Chapter 212: Shipyard

July 28, 2021.

After a light rain, the humidity in the air had risen noticeably.

At the New Luzon shipbuilding complex in the Mishan Islands of Luzon, various ships were still being manufactured in an orderly fashion.

Currently, the New Luzon Shipbuilding Company operated a total of eight shipyards in the Mishan Archipelago Region: six for civilian use and two for military use.

Huang Weida, who had been poached from the Guangzhou Ship Company last year, was recruited as a "New Human" this April after more than a year of hard work and a special recommendation.

His position was also transferred from the Fifth Shipyard on Mindoro Island to the Third Shipyard on Panay Island in the Mishan Islands.

This was all part of the New Luzon Shipbuilding Company’s strategic arrangement.

Mindoro Island housed four shipyards in total, all of which were civilian shipyards with relatively low security clearances: the Fifth, Sixth, Seventh, and Eighth Shipyards.

The shipyards with higher security requirements, including the two military ones, were all concentrated on Panay Island.

The Third Shipyard, where Huang Weida was now, was a large-scale shipyard with a high security level, second only to the military shipyards.

A few months ago, he had been completely bewildered. Huang Weida had been at a loss, especially when the head of the Ship Design Center’s psychological counseling team approached him.

Back when he was working at the Fifth Shipyard, he had actually been quite curious about the role of a psychological counselor.

It wasn’t until after more than half a month of secret meetings that he finally understood why the company had created such a position.

Especially after agreeing to become a New Human, Huang Weida learned the true nature of the Homo Sapiens Company through the database on his bio-chip.

He felt as if he’d boarded a pirate ship he couldn’t leave. The status of a New Human was irreversible, short of suicide.

But with such a promising future ahead of him, why would he choose to kill himself?

As he delved deeper into the Homo Sapiens Company’s internal structure, Huang Weida found himself increasingly eager to integrate into it. After all, humans ultimately crave perfection and love to huddle together for warmth.

Regarding his transfer to the Third Shipyard, his unsuspecting colleagues secretly thought he had pulled some strings. After all, Huang Weida’s skills at the Ship Design Center were mediocre at best; there were plenty of people better than him.

Huang Weida remained noncommittal about this, or rather, he simply let them believe it.

In a way, he really had pulled some strings.

To enter the core departments and upper management of the Homo Sapiens Company, being a New Human was the basic prerequisite. Those who weren’t New Humans couldn’t even dream of it.

Huang Weida had asked his former psychological counselor why the company chose to recruit a designer with average skills like him instead of his far more technically gifted colleagues.

The psychological counselor had replied with a single sentence: "Talent does not equal loyalty. They aren’t even willing to immigrate their families to Luzon. People like that are not suitable for recruitment."

While it was possible to forcibly inject them with bio-chips to compel their obedience, the problem was that this process wasted a significant amount of time.

For individuals with strong psychological resistance, even implanting a bio-chip and using hormonal and pheromonal induction wouldn’t easily complete the personality modification. It could also easily trigger mental health issues like dissociative identity disorder, mania, suicidal ideation, or depression.

As for someone like Wu Xinlan, her body was actually being controlled by the bio-chip’s artificial intelligence, and it was only through Sangjibada Laiyal’s long-term "conditioning" that her personality and psyche were completely twisted.

The time cost for this kind of modification was too high. It also required specialized trainers for one-on-one adjustments, a process that took about half a year.

For trained agents, it might take over a year to completely reshape their psychology and personality, if it was possible at all.

For difficult targets like special agents, the Homo Sapiens Company usually opted for the simple and brutal Soldier solution, rather than the time-consuming and laborious New Human solution.

But the Homo Sapiens Company was no longer in its startup phase. It didn’t have a severe manpower shortage and no longer needed to be so indiscriminate in its recruitment.

The standard practice was to first select and observe a batch of employees with clean backgrounds and the "right" attitude. Then, they would be approached and recruited at an opportune moment. The remaining "natural" employees were placed in non-essential subsidiaries or industries.

People like Huang Weida were screened and selected through this very process.

......

Inside the fully enclosed Dry Dock No. 12 of the Third Shipyard.

Huang Weida was discussing design issues with several other engineers.

This dock was different from an ordinary dry dock; it was more like a massive basin, 50 meters deep, 500 meters long, and 100 meters wide.

Currently, a large number of technicians in work-type exoskeletons and special protective gear were busy at work inside the basin.

The bottom and side walls of the basin were fitted with numerous detachable steel support frames. The steel pillars at the bottom, in particular, could support tens of thousands of tons.

In the central area enclosed by the frames, many technicians were using crane arms, gantry cranes, and temporary suspended steel catwalks to assemble custom-made steel modules piece by piece, starting from the hull.

From its appearance, one could tell it was the framework of a ship.

The group walked along a suspended steel catwalk.

Passing technicians merely gave them a slight nod before returning to their work.

"Back in the day, when I was at the Guangzhou Shipyard docks, we didn’t have conditions this good," Huang Weida said with a smile, shaking his head.

The other engineers and designers who had worked at Huaguo shipyards deeply sympathized.

This was especially true for frontline welders and general laborers, who often developed occupational diseases from long hours of work amidst noise, intense light radiation, and metal dust.

Examples included herniated lumbar discs, physical strain, vision loss, pneumoconiosis, and various respiratory illnesses.

But here in this dry dock, all those problems had been solved.

All frontline employees were equipped with work-type exoskeletons. These suits not only allowed them to easily lift objects weighing hundreds of pounds, but also came with built-in air purification, radiation and glare protection, sound insulation, internal climate control, and communication systems, as well as significant protective capabilities.

With exoskeletons like these, it would be difficult for an employee to get an occupational disease even if they tried.

In any case, after working at the New Luzon Shipyard, many technicians would probably find it very difficult to readjust to the environment of their old shipyards.

Given such a stark contrast, even a doubled salary probably wouldn’t convince the vast majority of technicians to leave.

Once you’ve experienced this level of fully protected safety and comfort, who would want to go back to enduring such harsh working conditions?

Of course, if someone were to offer more than triple the salary, some might be tempted.

The question was, which of the major East Asian shipbuilding companies had the confidence—or the resources—to offer their frontline welders and general laborers a salary three times that of the New Luzon Shipyard?

For a labor-intensive industry like shipbuilding, never mind three times the pay; even doubling it would be extremely difficult.

Having worked in the shipbuilding industry for over seven years, Huang Weida knew the inner workings of East Asia’s major shipbuilders like the back of his hand. Even the ship companies in South Korea and East Japan were more or less on the same level as Huaguo’s in terms of salary.

They made their way down from the upper levels, taking more than half an hour of walking and winding around to finally reach the work area at the bottom.

Looking at the heavy steel module in front of him, Huang Weida patted its thick hull. "The preliminary design has been broken down into modules. I’ve increased the thickness of the bottom module’s plating by a factor of 2.3. It shouldn’t get crushed."

"A factor of 2.3? That’s a bit conservative. I think a factor of 1.8 would have been enough," another designer said, looking conflicted.

But Huang Weida was very cautious. "Better safe than sorry. After all, this is our first time designing such a massive single-hull vessel."