The Big Boss For A Countess
Stone Mine
Damascus Prabasampurna walks on hard sandy soil, around which lies an arid mountain of rocks.
Her cowhide leather shoes felt light withstanding a body weight of 85 kg. Large and powerful with a height of almost 2 meters. His sunglasses pointed forward and the shell on his lips let out a thick tobacco-scented smoke.
Under his feet now, there were several people sprawled out.
Their bodies were full of bruises and wounds.
Ivander, one of the Damascus boys who has an unusual ability in things smelling of technology, checked the images of several camera catches he planted among the stones. The camera is strong, hard-wearing, water proof and when the excavator smashes the rock where the camera is planted, it will not be destroyed.
And Damascus came here because Ivander's camera recorded suspicious activity.
Everyone in the mine has memorized the mechanical tools of the inventor. When finding the scattered tools they usually collect it in one drum so that when Ivander returns to the mine area he can put it back in a hidden area.
The problem is that only Ivander knows.
Often the tool is even installed in their transport vehicles.
As it is currently happening, mining areas like this there must be rogue workers who infiltrate a Dump Truck containing limestone material (this stone is used as a raw material for making Portland cement which is useful as an adhesive material on stirring or specs) to be distributed to other companies.
“People often misunderstand me,” said Damascus with his heavy voice. His chin was still raised and his eyes were still staring straight. Not in the direction of the people lying at his feet, but because he was used to such a situation regardless he already knew what the situation was like.
“Think that if people need help I will definitely reject cruelly or be sneaky, or take advantage of the situation,”
Among those helpless people, there was one who was wearing his company uniform, unharmed, kneeling in trembling until it was peeved.
“Especially financial aid, people think I am a thug who often pegs high interest, loan shark or whatever it is,” murmured Damascus again.
Then she thaws, “Hei Baron, indeed I am like that?”
The baron who was checking the condition one by one of the wounded lifted his face and frowned, “Iya Boss?” he's not even sure the answer.
“You're here my salary right? Not forced labor?!” Damascus seemed to be upset with Baron's reply.
“Ya worth it between salary and job,” hiss Baron again.
A smile of Damascus just sprouted, “Good,” the man with gray hair nodded in satisfaction. “Then why are there still employees who steal yes?”
The trembling middle man put his hands together and raised them like he was begging for forgiveness. Because of his trembling, he could not even say anything.
“Not ever explained the consequences of being caught stealing huh?” Artemis knelt down to closely observe the trembling man, her forehead wrinkled in annoyance. “If I'm better starved than caught stealing from Prabasampurna,”
“Artemis, “ sahut Damascus, “Give alimony to his wife's child,” this means an order to finish off.
“Pak!!” the guy was instantly hysterical, “Pak!! Paaaa!! Please forgive me for once Paaaak!! I'm new here sir! I still have a little boy, sir! My backbone!!”
Damascus kicked easily until the Thief Worker's thin body slammed into the rocky ground.
“If you want to ask forgiveness, then pray to God that He will turn my heart. He is Most Merciful, if I lack patience, I am an ordinary human like you,” Damascus is a bit nervous.
“Boss, its allowance fund in case of a work accident about this, still get life insurance,” Artemis shows the screen of his phone. “I don't count the minions. You're not our worker,”
“Yaaa, divided into his henchmen, will he bring his own,” said Damascus while flipping his body and walking in the other direction.
Artemis kneeled back to the mischievous worker, and smiled cunningly. “You want to be made paralyzed for life but still be able to see your wife's child, or you want to die alone but the process is slow?”
Raising his feet on the table of one of his Operations managers, Damascus grazed Cavendish's tobacco cords and placed them in the middle of his shell niche, then set them on fire with a wooden match. A solid fragrance envelops the air with air.
With a frown, the 53-year-old looked at the local community plantation in front of him. It was about 100 meters away from his rock mining area. The area he was currently visiting looked hot and arid, due to the low rainfall.
“Pak,” Operations Manager approached him while sending an email regarding production targets this month to Ivander who was standing next to the Big Boss' chair. “Target production of 18,000 tons/day that you filed last month still feels heavy when measuring the capacity of our Crusher. At the very least, we should add 1 more crusher,”
“If plus one more, the target is not to be 860 tons/hour dong, definitely exceeded my plan target,” grumbled Damascus, “It will be a waste of raw materials, the market demand is not yet that big,”
“But our machine is not capable Sir,”
Sounds of Damascus.
And his phone rang, a short message came in.
From Contessa.
It, ith,
Sir, I'm sorry, but one of the assurances that was in the samsak escaped and is now making a scene in one building. The police are on their way here.
“Wah, his son Adiwilaga messed up again,” murmured Damascus. The first time Contessa sent him a short message, it was annoying.
But for some reason there was a cold wind rustling in the heart of Damascus. “Fin!! Here Fin!” call him.
“What's Boss?” griffin asked as he approached Damascus.
“Chicken you run away, sew a real dong cage,” grumbled Damascus.
“Lah! The cage is so real, the skin of the bull! Most who keep tempted conscience!” griffin was upset.
With his foot, Damascus raised the coffee table in front of him and he kicked it while being thrown into Griffin's face.
BRAKK!!
“That's why everyone comes here , heh?” hiss Damascus in a low tone, “Kan can one keep office. Contessa's a new kid, and she's a normal human being. Not vikings like us,”
“Erghhh!” Griffin was face down on the floor trying to get up while holding his forehead with his hand still bandaged by the Damascus throw yesterday. “Such cement throw-throw stuff use feet,” complained the man.
Meanwhile, due to the throwing of the table, the office room became a little tacky. The Manager was carelessly standing up while managing his breath that felt tight due to the heavy work pressure.
“Hey, Tong...” sis Damascus to the Manager, “You buy one more crusher there, submit a proposal to the head office, please, use goods have C-Corp only later I contact the Gaspar. But your production goods divided into two types, one quality A, one quality B, let the market conditions remain stable,”
“B-b-good Sir..”
“Keep...what good food is there around here?” ask Damascus.
“The Boss stone side dish, hehe,” chuckles Artemis while checking the blood-soaked state of Griffin.
“You searched for rames rice while taking Griffin to the ICU, his blood gushed continuously,” muttered Damascus while re-sipping his fire to Artemis.
“Ceile luka gini please use ICU. Lu was somporal mulu,” muttered Artemis while helping Griffin stand up.