"Qin, if you want to buy a cannonball production line, I advise you to give up. Those stubborn old fogeys entered the factory to learn how to make cannonballs when they were around ten years old. It has been more than fifty years since then. They treat the machines and equipment better than their wives. Oh, they don't have wives.”
"I'll only know if I try.”
The two of them strode to the entrance of the factory and looked around. In the relatively clean workshop, four or five old men in their sixties were sitting together and chatting. From time to time, they would pick up their glasses and take a sip. They looked very carefree and happy.
Qin Jun didn't think so. He could feel the loneliness and helplessness of these old men.
He looked up at the well-maintained production line and almost understood why they were sad. It was probably because they were useless.
"Andre, you bastard, you want us to sell the equipment again?”
"Get lost. If your father was still alive, he would break your legs if he knew that you sold the Kors Munitions Factory that he had worked so hard to build.”
"Get lost. We won't sell this cannonball production workshop. Even if we die, we will protect it.”
"..."
Please, I didn't say anything. Do you have to hate me so much?
At this moment, Qin Jun gave him a look, indicating for Andre to translate.
"Hello, I am Qin Jun, the president of the Qin's import and export trading company. You can call me Qin.”
？
Lavvich and the others looked at this tall and handsome Chinese man, and a trace of good impression flashed in their eyes. They had no choice but to have a good impression of the tall and strong boy.
Was he here to buy a factory?
Thinking of this, they were unhappy again. They frowned and said coldly,"The factory is not for sale. Please leave."
“……”
Was there a need to be so direct?
" I do want to buy a factory," Qin Jun said with a smile." If it's possible, would you be willing to work for me so that this cannonball factory with a glorious history can continue?"”
？
Hearing this, Lavvich and the others looked at each other in disbelief. Was there something wrong with this young man's head?
Let the factory continue to produce…
What was the point of producing it?
They were all machines and equipment from the 1950s and 1960s. Who would sell the shells from World War II? Or did he create it for fun?
"You want to restart the production line?" Lavvich asked uncertainly.”
"Yes, and we will continue to increase the production line to mass produce mortar shells. Can you produce qualified mortar shells?”
Bang!
When it came to professionalism, the stubborn Lavvich couldn't stand it anymore. He stood up angrily and emphasized,"" We've been making cannonballs for our entire lives. Cannon shells, grenade shells, high-explosive armor-piercing shells, we can make any kind of cannonball, not to mention mortar shells. Those extremely simple cannonballs, with enough materials, we can make a lot of them in a day.”
Amazing, my grandpa!
What I lack is a talent like you. You're really someone who can find you without any effort.
"Are you willing to continue making cannonballs? If you're willing, move the factory to my place. I can guarantee that you can make as many as you want.”
Silence.
After thinking for a few seconds, Lavvich looked up at Qin Jun with a conflicted expression.""Are you an arms dealer?"
"Yes, many poor countries in the Black Continent don't have the money to buy good weapons now, so I want to produce some cheap weapons from the Second World War and sell them. Not only will I help them, but I will also earn money.”
"Don't feel burdened. Only the fittest survive. This world has never stopped fighting. Every day, people die in gunshots and explosions. Even if I don't sell it, others will.”
It made sense. At least Lavvich had tacitly agreed.
He turned around and looked at his old brothers, then looked at the machinery and equipment in the workshop. If they died in a few years, the equipment that they had cherished for their entire lives would not be able to escape their fate. They would definitely be sold as scrap metal.
Now that there was a chance, why not let it continue to move and do what it should do?
"I promise you!"
"Thank you. I promise I won't disappoint you. Also, if you have any relatives or friends who have worked in the Munitions Factory, you can introduce them to me. After you're hired, your monthly salary will be 2000 meters.”
Qin Jun's goal was very simple. When the union breaks up, the crow G. Lan had millions of workers engaged in military production. Although it had been thirty years, most of those people were old.
However, white people were still energetic in their forties or fifties, and even fifties or sixties. They could continue to work for four or five years.
I'm not afraid of not being able to recruit people, Wu. G. Lan was so poor that he was almost wearing pants. A basic salary of 2000 meters of gold would definitely be able to tempt a large number of people.
"Yes, how much do you want, Mr. Qin?"
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