Chapter 878 - 157: A Different Kind of "Business Owner

Seeing the police car make way, the people kneeling felt a moment of joy, but it was tinged with grief: Maybe they’re trying to ignore us?

"Brothers, do you really believe them? These people led you onto the streets, but have they ever cared about your children? Cared if you’ll have enough to eat tomorrow?"

"When all the factories collapse and the jobs are gone, you’ll regret it! And those big companies, they’ll still be able to operate, they’ll make a comeback, but what about me? What about you? Who among us can survive?!"

His voice sounded loud, as though his throat had an amplifier added to it.

As he spoke, he expressed himself passionately and dramatically to the surrounding workers who were watching.

However, he quickly realized that while the police car made way, the large pickup did not—it still moved at walking speed.

Mackinaw’s ragged appearance, glaring headlights, and the smell of black smoke instinctively drew his focus to the vehicle:

"I’m not wrong! I just want to survive! But now what do I have left? The factory is gone, the orders are gone, my workers are gone too!"

The vehicle didn’t care and continued forward, prompting him to grab his collar and roar:

"You’ve done well with strikes, protests, shouting slogans! But do you know what small business owners like us endure to keep this city barely alive? How many nights we stayed awake, how many debts we carried?"

Some workers began to waver. They raised their heads to look at Mackinaw, but as the vehicle kept approaching, they felt reassured and kept watching.

As the vehicle drew nearer, this seemingly unremarkable declaration of war suddenly became interesting to those behind the scenes: executives, EBM’s special task force, civil servants, the advancing police...

Their mindsets were suddenly captivated by the same scene, adopting a spectator’s mindset:

Would this large pickup dare run over him?

If it ran over him, the public opinion would be thrown into chaos.

Yet Mackinaw still did not slow down, getting closer and closer to the people on the ground—

As the distance closed, the light blurred his sense of distance, a strange urgency arose in his heart, forcing him to redirect his gaze to the surrounding workers:

"I’m begging you... stop causing trouble; my factory can’t hold on any longer, and the bank can come and take everything at any time.

You’ve complained day in and day out, but have you thought that our situation is not much better than yours!"

The person on the ground stiffened their neck, with the engine noise of the approaching vehicle getting closer!

He began to despair.

What he said was all true; the production environment for small and medium enterprises in the European Union was already bleak. Relying on EBM was a hard-earned privilege, with many bank loans owed.

Now, because of this wave of worker protests sweeping Europe, factories that were already teetering on the edge of meeting production and quality standards collapsed instantly. Just one failed delivery could lead to overdue loans, a broken capital chain, a loop of selling assets, and eventually being unable to repay debts, leading to bankruptcy...

The result of bankruptcy was either being tormented by frenzied investors or eliminated by calm investors, at best ending up outside the European Barrier, which is almost akin to death.

In his view, workers losing their jobs when the factory goes under can still find new ones, but a business owner’s credit bankruptcy leads invariably to outcomes bordering on death.

Not to mention his wife left him for someone else, and his kids might fall into ruin due to his credit failure...

In the face of a colossal failure, everyone is equally helpless.

"My family... my children... I have nothing left... Why must your hopes be built upon my despair?"

"Hahaha... In the end, I fought my whole life, but I never expected the conclusion to be like this..."

"Run over..."

[Information Transmission:]

[Because you like to be a spineless pushover trapped in between, when no one supports you, you end up with nothing.]

[You now have three paths: one is to continue kneeling here and wait to be publicly run over, another is to find a place that doesn’t block the way and continue kneeling.]

[Or, go back now and get your factory’s situation sorted out; the regulatory committee needs it.]

The guy with the stiff neck on the ground immediately stumbled and rolled aside. When he lifted his head, he discovered that the pickup was still quite far away...

"Shh—"

"Haha! I thought you were made of tougher stuff!"

"Go home and jack off!"

Amid boos, this former executive embarrassingly fled.

Sevens also cursed, giving the middle finger: "Damn, scared the hell out of me..."

Though the people in the vehicle didn’t say anything, they all breathed a sigh of relief.

The situation just now, where that guy got run over, was the worst outcome, but ignoring it would be troublesome too—

Because it was true, and the business owner wasn’t really a villain either...

At least according to the Network Supervision’s background check data, there really wasn’t any cyber psychosis in his factory, and the accident rate was below the European Union’s standard, the work was just a bit harsher, the pay a bit less.

When this guy knelt on the highway, handling it in any way would have confused public opinion with a smoke bomb.

The current outcome is the best: he fled with his tail between his legs, only his pride hurt.

But for someone who opened a company through slogging hard work, losing face is the least of concerns.

"Damn... you’re so badass, coming up with such a tactic..."

Phantom said, glancing at Elliot: the latter also looked visibly relieved.

She instantly concluded that the previous instructions weren’t from Elliot.

But it was different with Alina. She suddenly hugged Elliot’s neck from behind, excitedly exclaiming: "Wow... you’ve got some guts, how did you know he’d back down?"

"I... uh, lucky guess, I just felt we shouldn’t back off."

The enthusiasm of the protest grew higher and higher, and on the horizon of the distant outskirts, a transport aircraft with the Jilafa Company logo on it slowly landed.

Sevens patted Phantom on the shoulder: "To the port district, the supplies have arrived."

...

[Artem: You young folks are really daring, if something happened, this protest of yours might have been finished.]

[Artem: Can you really get the factory up and running?]

[Elliot: The equipment is already being installed.]

"Boss, look, these are our facilities, mainly neuro-metallurgy and semiconductor lithography, the equipment’s condition is quite good... but certainly not as good as yours. As for the workers..."

While replying to Artem’s message, Elliot toured the factory, feeling a refreshing sense of realization:

This company’s boss, even if a small company owner, had an annual turnover of millions of euros, definitely out of his league in the past.

The term "company boss" and the image of the obsequious middle-aged man before him seemed incongruent.

However, Sevens adapted quickly, with a cold face, he said:

"You need to sign a contract with the worker organization under the regulatory committee, the workers will listen to us, that’s not an issue."

Acquiring small and medium enterprises, poaching workers, providing production capacity to the Jilafa Group to fulfill European Union orders, seizing the local commercial order share from EBM, taking away commercial discourse rights...

This is a traditional business war.

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