found the location."

The workers burst into laughter.

Of course he had.

Of course he already had.

"When?"

"Yesterday."

"Gods."

Ernest flipped another page.

A map appeared.

The proposed site stood beside the Helmarte factory.

Close enough to share resources.

Close enough to use existing infrastructure.

Close enough for workers to move between facilities.

The location was perfect.

Hollen closed his eyes.

"How long have you been planning this?"

"About a month."

The forge owner looked offended.

"A month?"

"I was busy."

Several workers laughed again.

Finally, Hollen looked toward the engine house.

The chimney continued releasing smoke.

The flywheel continued turning.

The factory continued producing mountains of soap.

And somehow...

The idea no longer sounded impossible.

Because one year ago, soap itself had sounded impossible.

Then the waterwheel.

Then the boring machine.

Then the prototype engine.

Then the fifty-horsepower engine.

Every impossible idea had somehow become real.

The forge owner exhaled.

Then pointed at Ernest.

"I have one condition."

"What?"

"You stop calling these things side projects."

The workers immediately laughed.

Ernest looked confused.

"Why?"

"Because every time you say side project, it turns into another company."

This time even Ernest laughed.

Because...

Hollen wasn’t wrong.

Not even a little.

The young businessman extended his hand.

"So?" 𝐟𝕣𝗲𝕖𝕨𝗲𝐛𝗻𝗼𝐯𝗲𝚕.𝗰𝚘𝐦

The forge owner stared at it.

Then sighed.

Again.

Then shook it.

"Fine."

The workers immediately cheered.

Another project.

Another construction.

Another opportunity.

At this point, they wouldn’t have it any other way.

Outside, the steam engine continued its steady rhythm.

Hiss.

Clank.

Hiss.

Clank.

The sound carried through the factory grounds like the heartbeat of something much larger.

Something that had only just begun.

Because soap had made them wealthy.

Steam had made them powerful.

And now...

For the first time...

They were preparing to build the machines that would build the future itself.