Chapter 305: Chapter 305: Transfer
If they thought back for just a moment, they’d realize... no, there really hadn’t been any.
Come to think of it, it had been years since they’d produced any research breakthroughs.
And now, Elliot Chapman had finally managed to produce a decent result.
Someone from Elder Shaw’s faction chimed in, "Esteemed directors, I have something to say. Changing the director so frequently isn’t good for the institute. We need to be able to focus on our research, not fight over the director’s position."
’Besides, what’s so great about being director anyway? It’s just a few more Crystal Cores a month, a bigger house, and bodyguards when you go out... that’s it.’
Another person added, "That’s right, I agree. Otherwise, everyone’s focus will shift. They’ll only care about becoming the director instead of doing proper research. I propose we classify researchers into different levels."
He continued, "For example, we could have Level 1, Level 2, and Level 3 researchers. They would be promoted based on their research results. Of course, their benefits and laboratory privileges would increase accordingly."
"Laboratory privileges could include better labs, more comprehensive research equipment, and so on. I also suggest the institute expand its recruitment. It’s been too long since we had any new blood."
"This would both incentivize everyone to conduct research and ensure a healthy ecosystem within the institute."
The proposal received a great deal of support—all from Elder Shaw’s faction, of course. Aside from Elder Shaw, the other directors looked grim.
Brian Booker said, "That’s easy for you to say. Expand recruitment, adopt a promotion system... how many resources would that require? Let’s be honest with ourselves, can we even afford it?"
Having listened to the others speak, Elder Shaw had composed himself. He calmly offered a solution, "As long as we have enough Crystal Cores, we can procure everything from Boss Hart."
"..." The moment Lily Hart’s name was mentioned, everyone fell silent.
After all, it really was a good proposal. If more talented and capable people joined the institute, it would benefit all of Cathaya.
Elder Shaw made the final call. "Let’s put it to a vote."
Steven Gibbs made one last-ditch effort, pointing out the proposal’s unreasonableness and the potential negative consequences if it wasn’t implemented properly, but Elder Shaw refuted every point.
He shot a look at the other two. ’Hurry up, say something!’
Brian Booker had been checkmated by the mention of Lily Hart’s name. As for Lena Corbin, Steven Gibbs had already said everything she wanted to say, and repeating it would only get her shot down too.
Elder Shaw scanned the people in the conference room. Most of them were his own supporters, so the vote would undoubtedly be a landslide. The feeling was exhilarating.
In the past, so many of his plans and proposals had been shot down at the voting stage. Now, the tables had finally turned.
Sure enough, of the thirty people present, twenty-two voted in favor and eight opposed.
An absolute rout.
It wasn’t until after the meeting that Brian Booker realized what had happened. ’Weren’t we talking about changing the director? How did we get sidetracked into reforming the entire institute’s system?’
She was vexed. This was the biggest drawback of the recent personnel changes—they could no longer call the shots on so many things!
At this thought, she could only curse Chad Yates. ’It’s all that idiot’s fault!’
And so, the institute’s reforms began.
Recruitment was opened and expanded. Researchers were divided into Level 1, Level 2, and Level 3, with promotions based on research achievements.
Elder Shaw went to the hospital to see Elliot Chapman. He found him sitting up in bed, looking perfectly fine as he reviewed data on bougainvilleas with his left hand. His right hand, from the wrist to the back, was wrapped in gauze.
He knocked on the door. Elliot Chapman looked up from his Light Brain, and upon seeing Elder Shaw, he scrambled to get up.
Elder Shaw was already coming through the door. He held up a hand to stop him. "Don’t get up. You need to rest."
Elliot Chapman sat back down, saying urgently, "Elder Shaw, I’m fine. As long as my rehabilitation goes well, I’ll have full use of my hand again."
’He was afraid the directors would replace him over this...’
The "Plant Die" project was at a critical stage of development, and he wanted to see it through. He desperately wanted to develop this chemical solution and make his own small contribution to humanity.
Elder Shaw sat by the bed and reassured him, "Don’t worry. Focus on your recovery. For now, you can just supervise from the sidelines. Once you’re healed, you can come back to the institute properly."
Those words were a powerful reassurance to Elliot Chapman. He didn’t aspire to be the director, but only as the director would he have more authority.
...
「Inside the lottery shop.」
The shop was unusually crowded today. Listening to the chatter, Lily learned that survivors from a neighboring base had come specifically for her scratch-off tickets.
Lily nodded in complete agreement. ’Having only one lottery shop is truly a great loss for the survivor community,’ she thought. ’I can’t just stay in Central Command forever.’
’I should visit the other bases and bring this good fortune to their survivors.’
At dinner, everyone was talking about their day.
"So many people today," Roman Rowe complained. "My arms feel like they’re about to fall off." He said this while vigorously shoveling food into his mouth, not looking at all like his arms were about to break.
Even the usually quiet Seth spoke up. "Yeah. We were planning on a thousand meals for the morning and a thousand for the afternoon, but it got so crowded we sold two thousand just in the morning..."
After its second upgrade, the fast-food assembly line could now produce two thousand meals a day!
Owen Warren added wearily, "Yeah, it was packed. It was hard to even turn around on the second floor."
The bathhouse had, of course, been upgraded as well. Each section had been expanded to accommodate more customers, and the number of movie theaters had increased to three.
Leo Colby and Stan Sterling, on the other hand, were doing fine. One ran the hotel, which required a minimum one-night stay, and the other tended the small vegetable patch behind it. Neither had the chance to experience the "so many people!" that the others were talking about.
Besides, once the hotel was full, he simply closed for business.
The two merely glanced up briefly before lowering their heads to continue eating. There’s truly no such thing as shared suffering in this world.
Lily Hart took it all in stride. "Why don’t we move to another base and take a few days off?"
Roman Rowe’s immediate impulse was to agree, but then a thought struck him. ’If we leave now, won’t The Mysterious Clan think we’re running away?’
’Although, they haven’t really caused any trouble since that huge storm, have they?’
The thought flashed through his mind. He stopped his frantic shoveling and said quickly, "Yes, absolutely! I’m all for it, one hundred percent!"
Frost Shaw raised a free hand. "Perfect. I’m getting sick of Central Command anyway."
Leo Colby spared a moment to nod. His contract stipulated that the hotel couldn’t be too far from the lottery shop, so wherever Lily Hart went, he had to follow.
No one else had any objections, but Owen Warren asked, "When?"
Lily Hart answered through a mouthful of food, "Tonight!"
The very definition of spontaneous.
After dinner, Lily Hart started thinking about what loose ends she had in Central Command.
First, her plan with Elder Shaw’s group had only completed the first step: removing The Mysterious Clan’s pawns.
’But I’ll be back!’
Second, her feud with The Mysterious Clan was far from over.
’But when does the cycle of vengeance ever end?’ she thought. ’I can’t let this little thing tie me down. I need to get out more.’
’And... I guess that’s it.’
Once the last of the customers had departed, the area grew quiet again.
She took out her Light Brain and sent a message to Elder Shaw and the three other directors. It was a simple, two-line message, basically saying, "I’m leaving tomorrow... a familiar place and you."
’No, no, that’s not right.’
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