Chapter 382 The Life of Workers
Evelyn's expression was icy. To her, someone like Bodhi, a billionaire, was in a league of his own. Even if Noah worked for Bodhi, he had no business speaking up when Bodhi was addressing the manager. It really got under her skin.
"Noah's with me. If he wants to say something, he can. But you, zip it." Bodhi shot Evelyn a sideways glance.
Evelyn opened her mouth but thought better of it and stayed silent.
"The loan is indeed a billion dollars. I have no idea how much they're putting into eco-friendly gear," the manager said with a grin.
"Fair enough." Noah nodded. It made sense; only insiders would know the cost of that kind of equipment. Folks at Skyray Bank wouldn't have that info.
According to Nathaniel, the Harris family was investing over a hundred billion dollars in eco-friendly equipment but still took out a billion-dollar loan. The numbers seemed off.
'We'll just have to wait for Aurelia's report,' Noah mused, rubbing his chin thoughtfully.
After that, Noah and his crew headed into the park, while Evelyn and the manager went to another factory to snap some photos.
"Noah, you're such a loser!" Evelyn sneered at Noah's retreating figure. "Even if you managed to cozy up to a billionaire like Bodhi, it's probably 'cause you sweet-talked him into trusting you. But I bet it won't be long before Bodhi figures out you're all flash and no substance, and kicks you to the curb!"
At Soar Paper Mill, Noah and his group arrived at the entrance. Inside, there were ten workshops, with machines humming away. Noah owned a small stake in this paper mill.
"Hold up! No entry without a pass!" The security guard immediately blocked Noah and his group.
"I'm Bodhi," Bodhi said to the guard.
"Mr. Cooper!" the guard looked Bodhi up and down, recognized him, and his demeanor changed instantly. He quickly let Noah and the others in.
"Mr. Cooper, what brings you here today?" The guard asked with a sycophantic smile, clearly aware of Bodhi's status.
"Just checking things out. You can carry on," Bodhi replied coolly.
"Sure thing!" The guard returned to his post.
The three of them headed towards the workshops.
"There were rumors about folks working themselves to death here at Soar Paper Mill. Wonder if it's true," Terry adjusted his thick glasses, scanning the area with a grin. "Our Silverlight City Daily tried to send a reporter in for an interview, but they got turned away. Didn't think we'd waltz in so easily today."
"Well, half of this factory belongs to our Mr. Cooper, so of course, we can come and go as we please," Noah joked.
"Noah, the way you put it, those shares aren't really mine. I'm just borrowing the tiger's might," Bodhi said with a helpless shake of his head.
Just then, a worker in a blue and white uniform emerged from the workshop. He looked to be in his twenties, with a slightly pale complexion.
"Hey, can I ask you a few questions?" Terry quickly called out.
Before coming, Noah had already briefed him on the purpose of visiting the industrial park: to interview workers about their real living conditions.
"Questions?" The worker was taken aback, waving his hand dismissively. "I'm swamped with work. No time for questions! If you wanna ask, find someone else!"
He seemed in a hurry.
"Wait, I'll make it worth your while," Terry said quickly, pulling out a wad of cash from his pocket, worried the worker might bolt.
The worker's eyes lit up at the sight of the money. It looked like about a thousand bucks, nearly half a month's pay for him.
"Alright, shoot," the worker agreed.
"Let's head over there and chat," Terry suggested, leading the worker to sit by a flowerbed.
Noah and Bodhi waited quietly nearby.
After a good half-hour, Terry came back.
"How'd it go?" Noah asked.
"The situation at Soar Paper Mill is awful," Terry said, looking grim. "It's like a sweatshop, with brutal exploitation and oppression of the workers."
"Give me the details," Noah's interest was piqued.
"The worker said their schedule is from 7:30 AM to 10 PM, with two hours for meals and breaks, and only three days off a month," Terry explained.
"That means they're working about twelve hours a day!" Bodhi's eyes widened.
"Yeah, and if that were all, it might be bearable. But their wages are super low," Terry continued. "Their pay is a base salary plus piecework, so the more they do, the more they earn. But quality control finds ways to dock their pay. There are also various rules, like deductions for being late, leaving early, or taking personal or sick leave."
"On average, most people only make about ten dollars an hour."
"Ten dollars per hour?" Noah's expression darkened.
"Exactly. It's a heartless factory, openly exploiting and oppressing workers. The worker also told me that this year alone, three workers have literally worked themselves to death," Terry added. "But the Harris family covered it up, so no one knows. If anyone discusses it in the factory, they lose all their pay and get fired."
Hearing Terry's account, Noah was deeply moved. "Did you record what the worker said?"
"I did, and I took a video," Terry nodded. As a journalist, he was deeply opposed to such exploitative practices.
"Let's check out the other factories!"
"Sure!"
By five in the afternoon, the sky was ablaze with the colors of sunset. Noah and his group emerged from the last electroplating factory. Noah's face was expressionless, his mood dark.
That afternoon, they had investigated thirty Harris factories, and the situation was similar across the board.
Twelve-hour workdays, with an average hourly wage of only about ten dollars. Almost every factory had incidents of workers dying from overwork. Two of them didn't even provide basic labor protections and employed child labor.
Terry captured all of this on video. If this news got out, it would definitely spark public outrage and lead to widespread condemnation of the Harris family, significantly impacting them.
Noah's original goal in visiting the industrial park was to investigate the workers' real living conditions to target the Harris family.
But after witnessing everything, he felt a deep sense of despair.
The people at the bottom were working themselves to death just to make ends meet, while some of the elite and wealthy lived in luxury, indulging in excess, all at the expense of the hard work of those at the bottom.
Log in with Google Account
Chapters
Favorite
Settings
